by Xyla Turner
A week passed, and they said they had the results. I did not want them over the phone, because I wanted to be around people for some odd reason. Not that nurse that took my blood, but people.
It was one thing to know a thing, but it’s another to know a thing. The envelope was handed to me, and the doctor said he’d mailed me a copy too. Originally, he wanted to discuss it with me over the phone, but I chose to come to their offices. He also brought a counselor with him, which made sense. Good, bad or indifferent, this was an emotional situation.
“Sheryl, the results are back, and it appears that Shawn Lambert is not your father. The combined paternity index is zero. This means that he is not your father.”
I replayed the words in my head a few times before I responded, which was a simple nod and acknowledgement that I’d heard his words.
“Thank you.” I finally was able to speak. “Wow. Uh, I guess that makes sense, right? I did this because I had thoughts and doubts. They’ve been, uh, confirmed. So…I guess this means a new chapter.”
They both looked at each other, but I stood up. Something clicked in me and I realized that I wasn’t fucking crazy. The man wasn’t my father, and I had no idea who the real man might be, but it was not the one who claimed me. It felt like a load was lifted off of my back and conscience. I felt light, joyful and even though a few light tears ran down my eyes, there was something releasing about them.
I felt free.
Chapter Fourteen
Jacquez
My best mate had been spending most of his time in the States, which meant we did not see each other as much. Usually, if he were in London, we would work out, catch a pint or piss around. I was not much of a phone talker or communicator, unless it was with Sheryl. She’d apparently dropped off the grid. I went to her job and found out the wife of my best mate decided it was time for her to go into silence. Noah was a dutiful husband, but I was a bloody mad man. I had not shaved since that day, I’d lost about twenty pounds, and my work had suffered. My assistant suggested that I take some time off, but I quickly shut that down. If I didn’t have work, I would lose my marbles.
Honest to God.
Something had to keep me sane. It was not my mum, because all she wanted to talk about was grandkids and Sheryl.
Bloody Sheryl.
I told my mom that she’d turned me down, told me that we always got it wrong and left. Just bloody left town. She took a leave of absence, but before she did that, she’d fired those motherfuckers. That was good, but she left. The first few months, I licked my wounds. Then the last few months, I got over my wounds and wanted to find the woman. Mom had the dirty nerve to agree with her. She told me You can’t have your cake and eat it too. It was right of Sheryl to leave and that I needed to not be so stubborn.
The more I thought of her words and the longer the separation went on, I figured that it would be in my best interest and the company’s to let it go.
Yet there was something that would not let me let go. Let her go at all. She plagued my dreams and thoughts, and I wondered if she was all right. Did she need me? Hell, how I wanted her. Not for the business or the baby, but just me.
Noah sent me a YouTube video with some guy talking about recreating life trauma. For the life of me, I will never know why he sent it nor could I tell you why I listened, but I did. Fifteen minutes later, I found what had to be tears escaping my eyelids as I tried to view the screen. I wasn’t anti-psychotherapy, counseling, or therapists. I just didn’t need one. I made millions and lived a life everyone wanted. Yet those tears were still coming down my eyes as I realized what a fucked-up disservice I’d done to myself and to Sheryl.
The man was talking about how one of his relationships did not work out, because he was trying to recreate scenarios where he was helping his mother. Each of the women that he dated had elements of his mother, and a lot of that went back to his childhood to help her. This resonated for me because the whole situation with Sheryl was based off reliving what had happened with my mother and my brother. He had been shot dead in the street, and my mother screamed out his name. I will never forget the bloodcurdling screams that escaped her.
And there was nothing that I could do. Mateo was dead and gone, and there was nothing that I could do. However, for Sheryl, I could do something. And I’d decided to stop my whole life just to stop the screams of my mother and Sheryl.
Always wrong.
It was based on something that was wrong in the past. That shit blew my mind. It took me at least two weeks to process. This was very unnatural for me and unlike me, but as I begin to unpack that trauma, I started to understand. Things became clearer as I was able to identify my issue and find a solution. There was one thing that kept me up, though…and that was Sheryl. I wanted to stop the cycle, and I would do that for her.
I could not reconcile my need to help versus the need to want someone like her. She was everything that I wanted: a thoughtful, sexy, sometimes submissive, smart, intelligent woman that knew what she wanted and went to get it. Even if that was a baby.
Our very first time together made me laugh because this woman would be so much more than a fight. She continued to do so, and there was always a reverence and respect that I will always have for her. But I’d decided that I wanted her in my life with or without a baby. Now the question was, would she have me without the baby?
I called Noah. I spoke to Maxine, who was hesitant but got on the phone and asked, “How can I help you, Jacquez? I’m not telling you where Sheryl is. So don’t ask me anymore.”
“I know, I know,” I chuckled because the woman was tight-lipped. “I have another question.”
“Okay, but please know that my friend’s trust and privacy comes before my husband’s friend,” she warned.
I had no choice but to respect it. Hell, I even admired it.
With a big humble sigh, I asked, “Would she see me? I just want to talk to her.”
There was a long pause but then Maxine finally said, “She might. She just might.”
That gave me a sliver of hope, and that was all I needed to hire my next person to hunt my lady down. A might or a maybe would work. That shit I could handle.
Maxine made it very clear that she would not tell me where her friend was, so that left me no choice but to employ a private investigator. Once I went that route, it was easy to find her. The woman had a beach house near in Virginia. A part of me wanted her to get the much-deserved rest that she needed and demanded. Another part of me raged because I didn’t think I’d be able to rest until I was able to get to her. There was definitely something missing from my life and that was Sheryl South. Noah said I was a bear to be around. Even my mother said I needed to go and find her, but it wasn’t time then. That had changed.
The community where she was staying had signage that read private and was in a gated community. After explaining that I was here to meet a realtor and driving my Maybach, I guess he figured I wouldn’t hurt anyone and let me inside.
When we used to talk, Sheryl would always watch the sunset on her balcony. Therefore, I knew she was either inside or on the beach outside of her home, so I decided to stroll and try my luck. It was late in the day, so the tide was low, but the sun closing its eyes for the evening was the most amazing thing to see, especially watching it with Sheryl South. It was almost the same face she had when she came. There was a wonder in her eyes, but a satisfaction that was almost impossible to recreate. Except, the sun rose and went down every day, and as many times as she would let me touch that delectable body of hers, is how many times she could expect to cum. Every time.
“Jacquez Costa.” She called my name as I stood next to her burnt orange umbrella, looking at the sleepy sun.
“Sheryl South,” I replied, but kept my eyes on the slow sunset.
“To what do I owe this pleasure and how did you find me?” she asked, but I kept my head forward.
“It was not your friend, Maxine, that’s for bloody sure.” I chuckled. “I had to u
se other resources. Go on, enjoy your sunset, love. I’ll wait.”
With that, I sat down in the sand, and the two of us watched in silence for the next twenty minutes as the sun slowly lowered itself under the ocean’s water. When it was done, Sheryl let out a big sigh and then swung her legs over the lounge chair to face me.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
Turning my body around, I nodded and smirked. I was tempted to grab her calves, but refrained.
“Many reasons, but the first was to apologize.” Looking up to her, I saw that this comment snatched her attention. “When I was eight, my brother was shot and killed. He was near the house, and my mom came running outside, holding his bloody body and screaming for someone to help her. I was young…” I paused to gather myself as the scene felt so real, yet again. “I wanted to do something. Bring him back to life. Comfort her, but I was helpless.”
Sheryl mouthed the words I’m sorry.
With a nod of acknowledgment, I continued. “What I have come to learn is that I ‘re-created’ this idea of helping her with my proposal to you. It was unconscious, of course, but also very unfair. I, uh, never meant to cause you any harm, discomfort or feelings that did not align with my original intentions. That aligned with my heart. Which, to be bloody honest, is gone for you, Sheryl. I have tried to keep myself busy, but I’ve not been good and also dealing with my own grief of losing our child. I’m not telling you for you to do something about it, but just because it was a revelation to me. It took long enough…”
My head turned to view the multi-colored sky that the sun had just fled.
“The second thing,” I began before meeting her eyes again, “is that I missed you and I know you said we always get everything wrong, but I was hoping that you could help us get it right. Not for the sake of a baby, but for us. You’re someone I have come to trust and know, and lately, I have my mates, Noah and all, but they are not you.”
A small smirk began to form on her beautiful face. Her hair was out, curly and unkempt. She was makeup free, didn’t have long nails or lashes, and there she sat, sun-kissed and much darker than she’d ever been, but she looked like an angel. One meant just for me.
“What was your third reason?” she asked.
“Well, my mom wants to meet you, because she’s sick of me moping around. I wasn’t moping, but she said she doesn’t want to see me until she sees you,” I told her honestly. “That is not me trying to blackmail you, but it’s my mother.”
This made Sheryl burst out laughing as she shook her wild hair.
Bloody hell, my mouth turned up in a smile as I was reminded how infectious her laugh was. At that point, I did grab her calf and held it. Once the laughter died down, she looked down at my hand, then pursed her lips.
“Well, Mr. Costa,” she replied and moved her leg away from my hand, “I am on a sabbatical and not making any decisions about a relationship or anything that will require commitments. While I am flattered, I am currently not interested.”
“That’s understandable, Sheryl,” I told her and stood to my feet. “Well, I’ll bid you adieu. Have a good evening.”
Her head jerked back, as if I’d shocked her. “Wait,” she called, waving her hand in the air. “That easy?”
With my hands in my pockets, I nodded. “You said what you said.”
“And you have nothing else to say?” she asked with a twist of her head, similar to a pug.
Shrugging my shoulders, I smiled and said, “I got to respect what you say. Heard you the first time.”
Her head jerked again, but with the corners of her mouth turned down in surprise. With a nod, she said, “That doesn’t seem like you. The man I know would move heaven and earth to get what he wants. No questions asked. If he really wanted it, that is.”
I nodded and said, “Well, it seems you know me. I am headed to your neighbor’s house to rent or buy it. Then tomorrow, I planned to bring you breakfast, because I know you value a good start of the day with your coffee and all. I figured since you have your nails cut down, you might go fishing with me and then we could go to the carnival, so I can win you a big teddy bear. One that says what I truly feel. You know, the one that says, I love you and I don’t give a fuck how long it takes before you see it. But if I need to wait until you get off sabbatical and start making decisions about your relationship, then that’s what the fuck I will do. Just wait. You’re the one for me. You’re the one I love. Baby or no baby.”
With that, I watched a tear slide down her beautiful brown face and then I turned and said, “See you tomorrow.”
With about eight steps in, I heard Sheryl yell, “I want an everything bagel, lox, and iced coffee.”
I waved my hand to acknowledge her words but kept walking. Then I threw up a quick prayer to God.
Let this woman take me back.
Please.
Chapter Fifteen
Sheryl South
On some level, I knew that the man was capable of finding me. Maxine wouldn’t tell, but if he wanted to find me, I knew that he would. I thought it would have been sooner, but I did not expect him to apologize. That caught me completely off guard. I damn sure didn’t expect him to walk away from me after I set the boundary. I also did not expect his response. Was he different? Did he mean what he said? I didn’t know, but my heart ached for him when he left. In my freedom, I embraced the sabbatical life, but when he said he was going to take me out and spend time with me, baby or no baby, let’s just say I was glad I was sitting already. I would be lying if I said that he didn’t mean something to me. Hell, that I hadn’t fallen for him. I was hurt, by my own actions, but my next work did not include a man. I was hyper focused on my father situation, and I had been running recon. My mother was little help, but my former neighbors were more than helpful. My sabbatical was only six months, but I was enjoying my new life way more than I’d anticipated. However, I was curious how Jacquez would infiltrate it, and more importantly how I would respond. This would determine how much I’d grown or not. However, what I decided I wouldn’t do was try to do this alone. Therefore, I texted my coach and asked for an emergency session. Where, as she always did, she put it back on me.
“Well, how does that make you feel?”
“Do you have feelings for him?”
“Did you welcome his presence?”
“Are you in love with him?”
These were all very hard questions, but only because I did not want to admit anything to myself. What if I was wrong? Again? We were always wrong, right?
The next morning, I woke up with anticipation of the day, and I knew why, even though I tried to act like it was any other day. At eight in the morning, there was a knock on my door, and with my heart racing, I answered and before me stood a smooth and cute Jacquez with a clean-shaven face. That knocked some years off of him, but either way, the man was fucking gorgeous.
“Morning, love.” He greeted me and held up two white paper bags and a tray of two iced coffees.
“Morning,” I greeted him back and moved aside so he could enter.
Like he always did, he walked straight to the kitchen like he owned the joint, set the food down, and began to pull out plates and utensils.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t you?” I sarcastically murmured, but he kept going and then sat down at the kitchen bar.
Before me was exactly what I’d asked for. Lox, everything bagel, and iced coffee.
“Bon appetite.” Jacquez held up his plastic cup of iced coffee towards me, indicating that he wanted us to tap lids.
Going along with the tradition, I smiled and said, “Thank you, Jacquez.”
And we ate. He didn’t try to seduce me or make any innuendos. When we were done, he cleaned up and then nodded and said, “I’ll see you at lunch. Are you down for fishing?”
Hmmm.
There he stood at the door, but it was almost like it was a test. Like he was tempting me, but there was a weird tingling in me that knew he was not joking
. He was honestly trying to get this right. I would test my theory, but for now, I also wanted to get it right too.
That afternoon and evening, Jacquez came to my place, where he picked me up and we took off to go fishing and then out to the carnival where he did, in fact, win me a teddy bear. It only had a heart on it, but he made a point to use the bear’s mouth to say, “I love you.”
This, of course, had me dying laughing in the middle of the carnival. We rode on the rides, played the games, and when I was playing whack-a-mole, he lost, and I had another competitor, but Jacquez was the loudest one cheering me on.
Heart ping number forty-eight.
One day turned into a week. One week turned into a month, and one month turned into two. We shared breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We talked and talked. He shared his epiphanies about him and the counselor he had seen. I told him about my life coach as well. I had yet to tell him about the father situation, but the more we talked, the more I realized he was sharing a lot.
Every day we talked, saw each other, and oddly enough, my focus on my father dimmed a bit. The distraction was Jacquez. Not his presence, because he definitely gave me my time, but the fact that our relationship prior to this had been based on sex. I mean, lots of sex. He and I had started with talking trash about sex. Now the man hadn’t hinted, mentioned or even made an innuendo about sex or a baby. He was still his normal alpha self, but that was around his ability to let me do much of anything, pay for anything or just be plain old bossy. I had my ways, but when I exercised them, he stopped. If I set a boundary, he stopped. At first I was shocked, but then he kept doing it, and two months later, after breakfast, lunch, dinner and sunsets, we fell into a routine.