Sunny's Song (Friends Lovers or Nothing Book 2)
Page 7
Asia’s words were kind but they had little effect on my broken heart. I’m doubtful that anything can take away this pain. I chose Xavier over my career. I wasn’t thrilled about working at BabyPhat when I first came to New York. I was getting major recognition just by being the stylist on record for all of Power Music artists, especially Aiden. I could have shown collections at Fashion Week at least three times by now. My clothes could be in stores right now. I could have a ton more clients but I’ve turned down jobs because I needed to be there for him.
I chose Xavier over my family. No one wanted me to move to New York. I’m a Southern girl from a Southern family. My entire family lives in some part of Georgia. Leaving Atlanta devastated my parents. At least I’m coming home, even if it is with my tail tucked between my legs.
I even chose Xavier over my best friend, the only person who accepts me for the person that I am. Aiden and I fight like an old married couple but one thing is certain, Aiden never lets me forget where I stand with him.
I put him first and he fucked my friend on the pool table that I bought him.
The sound of Asia’s voice caught my attention. I quickly opened my eyes and realized two things. We were in the air and I hadn’t even noticed that we took off and that my friend was trying to hold a conversation with me.
“What did you say?”
“Are you still going to New Orleans after Christmas?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Delilah and I are still going.”
“No Aiden?”
A laugh, a purely genuine laugh, came out of my mouth before I even realized what was happening. I almost didn’t recognize the sound. The idea that Aiden would trek to New Orleans, a city still reeling from Hurricane Katrina, and do something for someone else is hilarious.
“That man is not going to do any manual labor,” I chuckled. “Girl, please! The only calluses Aiden Tyler gets come from plucking guitar strings. He’s the laziest person you’ll ever meet.”
“Well, even if he doesn’t go, I’m glad you’re moving home and going to be surrounded by your real friends. I don’t know how you survived three years with those New York WAGS. Daniela is cool but the rest of them are the worst.”
“WAGS? What the hell is that?”
“Girl, you’re not into the basketball lingo after all this time? That’s what they call us.”
“Us?”
“Wives and girlfriends of professional athletes.”
“Well,” I smiled again. “They must say it behind our backs because ain’t nobody ever called me a WAG to my face. They call you that?”
“They try but I have to politely remind them that I’m a professional athlete that makes more money in a day than they do in a year.”
“Politely?” I scoffed. “You haven’t done anything politely in your entire life, Asia.”
“Yeah,” she smiled. “You’re right about that.”
Honestly, talking to Asia is good for me. She’s the female basketball star- slash- model- slash- entrepreneur version of my best friend. She’s been the best female basketball player in the country for so long that any modicum of modesty that she might have had left the building about three or four years ago.
We first met when she signed with Reebok and I’ve been styling her ever since. I don’t consider all of my clients to be friends but Asia definitely is. There’s something about the spoiled Yankee from Brooklyn that I adore. She’s the most unselfish selfish person that I know, if that makes sense.
In her personal life, Asia will always put self before anyone or anything else. Her husband is learning that. Outside of her marriage and family, she’s completely caring, kind, and unselfish. When she heard about Xavier, not only did she rush to New York to make sure I was okay, she also arrived with her jet, movers, and an offer for me to stay in her husband’s unused condo until I found a place. She’s a great person and I’ll never cross her off my short list of friends.
A little over two hours after we boarded Asia’s G5, we touched down on the tarmac in Atlanta. As soon as I saw my mother’s face in the hangar, I knew something had happened that was going to piss me off. Peaches has very distinct and defined facial expressions. She can read someone quickly without opening her mouth.
After saying goodbye to Asia, I walked over to my mother’s little Honda CR-V and threw my luggage in the trunk. Judging by the deep lines in my mother’s otherwise flawless brown skin, we’d have our “Why did this happen, Lord” cry later.
“What’s going on, Mama?” I asked as soon as I fastened my seat belt. “What happened?”
“Well, Sunny, don’t me mad at me ‘cause I did everything I could.”
“Mama, what is it?”
Peaches kept her eyes focused on I-75 like one blink would cause a ten-car pile-up during the midday rush hour.
“That contractor you hired ain’t worth a dirty nickel,” she spat. “I stopped by your townhouse and he still ain’t got your closets done.”
“I’ve already talked to Matt. He’ll have them and the garage done in a couple of weeks. That’s why I’m staying at Aiden’s.”
“I just don’t understand why you can’t stay at home. You’ve been through it, baby. You need your mama to take care of you.”
I didn’t want to hurt my mother’s feelings but there’s no way I can tell her that the last thing I need is my helicopter parents hovering over me while I try to cope with the shambles my life is now.
“Trust me, being at Aiden’s is going to be easier,” I lied. “I still have to work. You know how you get when I come home at all hours of the night. It’s only for a couple of weeks, Mama. Then the new house will be ready and you can decorate it how you want. I’m home, Mama.” I patted her knee. “I’m home for good.”
“I’m glad you’re home, baby. I just wish it wasn’t like this.”
“You and me both.”
***
Now that I’m home and way too grown to have my mother handling my business, my first stop on my third full day in Atlanta was to my townhouse. Since walking away from my entire life in New York, everything has been moving super fast. Buying a house should take weeks, months even. However, when cash is on the table, the process speeds up tremendously. Even Matt, the contractor, is moving at a fast pace. I can’t be all that upset that the project isn’t done. It’s only been two weeks since I called him. One day, I will have a house with enough bedrooms that I can use one as a massive closet that will hold all of my clothes and shoes so I won’t have to add more closet space.
The best thing about this townhouse is the garage. It’s big enough to serve as a makeshift studio where my clients can come for consultations and fittings.
“Hey Matt,” I greeted the tall, bald, and dark contractor. A tall drink of water for sure. Matt has the body of a gym rat, which makes me wonder if he’s built like that because of his construction work or if he spends his off time at Planet Fitness.
“Mornin’, Sunny,” he greeted me with a head nod then glanced over my shoulder and grinned. “Brought your man out to check on me?”
I turned my head slightly then laughed. Either Matt has no idea who Aiden Tyler is or he’s just pretending that he doesn’t.
“He is not my man,” I told him and made the introductions.
Aiden has been attached to my hip since I showed up at his apartment. Normally, anyone’s constant presence in my personal space is extremely annoying. This time, however, I’m grateful for my best friend’s presence. Aiden doesn’t spend a lot of time trying to get me to talk about my feelings. In fact, he’s been great at keeping my mind occupied with everything but my failed relationship.
Aiden and I allowed Matt to show us the new closets that still need to be painted and the hanging racks and shelves need to be installed. I’m satisfied with the look, especially since sitting in my closet surrounded by fabulous clothes often sparks my imagination, sort of like when Aiden sits in his guitar room staring at all of the beautiful instruments that made him famous.
Other than the nights that I’ve crept into his room when lying in the quiet guest room became unbearable, Aiden and I haven’t been alone together. Delilah’s been around. So have Aunt Kat and my parents.
In the kitchen, I examined the stainless steel appliances and smooth granite countertops. Aiden gingerly hopped onto the island and watched me. He winced a little but I can tell that his physical therapy is really working. A month ago, he wouldn’t have been able to climb on top of a counter. I felt his eyes following me around the kitchen as I played with the stove, oven, and dishwasher as if I’m really going to use them. After a few minutes, he finally spoke.
“So, it’s been three days and Christmas is next week. Are we going to talk about your situation now or are you just going to freak out at Christmas dinner?”
“I’m not going to freak out at Christmas dinner,” I told him. “It’s not going to happen simply because that’s what everyone is expecting. And I’ve talked about my situation enough. It’s done. He cheated, I left; it’s over. Do you want to talk about your situation?”
Aiden laughed. “My situation is simple. Ramey showed her true colors and now we’re separated. She’s just dragging out this divorce because she wants more money.”
“And you’re not hurt or feeling any type of emotional distress over this?” I asked. I’m pretty sure that Aiden caught the doubt in my voice.
“Of course I didn’t want my marriage to end. I’m a little hurt and very pissed. I married her because I love her. But-”
“You love her or loved her?”
“Doesn’t matter now, does it?” he replied. “We’re not together. Do you love Xavier?”
This was a question that I didn’t even need to think about.
“Yes,” I grumbled, angry at myself for still feeling that way. “But it wasn’t enough.”
“Explain,” Aiden replied.
I hopped up on the counter beside him. I’ve been thinking about men, especially famous men for days. They have a track record of infidelity and I know it’s never going to change and there are always exceptions to the rule. Still, Aiden and the rest of them don’t seem to understand the underlying issues or how their “she doesn’t mean anything” excuse means absolutely nothing to the woman on the receiving end of their deceit.
“Let me school you, youngin,” I joked half-heartedly. “Famous men, rich men like you, think that cheating is excusable because of your lifestyle. You rely on the fact that the girl you’re sticking your dick in while you’re on the road doesn’t matter because you love your wife, right? You come home to her, right?”
Aiden agreed just like I knew he would. “That’s right. Those other girls don’t matter if you got a good chick at home. They’re just…you know…there. We’re not on the road having relationships. It’s just sex. We love our wives and girlfriends but y’all act like the love we have for you isn’t enough. Why is that? You know I hate Xavier but you love him and I know he loves you. That’s the only reason I let you be with him. Isn’t the love he had for you enough to warrant a pass this one time that he got caught?”
“No.” The sharpness of the word was scathing and short. I was trying hard not to project my feelings onto Aiden because, even though he isn’t Xavier, he’s representative of what’s wrong with his lifestyle.
“Tell me this, if his love for me is supposed to be enough to give him a pass, why wasn’t my love enough for him to want to be faithful? Why wasn’t knowing that he was my everything enough? Why wasn’t knowing that my love for him was greater than anything I’ve ever felt for anyone enough? Why wasn’t the hundred percent of me that I was putting into our relationship enough? Tell me why him loving me is supposed to be enough but me loving him isn’t.”
Aiden was abnormally silent. I couldn’t tell if what I said was actually sinking in or if he was just trying to think of some sort of cheater’s justification. It didn’t matter because I wasn’t nearly finished.
“Y’all always wanna say that it’s just sex with no emotional connection but there’s no such thing. Anytime a groupie posts a picture of you and her so your wife can see, she has an emotional connection. Any time she gets in her feelings because you don’t answer her call, she has an emotion connection. When you’re with that girl who doesn’t mean anything…when you’re with her, are you completely silent when you’re fucking? You don’t tell her how good she feels? You don’t call her baby? You don’t tell her how much you enjoy fucking her? Are you a mute?” I continued without expecting an answer. “You said those things to me and I know for a fact that you were screwing at least three other girls around that time. You said those same things to your wife, right? Your wife, Aiden! The woman that you were emotionally attached to, right?”
Aiden’s affirmative answer was barely audible.
“That’s what I mean. Anytime you’re carnally intimate with a woman, there’s an emotional attachment. That is how we were created. It’s imbedded in our DNA. However, that’s an emotional connection that you’ve committed to only sharing with your wife. I’m pretty damn sure that if Xavier had walked in on me fucking some random guy because he was, what did you say…he was just there, his reaction would have been worse than mine. What would you have done if Ramey just started screwing random guys on photo shoots because he had a nice body and a big dick?”
“I get it,” Aiden snapped. “You made your point. My question is, did you tell your fiancé this?”
“Why should I have to? He’s a grown ass educated man. He knows right from wrong.”
“I’m just wondering if you communicate with him as well as you do me because I totally get what you’re saying. And if you said any of this to him, he wouldn’t have risked his life by calling my phone looking for you.”
Aiden slid his arm around my shoulders and pulled me against him. We’ve been in this same position so many times that I can’t even count. The weight of his arms felt comforting and supportive. He was holding me together and for some reason, I was confident that my friend would not allow me to break.
Chapter 8: Through the Motions
“Sunny,” Mama sighed into my ear. “Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t know, baby. Seems like going to New Orleans would be too depressing for you. I don’t know about this.”
I thought about the remaining suitcases that I still had to fill with clothes and toiletries to last a month in the Big Easy. Whether Peaches likes it or not, I’m doing this. I’m going to New Orleans for a month and help however I can. I have to do this. I have to feel useful and needed again. I’m tired of sitting in this apartment making poor attempts at not wallowing in my pain.
“Mama, I know how you feel. You made that clear at Christmas. But I’m going to be fine.”
She sighed again, a sound that I’m getting really fed up at hearing.
“You’ve just been so sad already, Sunny. I wish Aiden was going with you. He’s been the only person who can get you to smile or do anything besides work.”
“By do anything, do you mean going to Rabbit’s because what exactly have I done since I’ve been home?”
“You know what I mean, Sunny.”
“Aiden has physical therapy, Mom. He can’t come.”
“Don’t call me Mom like some Yankee. You’re stopping by before you leave tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, Sunny. See you tomorrow. Get some rest.”
I sat my phone on the nightstand and relaxed in the middle of Aiden’s big bed, trying not to think about the email Daniela sent a few minutes ago about Xavier.
I do miss my friend but it’s clear that she’s not on my side. I understand why, to some extent. Daniela’s loyalty is to her husband and to the team. Without them, she’d have nothing. If Xavi
er is playing badly because he’s heartbroken, she feels it’s her duty to talk to me about it. She doesn’t understand that I could not care less if Xavier rides the bench for the rest of his career.
He loves you so much, Sunny. He really misses you. He needs you. Will you please just talk to him? I’m just asking for one conversation. Can’t you do that for me?
I replied with a curt “No” and left it at that. I’m already using every ounce of willower that I have to keep from unblocking Xavier’s number and calling him back. I don’t need Daniela’s incessant urging pushing me off the wagon.
Never in my life did I ever think I’d fully understand how a woman could go back to a man that broke her heart. I can damn sure sympathize now. If I allowed myself to speak with Xavier feeling the way I feel, his declaration of love and promise to never do it again could have me running back into his arms just to feel whole and loved again. To get back to that place where I was at peace and happy, it would be easy to ignore what he did for a minute. Eventually, I’d remember his betrayal and that’s why I can’t talk to him.
As I stared up at the ceiling, a fresh yet familiar set of tears filled my eyes. God, I’m so sick of crying…so sick of being sad. It’s been a month and a half! I should be moving on by now! When will I get over him?
“You okay?”
Aiden stood in the doorway of his room staring at me. I swiped at my wet eyes then wiped my face with the hem of my t-shirt. I’m sure Aiden is as sick of seeing me cry as I am of crying.
“I’m fine,” I answered.
“Are you hungry? Want to go get something to eat?”
“I ate already.”
Aiden looked at his watch and frowned. I knew what he was frowning about and did not care. Sure, my last meal was two slices of toast a few hours ago. I don’t have much of an appetite.
“Come on,” he urged. “You’re leaving tomorrow. Can I at least take you to dinner? I won’t be seeing you again for at least a month.”