by Untamed
All we could do was sit on the sofa, all three of us, and hold each other as we cried. But if both Misha and Kwanzie had it, that still left the question, which one gave it to Tony? Sadly, that was the only question in mind, because at this point, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Tony was HIV positive.
Chapter Eleven
Charice
When it rained, it poured. Ryan had been battling with me as much as he could over my relationship with Lincoln, and it was wearing me down. I caught flak from the boys, who wanted me to be with their daddy, and Ryan’s parents, who begged me to give him a chance. I understood their position, but I loved Lincoln. I couldn’t change that. Lincoln and I continued to get into little spats over the phone because he was stressed over the strain of his professional relationship with Ryan and the team. Having gotten into more physical confrontations with Ryan, it had begun to be an unpleasant situation. To add to the stress, we hadn’t seen each other since the weekend Ryan found out about us, and I couldn’t wait to see him. We needed this time to build our relationship and deal with this hurdle in our lives. It seemed like we were losing our bond with each other because of all the bullshit, but I refused to give up on him. Yet ever since I stepped foot in the house, it had been filled with petty arguments and awkward silence. This was not the trip I’d hoped for.
“I’ll have dinner ready for you when you get home,” I told Lincoln before he left to go work out and condition.
“I’m on a strict diet—”
“You don’t trust my cooking?” I asked, interrupting him.
He shook his head. “It ain’t that. You shouldn’t be cooking. You’re visiting.”
Put off by his visitor remark, I frowned. “I’m your fiancée and a nutritionist, and I resent that comment about me being a visitor. This is my home and kitchen too.”
Irritated, he groaned. “You know what I mean, Charice. Damn.”
“No, I don’t. Make it clear for me,” I said, folding my arms.
“Whatever. I’m out.”
“Why are you taking out your frustrations on me?”
“I’m not,” he said in an attitudinal way.
“Whatever, man.” I threw my hands up. “You know what? Grab something. I’m going to take a damn nap.”
I made my way upstairs and lay across the bed. Lincoln and I exchanged no further words before he left. Hearing the door close without an attempt to make things right between us bothered me. We’d had another argument, and I didn’t even understand why. Where our relationship had been so smooth and welcoming, it now had somehow become a drain.
Despite my attempt to rest and relax, I couldn’t sleep, so I got up, cleaned, and then watched television as I lay in our bed to clear my mind, but I still couldn’t help but worry if we could weather this storm. My attitude concerning others’ opinions about our relationship was that everyone would get over it. Lincoln, however, took it to heart. That scared me because I felt as if he thought that he bit off more than he could chew, but our love was so worth it.
Somewhere along the way, I’d fallen asleep on the bed, and when I woke up, I saw that it was ten o’clock at night. Lincoln wasn’t home. He had left at three o’clock this afternoon. Instantly, I was worried. I grabbed my cell phone, and the only missed calls I had were from my mom and LaMeka. Listening to their messages, I knew it had nothing to do with Lincoln, so I called him. The call went straight to his voicemail, so I tried again with the same result. I called the office of his nonprofit and of course got no answer. Then I called a couple of his teammates, who hadn’t seen him since about six, so I made the call that I dreaded.
“Hey, Ricey, what’s good?” Ryan asked me.
In a panic, I asked, “Ryan, have you seen Lincoln?”
“Gee, thanks. I’m doing all right, and you?” he replied sarcastically.
“Gawd damn it, Ryan! This is not the time to be fucking playing. He should’ve been home hours ago. I can’t reach him by cell, and no one has seen him since earlier today,” I said frantically.
“With any luck, he jumped off a bridge and killed himself.”
A gasp escaped me. Even though he was pissed with Lincoln, I never would’ve suspected something so vile to spew from his mouth. “How dare you? You may be angry, but wishing death on someone is extreme, even for you.”
There was a brief pause before Ryan spoke again. “Ricey, I’d kill for you, so why wouldn’t I wish death on him if it meant I could have you?” Ryan asked nonchalantly.
Whoa. Ryan had done some cruel things in his lifetime. Despicable things. Unforgivable things. But even with all that, those words were a new all-time low. “Okay, now you’re scaring me. Where’s Lincoln, and what have you done to him?”
His laugh came out sinisterly. “Pipe down. I ain’t done shit to that nigga. But if he’s lost, I damn sure ain’t trying to find him. If you’re worried, call the police. They get paid to search for muthafuckas. I don’t.”
“He was your best friend. How could you?”
“He stopped being my friend the moment he pushed up on you, so forgive me if I don’t have no sympathy or empathy for him. I don’t know where he is, but I’ll be more than happy to keep you company while you wait,” he said slyly.
Unbelievable. My brow furrowed at the audacity of his actions. “You are so wrong. I have to go so I can find my man.”
Ryan chuckled. “Fine. Suit yourself.”
Rather than continue this back-and-forth, I hung up on him and kept calling Lincoln. I didn’t know if I should be pissed or worried, so I stayed in limbo between the two. By midnight, I was fully clothed and about to head out of the door to the police station when the front door opened and Lincoln walked inside.
The sight of him caused me to lash out before I knew it. “Where the hell have you been?”
His eyes were red. He seemed like he’d been drinking. “Man, I just got home. Can you please stop fussing? Is that any way to greet your man?” he said.
This man did not just walk his ass up in this house hours late and ask me if this was any way to treat my man. My hands flew on my hips, and my attitude was on go. “And is this any way to treat your woman? You’ve been gone all day. You’re not answering your phone. You had me worried sick! Do you see me right now? I’m trembling and scared. I was on my way out of the house to the police station, and all you can say is ‘stop fussing’? You must be out of your mind!”
Lincoln put his gym bag down and sauntered past me into the kitchen. “It’s been a long day, and I just want to be left alone.”
Thinking back to my conversation with Ryan, concern overtook me. “What happened?”
“Nothing. I went to work out and condition.”
“From three in the afternoon until midnight?” I hollered. “And you have liquor on your breath, just so you know. I mean, unless you always exercise drunk.” I followed him into the kitchen.
He drank a bottle of water and threw it in the trash. “I’m about to shower and go to bed. You coming?”
“Hell no! And you’re not going anywhere until you give me an answer,” I said, gripping him by his forearm.
“I got drunk and got some ass,” he said sarcastically.
Without warning, I slapped his ass. “You bastard!”
“That’s what you want to hear, right? You want to hear that I was out being trifling to give you a reason to leave. Ain’t that right?” Lincoln said harshly.
Something was not right. I was in a state of shock at his behavior, but I could sense his pain. “No! I don’t want to leave, but I do want to know what’s wrong,” I pleaded. “Baby, this isn’t you. Talk to me.”
“You don’t know me, Charice.”
“Yes, I do. You’re the man I love. How could I not know you?” I protested.
“Let’s just go—”
With a huff, I belted, “I love you. Please be straight with me. That’s all I ask.”
His face was a mix of emotions as he tried to rub out the creases of worry in his f
orehead. “I don’t know how to say this.”
“Say what?” I asked nervously.
He groaned out his frustrations and placed both of his hands atop his head. With his eyes closed, he gritted his teeth and mumbled, “I’ve done some deep thinking, and I realized that this isn’t what I really want.”
The temperature in my body played tricks on me, because a coolness ran through my veins, causing my hands and feet to feel clammy, but my skin felt as if it were on fire. My system seemed just as confused as my heart and my mind. What the fuck was he saying? “What are you talking about?” I asked nervously. “Lincoln, you’re scaring me.”
Lincoln lifted his head, and the most sorrowful expression was trapped in his eyes. The pain that emanated from him was enough to level the entire city. His shoulders deflated as he began to explain. “I’m sorry. I am. I wish I had never seen you at the Westin. I never should’ve let this go this far. Look, what I’m saying is . . . I don’t want this anymore.”
Tears fell from my eyes. “I can’t . . . What are you—”
“We need to end this,” Lincoln boomed, cutting me off midsentence.
Panic set in as I began to ramble. “Okay, umm, so you don’t want to get married right now. I get that. Let’s just hold off on that. We’ll work on us—”
“Charice,” he yelled, throwing his hands up. “I don’t want to be married. I don’t want to be in a relationship. I don’t want to be with you!”
The air immediately left my lungs, and my chest heaved up and down as his words hit me like bricks in the face. I would’ve preferred being shot to death than what he was telling me. There was no way this could be happening. No way. I loved him, and he loved me. Why would he do this to us? Why?
“No, no, no. You don’t mean that. You can’t,” I cried. “Please.” I rushed to him, grabbed his waist, and hugged him. “I love you. Don’t do this. Don’t!”
“Go home.” He pulled away from my embrace. “Go back to Atlanta, and leave me alone.”
“Lincoln!”
“Go!”
Tears rushed down my face as I stared up at him through pleading eyes. “You promised you’d never hurt me. I gave you all of me. I chose you over Ryan.”
His nose flared as he spat, “Well, you should’ve chosen Ryan. I’m not built for this. I feel smothered and . . . please, let’s just end this amicably.”
The sting I felt couldn’t have felt stronger if he’d actually laid hands on me. Not only had he just shredded my heart into pieces, but he also had the nerve, the unmitigated gall, to want to end things on a friendly note. We weren’t friends. We were lovers. Then out of left field, with no rhyme or reason, we suddenly weren’t lovers anymore?
My emotions welled up inside of me, causing me to combust. “Amicably!” I ran up to him and began continuously punching him in the chest. “You promised me,” I screamed. “On Paradise Island, you promised me you’d never give me a reason to run. You told me this was what you wanted. You said you’d stand by me. What about that?”
He grabbed my hands to stop the pounding blows. As he held my hands in his, he drew in his bottom lip and stared intently into my eyes. “I know what I said, and at the time, I thought that’s what I really wanted. I’m sorry, Charice. I am. Isn’t it better that you know now rather than after we get married and tie ourselves down together?”
The foolishness just didn’t stop. What kind of fuckery was he on? “Tie ourselves down? I’m already tied to you. What the hell? Better to know now? It would’ve been better if you told me this shit six months ago or, hell, even a month ago! If this isn’t really what you wanted, why didn’t you let me leave when I started to after the benefit dinner?”
He flailed his hand and fanned it to cease my questions. “Listen, I know it’s hard, but this is for the best. I didn’t say anything, but I was hesitant on Paradise Island to ask you to marry me for a reason. I was second-guessing this whole thing. I thought at the time it was what I wanted, and I realize now that it was the wrong decision. I wanted to wait until the morning to tell you all of this, but you wanted to know now, and I felt I owed you enough to tell you. I’m so sorry,” Lincoln apologized. “I’ll help you make your flight arrangements in the morning,” he said, and without another word or even a bit of comfort, he began to walk away.
As he walked away, I stood in place, dazed for a moment. That’s when the reality of this situation really hit me. This moment was really real. He left me, and there was nothing I could say that could change his mind. I loved him. I couldn’t lose him. I just couldn’t. Desperation caused me to run and jump in front of him. “Please, please don’t leave me. I’ll do anything. Please,” I begged him as a fury of tears streamed down my face.
“Please stop,” he said quietly, trying to maneuver past me.
Overcome with fear, I fell to my knees and grabbed his legs. “No, wait, please stop, baby. No. I love you. You can’t leave me. Please don’t leave me!”
“Charice, get up,” Lincoln begged.
I shook my head fiercely. Pure and utter desperation had settled in, and I was terrified of losing Lincoln. At this point, I had lost myself. Without Lincoln, I was nothing. Something came over me, and I pulled at his shorts.
“What are you doing?” he asked, confused.
“Making you remember how good we are. Is this what you want me to do?” I asked as I took his manhood in my hands and started massaging it. Before he could protest, I placed his wood in my warm mouth and worked it like I never had before.
“Mmm,” he moaned as his head fell backward. “You have to . . . oh, Lord . . . you have to stop.” He gripped me by my shoulders and forced me back off of him. Glaring down at me, he roared harshly, “Stop this. Stop it right now.”
My heart split in two as I looked into Lincoln’s eyes. He was serious. Suddenly, I was no longer the grown and mature Charice I had worked so hard to become. I was automatically 19 years old again when Ryan had walked out on me for good. I was that same scared, timid, desperate, naive, confused, and worthless teenage girl who’d begged a man to love me the same way I loved him. I slid away from him as he fixed his shorts, and I curled up in a ball with my back against the kitchen island. I buried my face in my lap and cried from the aching pain. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t do anything but wish someone could put the shattered pieces of my heart back together again.
Suddenly, I thought of how good I had been to Lincoln, and all the things I’d done for him flooded my memory. It was I who’d started Lincoln’s Little Ones for him: a foundation that taught inner-city youths who were below grade level how to read. It was I who gave him the idea to extend Camp Lincoln into a mentoring program. Camp Lincoln was geared toward boys between the ages of 6 and 16 who excelled in football. They were shown proper techniques and went through training and conditioning so they could continue to excel in the sport, and I introduced learning other social skills such as chivalry and etiquette, and I was in talks to start the same type of program called Lincoln’s Little Princesses.
I helped him choose the best endorsement deals to seek and accept. It was I who encouraged him and stood by him during the season. I was the one who paid his bills and kept his money in line by overseeing the protection of his investments and retirement plans. I was the one who gave him nutritional tips and medical advice when he refused to consult his doctor or the team physicians. I was the other daughter his mom and dad never had and a sister to Leo and Krista.
I even got along well with his baby mama, Lauren. His daughter, London, loved me, and it was because of me that Lauren and he had actually established a friendship for the sake of London. I put plenty of work into this so-called relationship, and now he was tossing me like I was yesterday’s trash?
Suddenly, I was no longer hurt or upset. I was mad as hell! I jumped up from the floor and dusted myself off. If Lincoln didn’t want me, fuck it. I didn’t want his trifling ass either. From now on, it was all about me and my children. I dried my eyes
and began to walk away to gather my things.
“Charice, I’m sorry that it had to be this way. I—”
I spun back around and put my hand up. “It is what it is. Excuse me.” With that, I headed out of the kitchen and back up the stairs. My first stop was his bedroom. I pulled out my luggage and began to pack, not realizing he’d followed me.
“You don’t have to leave now. I told you in the morning we—”
Continuing to stuff my bags, I bellowed, “I’m a grown-ass woman, Lincoln. I don’t need we to do anything for me. I got me. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m not letting you go out after midnight—”
“That’s not your choice. You made your choice when you chose not to be with me. I’m choosing not to be here with you. I don’t need you.” I went to the bathroom to collect my toiletries.
Lincoln followed me. “I didn’t want us to end like this. I don’t want you to storm out of here like this.”
The side-eye glare I tossed at him was searing. “Save it. You made it perfectly clear that you don’t want this relationship, so stop trying to smooth shit over now. It’s obvious to me that I’m not wanted here, and I refuse to stay anywhere I’m not wanted. I played that role with Ryan for too many years. I’m not doing it again for anybody else. I don’t want your sympathy. I don’t need your empathy, and I damn sure ain’t feeling your feeble attempts at friendship. As far as I’m concerned, you never met me, and I never met you,” I spewed as I shoved the rest of my things into my suitcase.
I zipped up the two pieces of luggage and began to roll them out of the bedroom.
“Here, let me help,” he said, attempting to grab one.
“I got it!” I snatched it away. “Don’t touch my shit!”
Once downstairs, I grabbed my purse and my cell. I pressed my home button and connected to Siri. “Courtyard Marriott, Dallas, Texas,” I said into the phone. Siri supplied the nearest locations, and I pressed the first one to dial the hotel.