Then he kissed my lips quickly and brought me closer to him. I lay against his chest, with my mind racing and my thoughts confusing me.
“Breeze…” he said after a while.
“Yes?”
“I mean what I said when I told you I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
My heart smiled at his words, and for a second, nothing else in the world mattered.
“You will,” I assured him.
We watched the game and laughed the night away. We even made a couple of bets before we retired to bed just after midnight. I thought that I would be first, but Tim was snoring before I could even turn off the lamp on my side of the bed. I lay there just listening to him breathe. Then, I turned toward the nightstand and grabbed my phone from it.
Unlocking the phone, I went to my messages, clicked on Quentin’s name, and typed “goodbye.” But then I decided against it. This wasn’t some whirlwind love affair; it didn’t require formalities and a big breakup. We didn’t need “closure.” There was no need to reiterate what we had already known whenthis started. So instead, I deleted our message thread, went to his contact, and blocked him.
Putting it back on my nightstand, I closed my eyes and prepared to go to sleep. I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life chasing a new high when I had been high every day of my life since middle school. That was what mattered. But I wasn’t in denial by any stretch of imagination. I knew that I could block Quentin from my phone, from my marriage, and even from between my legs. But in my mind? He had a permanent residence.
Epilogue
Quentin
6months later
“You know my favorite thing about you, big brother?” Quiana asked as she leaned close to my mirror and swiped the edge of her lip to fix her lipstick.
I scoffed, “What Qui?”
“That you just let me drag you around, and you never tell me no,” she giggled, turning to the side to see how her outfit looked.
I chuckled and shook my head. Making a mental note to tell her ass no for the next fifteen things she asked me to do.
“Who would have thought that I would have the homebody getting ready to come to the club?” she laughed, finally facing me, versus looking at me through the mirror.
“Let’s get this shit over with,” I laughed.
“You spend all day listening to people’s problems. Then you come into the house and barricade yourself in work for those same people. That has to be bad for your own mental health. I’m glad that you’re going out tonight. You need to be outside. Get a woman, travel the world, and put that damn notepad down. You’re playing, but you might not look good all your life. You’rebasing your future on Daddy, but you might have Uncle Quincy’s genes. That negro looks like a dachshund. You don’t want to be in your wedding pictures looking like a dachshund,” she warned as we both fell into laughter.
Quiana is my spoiled ass little sister. I appreciated that she stayed out of my personal life for the most part, but the one thing that would never change was the way she argued with me for working too much. Every time she stopped by the office or called late when I was still working, she gave me the same lecture.
“Qui, let’s go before I change my damn mind,” I said as I put on my watch and then walked over to my dresser and sprayed myself with my cologne.
Tomorrow was Quiana’s 28th birthday, and she was having a party at the strip club to bring it in. Qui was outgoing, and her husband was in the league; this was their normal. I wasn’t the party type of nigga, but for Qui, I would show up.
We walked down the stairs and out of my front door to see a black truck waiting at the curb.
“What’s up, bruh?” Her husband Corey, asked as he stepped out and shook my hand. I embraced him as we dapped each other up, and I tapped his back.
“What’s good?” I asked as we parted ways. “I’ll meet you there, Qui,” I yelled over my shoulder as I got into my own truck and then started the engine. I hadn’t even made it to the club, and I was already ready for the night to be over with.
I rode in silence for the most part, trying to mentally prepare myself for the shit that Quiana was about to take me through.
As soon as the GPS said to get off at the next exit, a light on my dashboard flashed. The gas light had come on. I shook my head and exhaled at the realization that maybe I did work too much. There was no way that I should have been that distracted that I didn’t notice I was low on gas the three or four times that I had been in my truck today.
Once I got off the interstate, I saw a gas station in the distance and decided to pull in to fill up. It was late, and the parking lot was empty except for one vehicle that was parked near the front door. I parked at the pump, going inside to pay and grab some mints.
As soon as I turned to go down the aisle with the candy and gum, there was a woman standing there. I can’t lie; she had my attention immediately; her body was fire. But it was once she turned toward me that she confirmed that she was as pretty as she was thick. Her fair skin made her piercing, light brown eyes stand out. I scanned her body: loose curls flowing to her waist, a loose-fitting t-shirt dress, and designer slippers. She was nice. But if I had to put it in simpler terms, she looked like trouble. Like she could fuck your life up.
It was after ten p.m., but she had a bunch of snacks cradled in her arms.
