Where Did the Love Go

by Elbie Dee

  Once Neakah’s Audi left from the hospital lot, I waited until she hit the street before deciding to follow. With my gear already in drive, I took my foot from the pedal and creeped until I was a car behind them. Although they weren’t aware of my vehicle, I still wanted to be safer than sorry.

  A few minutes later and I missed them from Neakah swerving quickly into the left turning lane. Instantly, I felt like one of the two spotted me. Even with my accusations, I whipped my car around at the next light.

  Being a few minutes behind them, I increased my speed down the strip. Luckily, I caught up with them in time to notice them pulling up to, what looked to be, Nordstrom. Once I pulled in the lot, I parked at a distance where I was able to watch their every move, but they wouldn’t think to look in the direction I was in.

  Indeed, after the pair hopped out of the freshly washed Audi, they walked into the clothing store together. I wasn’t planning on going in. Truthfully, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing at the time. My plan was to talk to Bayleigh at the hospital… not to follow her and Neakah.

  I turned my ignition off after rolling the windows down to my Camaro. Resting my head back on the headrest, my mind went blank. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what to do. Completely clueless was an understatement.

  Ten minutes into my thought process, I decided to go for it. There had to be a reason I caught an instinct to follow her. I couldn’t just keep following like a lost puppy dog without getting results out of it.

  After powering on the battery, I pulled the windows up on my vehicle and hopped out. I walked across the parking lot and hesitated to grab the door handle. Taking a deep breath as I stood outside of the store, I almost turned around and forgot all about it.

  Contemplating for a few seconds, I decided to open the door and walk in. Once I was in the store, I drug my feet down the main aisle. Moving my head from left to right as I passed each rack of the sections, customers probably thought something was wrong with me.

  There was, but it wasn’t what they would have thought. My problem was I fucked up a relationship with the only girl I ever loved. She was all I really knew as far as true intimacy went. The other bitches were nothing but a fun time. The fun time I had led me stalking her, and her into drugs.

  Guilt hit me like a rock when I turned the corner of the aisle and located Neakah and Bayleigh in the ladies’ section. Shook, I stopped as my heart fell out of my asshole. I felt the way I did the very first time I laid eyes on Bayleigh.

  Snapping out of my trance, I watched as Neakah welcomed Bayleigh into her arms. Jealousy got a little into me, but it was only because she was hugging the girl I once held at night… and didn’t have a chance at it anymore.

  “Nice to see you again,” I voiced, making the ladies both aware of my presence.

  Immediately, Neakah spoke. Causing Bayleigh to fall out of her arms as she repositioned herself, Bayleigh turned around to face me. The soft, innocent look she first had instantly turned to a look of hatred and disgust.

  Her spats and tantrums turned into violence. Shockingly, she slapped the shit out of me. Over all of the years we spent together, not once has she lifted a finger, and neither have I. Shouting, scolding and disrespecting each other would have been the usual… especially our last few years together as a couple.

  She stormed off leaving Neakah behind. Neakah snapped into reality after a few seconds before chasing after Bayleigh. Without moving an inch, I kept my feet planted with pains and aches forming around my heart. If I didn’t believe that men shouldn’t cry, I would have busted out in tears.

  I put my hands in the front pockets of my cargo shorts. Trying to maintain my composure, I slowly walked toward the exit of the store. The feeling of embarrassment was furthest from my mind. The only mission and the only person who mattered was Bayleigh.

  Positive the two had left the area, I pushed the door open and strode across the parking lot until I reached the Camaro. I tugged on the handle to the unlocked, driver’s side door. Once I was in, I started the ignition and made my way out of the parking lot… and toward the place Xavior and I shared together.

  ∞∞∞

  Since getting together in freshman year of college, the relationship between Bayleigh and I was more than about being lovers. We were best friends. The fun her and I shared together excited me more than having ten million girlfriends like the rest of the new college boys were doing. Sometimes, the guys would tell me to live my life since I was still young. I opposed and assured them I was going to marry Bayleigh and couldn’t fuck it up.

  Her and I made it official a week after conversating in a class we shared together. The first day I saw her we exchanged contact information. Some may say that we jumped into a relationship without even knowing her, but I always responded with, “Feels like I’ve known her for a lifetime.”

  For five years, secrets, lies and infidelities were the furthest things from each of our minds. Trust and communication were always the key when it came to our relationship. When she was seen, so was I. Even on the nights where she wanted to go party with her girls and I wanted to chill with the guys, somebody, somewhere would know that our title was still intact.

  Surprisingly, we both were able to get our degrees on time. With all the skipped classes due to the vacations we would sporadically go on, I was sure that at least one of us would fail. At the end of our college days, we were shocked when both of us had enough credits to graduate with a Bachelor’s.

  She graduated with a bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice. Unlike me, who landed a job in the finance field after graduating with an accountant degree, she did nothing with her piece of paper. Instead, she wanted to work at a gym and get a discounted membership.

  “Why would you go for Criminal Justice?” I asked after she informed me of the job as a front desk attendant she had landed.

  “I only got the degree because it was free and would get me far away from my crackhead father in Washington,” she admitted.

  We both chuckled, but I supported whatever she wanted to do in life. As long as we still were able to have all the fun in the world, nothing else mattered. Financial conversations were really non-existent. That is, until moved in together at our five-year relationship mark.

  Since Bayleigh was on month to month at her place and it was a more expensive option, she moved in with me. I added her to my lease agreement, and we began splitting the bills down the middle. I offered to pay more, but she would always decline. She believed a relationship was fifty-fifty and wouldn’t accept anyone else’s point of view.

  During our time living together, our conversations started to become more adult-like. We were talking about owning a business, buying a house, and having two kids together. Our visions about the future were exciting, but somehow, it made me want to get all of the experience out that the guy’s in college warned me I should have back then.

  Xavior and I were at a party one night when Bayleigh was staying over Neakah’s. Just as usual, I drank, smoked a little bud, and played spades with the other attendees. Nothing was unusual until a group of women walked through the door, but only one caught my eye.

  At first, I snapped out of my trance and promised myself I would remain faithful to Bayleigh. But after a few drinks and thinking about a commitment with marriage being a subject, my relationship slipped from my mind. Once the petite, chocolate colored skin goddess sat on my lap at the card table, I knew I was going to have her to myself.

  I never been with an African American woman before. Hell, I’ve only been with one person my whole life! I thought instantly.

  When the girl turned around and began caressing my lips with hers, I caved completely. My boy, Xavior, sat at the same table and swears to the day he shot me signs to stop. He may have, but I was caught up in her. It was like she was a drug, and I was the addict.

  The next day, I woke up at Xavior’s. According to how much I knew I had drank, I expected to have the biggest hangover ever to imagine. Surprisingly
, there wasn’t one sign after waking up at eleven in the morning. Instead, I remembered everything that happened, how it happened, and yearned for more.

  I wasn’t able to find the same woman again, but I directed my attention to many others. For a while, sexual desires from other women caused fireworks to explode in my bloodstream. I had women everywhere, but if all went sour, I still had one at home in my bed every night.

  The day Bayleigh found out about the secret relationships I had been having behind her back, I felt guilt. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to stop me from doing it. I loved the attention probably more than I loved my bond with Bayleigh… so I thought.

  Once she suggested I leave the place since I was the one in the wrong, I agreed. I wasn’t going to let her struggle to find a place as a result of the life I chose to live. That’s the day I started living with Xavior.

  Admittingly, I missed the fuck out of Bayleigh. In the same token, I felt free and it overpowered my feeling bad for how much I hurt Bayleigh. Us splitting never seemed like a bad thing. I always thought about it as me not being ready to settle down with one woman. If fate brought us together again, then I knew it was meant for us to be.

  After at least of year of not speaking to one another, my heart sunk when I seen her as a victim on the news. Either fate was weighing in on me, or karma was showing me her ass. Instantly after my heart dropped, I began to think about all of the bad things I did to her.

  Depression and embarrassment crept up on me. Maybe my feeling to be free was finally wearing off, and I wished to have a bond like the one her and I shared again. Or maybe, seeing her beaten reminded me of how many times I beat her heart to death. Whatever the case, I was definitely beginning to feel the wrath.

  ∞∞∞

  “Let me get the fuck up,” I said out loud.

  The sunlight faded, and I was laying on my bed staring at the ceiling that became invisible since sundown. After shifting my shoulder back and forth before hearing my back crack, I hopped onto the floor from my bed. I grabbed my keys and phone from on top of the unmade covers and proceeded down the hall.

  “Damn! You leaving again?” Xavior asked, as a French fry hung out the corner of his mouth.

  “Chew your food and mind your business!” I joked before opening the front door and walking out.

  With my presence already being prone to Bayleigh’s eyes, there wasn’t a way I was going to give up on her again. I wasn’t stopping until I got her back.

  Neakah

  After rejoining Bayleigh in the room I kept for her, she was knocked out. When I walked over to her and placed my forearm on her head, her temperature was at a high based on the warmth. Instead of waking her, and after witnessing her sickness, I placed the cold glass of water on the nightstand.

  Before leaving the room, I stared at her. I wondered how such a beautiful soul could end up in such condition. She will always be the world to me, but I prayed for her to get her life together. If the attack didn’t wake her ass up from her drug addiction, then I wasn’t sure what would.

  Never have I ever been the type of bitch to cry, but looking at her, a tear fell down my cheek. Truthfully, if I didn’t have such a strict ass Asian father growing up then my emotions would be haywire all of the time. I chuckled thinking about my dad, but saddened thinking about Bayleigh’s. Staring at her long, dirty blonde hair as she laid, drug addiction in her family looked to be a genetic trait.

  Before I got over-emotional, I snapped my eyes away from her. After walking out of the room and down the long hallway, I turned to the kitchen and walked to the other side of my island. The pressure weighed heavy on my heart, and I needed a little relief from stress.

  Below the countertop of the island I had in my kitchen was a cupboard full of alcohol. Once the wood trimmed, small glass door was opened, I pulled a bottle of Hennessy from the shelf. A strong drink was in need and a Strawberry Hennessy cocktail sounded relaxing.

  Without closing the door back to the collection, I stood from my kneeled position and walked over to the counter next to my built-in stove. Once the Grand Marnier, strawberry puree, and sour mix was brought to the counter next to the bottle of liquor, I opened up the cabinet above.

  After reaching to grab the tin drink shaker from the wooden shelf, I placed it to join the ingredients. Without measuring, I poured the items into the shaker one after the other. When it was time to pour the liquor in, I was sure to pour more than the amount I would normally put in the cocktail.

  “Ahhh,” I expressed dramatically, after taking a sip from the tin cup once everything was shaken.

  Once I placed the cup back down on the counter, I walked a few steps over until I was facing the cabinets on the other side of the stove. After pulling a glass from that shelf, I closed the wooden door and went back to my place in front of the alcohol.

  “Shit! This is about to make at least three glasses!” I said aloud as if someone were listening.

  My glass was to the rim before I put all of the ingredients in its assigned spot. Grabbing both the tin shaker and the glass cup from the counter, I walked past the stove to the refrigerator which was parallel to the side of the island. Finally, and after lifting my foot from the floor, I was able to latch one of my heels to the door for the cooling side to open.

  Inching my shoulder inside of the door before the refrigerator closed again, I placed the drink mix on the middle rack of the hard-plastic shelf. Clacking my heels against the floor, I listened to the refrigerator seal shut before entering the living room.

  Walking over to my Ferrara sectional in the living room, I took a seat on the tan colored furniture before resting my glass on the coffee table in front of me. Once the glass was balanced on top of the rustic table, I leaned back enough to reach my arm down to my right heel. Unbuckling the belt around my ankle, I loosened the shoe from my foot before repeating with the other one.

  After I tossed both shoes across my living room, I leaned back over to pick my glass up from the coffee table. Since I had placed my iPhone on the coffee table upon walking into my house, I grabbed my phone with my other hand before leaning back on the sectional.

  Sip after sip, I scrolled through all the social media apps I had installed on my phone. About an hour into scrolling, I remembered that I had the doctor’s number. Excitement began to take over me as I cleared the recent activity from my phone's memory. Shooting up from the couch, I finished the last sip of alcohol I had left before Putting it back down on the coffee table.

  “Woah!” I giggled after realizing the tipsiness I was beginning to feel.

  Once I had my balance in order, I grabbed my key fob from where it previously rested next to my phone on the table. With excitement running through my bloodstream, I rushed to the front door and opened it before flighting down the deck stairs. Before I had a chance to approach my car, I had already pressed the button on the fob for my door to unlock.

  After my bare feet touched the cement pavement to my driveway, I jogged around the front of my vehicle before approaching the driver side door. I felt like a kid in the candy store after I grab the handle to my car. Once the door was pulled open, I grabbed the piece of paper that had the doctor's number on it.

  I rushed back into my house after grazing my fingers on the driver side door for it to shut. Barely, the door had secured against its frame. To make sure, I looked back and pressed the lock button on my fob while standing in front of the entrance of my home. My vehicle sounded one time as the headlights flickered, which informed me the alarm was set.

  After focusing my vision around and into my home, I stepped over the door ledge before turning around and slamming the door shut. I placed the fob and the prescription paper on the coffee table and grabbed my empty glass. Since the voice on the annoying ass alarm ran its mouth, I went to check on Bayleigh to be sure she was okay.

  With the glass still in hand, I jolted down the long hallway before opening her bedroom door. Once I walked over to the bedside, she was in a better state after
I confirmed that her temperature had decreased. Slowly, I made my way out of her bedroom and walked back to the kitchen. My glass was again full after I poured another drink as I stood in front of my opened refrigerator.

  Butterflies arose in the pit of my stomach, after I planted my tight ass back on my sectional and picked up the phone and number. Nervously, I sat at the edge of the couch and placed the number in sight view on the table. With my drink in my hand, and in between taking sips, I had built courage to press the send button for the text message to be delivered:

  Hey handsome! It’s Neakah. The lady you “prescribed” at the hospital.

  The next few moments went by and I repeatedly activated the light to my lock screen. When no notifications popped up, I began to get discouraged. Instead of holding the phone in my hand, I put it down on the coffee table. Just as I was about to feel like I got played, a notification sounded from my phone.

  Without hesitation, I quickly grabbed it from the table and pressed my thumb onto the circle button. Once the phone was lit up, I cheesed until my eyes were completely shut, as I squirmed my ass around on the cushion.

  The reply read: Hey beautiful.

  Flirtatiously, I typed a message in the text box… but cleared it once I realized the alcohol was speaking to me. Instead, I typed a nice message to him. I asked him if he was working hard, or even working at all.

  Based on the next message, he was on-call for a twenty-four-hour time period. Feeling bummed out of the plan to invite him over, I decided to keep my engage in conversation with him. Glad I did. I learned so much about the man to the point where I almost felt as if it were love at first sight.

  Just like everyone has a story, he had one different from mine. Instead of being in a strict home with loving parents, he was raised on a farm and fended for his own food. He opened up to me and told me his mother was killed at an early age. Without going into detail about the incident, I learned his father worked all of the time to be able to provide for him.