That was why she felt that she could never take the chance in a relationship.
“Mental illness is hereditary.”
It had taken so much time to convince her otherwise. So much time to convince her that she could and deserved to be with someone who loved her. So much time to convince her that she needed to give herself a chance . . . and that she could take that chance with me.
* * *
MY CELL BUZZED as I had that thought and I smiled. Tiff and I were so connected; all I had to do was think about her and she’d call. But then when the number popped up on the screen, I frowned.
“What’s up, son?” I asked the moment I clicked on the Bluetooth in the car. “Everything okay?” If Trey was calling me now, that business he needed to handle had probably turned into some kind of beef.
“Just checking on you,” Trey said.
I didn’t hear trouble in his voice and I breathed, relieved that nothing was going down the night before my wedding.
He said, “I just got to my room and I was thinking, I’m your best man. Shouldn’t I be hanging out with you? Isn’t that one of my duties?”
He laughed and I chuckled with him.
“I’m on my way,” he said.
“Nah, man. I just left the lounge.”
“For real? So where you at? On your way to see Tiffanie?” He didn’t give me room to respond. “Yeah, come on over here, check on her, and then I can meet you down in the bar.”
“Nah, I’m not gonna see her tonight.”
There was a moment’s pause. “Seriously? Don’t tell me you believe in that superstitious stuff about not seeing the bride before the wedding? I think you should go see your lady.”
“It’s not superstition. I just wanna give her a little space tonight. Plus, it won’t hurt me to get home ’cause you know I have to hold it down. I have to get my rest so I can be my best tomorrow.”
“No doubt. ’Cause you gonna be hittin’ that like free throws all tomorrow night!”
I didn’t like his overly excited, overly expressive tone as he talked about Tiffanie like she was an ordinary girl. “Yo, son, I keep trying to get you to understand.”
“Whoa. Wait. I’m sorry.” He paused for just a moment. “You gonna have to give me a minute to catch up to where you’re at.”
His words were righteous, but that wasn’t enough. “Get used to it.” My tone was straight, no chaser.
“I guess I better,” Trey said, sounding like he took no offense. “I apologize again and I promise, I will give you all the respect you deserve.”
There was that word again. Deserve. Why did he keep saying that?
Trey said, “But, bruh, on the real, you did good with Tiff . . .”
I inhaled.
“I mean, Tiffanie,” he corrected himself before I could do it for him.
I exhaled. It was clear that Trey was trying, so I reeled in my attitude.
But then he had to mess it up with, “It’s just that every time I see Tiffanie and I think about you tappin’ that all day and all night . . .” It wasn’t a complete thought, but Trey stopped as if it were.
This was exactly why, for all the years we rolled together, I was the one in charge. Because Trey didn’t know how to listen. If I were anyone else, Trey would have major beef right now just ’cause he didn’t know how to show respect.
I had turned into my driveway when he added, “’Cause if she were my woman, I wouldn’t let her up out of the bed.”
I pressed the button to turn off the ignition and my Bentley purred before it settled into silence. And I sat in that front seat just as quiet as my car. Trey was pushing me over and again and I couldn’t figure out why. It seemed, though, that my closed mouth said more than any spoken words could.
“My bad,” Trey said. “This is real for you, huh?”
“As real as that heart that’s beatin’ and keepin’ you alive.”
“Okay, I promise you from the bottom . . .”
Even through the phone, I heard the way he pounded on his chest.
“From this point forward,” he continued, “you’ll have nothin’ but respect from me for you and Tiffanie.”
It was my turn to say, “Cool.”
“So now that that’s settled, why don’t I meet you at your place; we can reminisce about the good ole days when we owned these streets together.”
For a moment, I thought about having him come over. We could have a couple of beers and maybe I could talk to him about what I hoped would be our future. But being on the phone with him for even just this little—I’d had enough, at least for tonight. “Yo, I think what I wanna do is rest up, you know what I’m sayin’?”
“I get that. Just know that I’m here for you. No matter what has gone down, you’re my brother.”
Words from his heart that made me blow out a long breath. Maybe he wasn’t trying to get to me. Maybe he was just being who he was.
“Thanks, bruh,” I said. “And thanks again for having my back.”
He laughed. “Oh, I always got that. I got you, like you got me.” He hung up.
His laugh felt out of place and his ending felt abrupt. But we weren’t the kind of cats who spent time saying a long good-bye.
As I stepped into my home and replayed our conversation in my mind, I began to think that I was doing too much analyzing. If I had any doubts about Trey, all I had to do was think about where he was right now. This was his idea to be here with me, even though he’d been a bit pressed by our lack of communication. And now even tonight, after he’d taken care of whatever business he had, he’d called to check on me.
I needed to keep my focus on Trey’s actions and not his words. And not this gut feeling I had that had to be residue from the old days.
That’s what I kept telling myself, even for the hours when I just couldn’t fall asleep.
19
Tiffanie
I had a list of lies ready.
“I was at the gym . . . and left my phone in the room.”
“I took a stroll through the hotel . . . and left my phone in the room.”
“I fell asleep in the Jacuzzi . . . and left my phone in the room.”
That was what I was going to say to anybody who asked me why I hadn’t answered my phone. Not that it had started ringing yet, since there were still a few minutes before the sun even began its rise.
But I had to be ready with my lies, because it was going to take me hours before I’d be able to face anyone, even on the phone. Of course, through my cell, they wouldn’t be able to see my red-rimmed eyes or the bags that had to be forming beneath them. Surely, though, they’d hear my tears and through our connection, feel my shame.
The only lie I didn’t have was the one for Damon.
Just the thought of him made me curl up even more. I’d been in bed this way, wallowing in my humiliation, trying to forget last night so that I could make it through today. But my mind couldn’t get into the space of forgetting.
When Damon brings you in here, remember this, remember me.
After almost six hours of steady crying, I had no more tears. But there were still plenty of sobs within me.
How could I have done this? Was it really because I was just like my mother? I felt that way. I felt the way my grandmother had described my mother, with an obsession that had pushed her into madness. An obsession that had her making calls to my father’s wife, showing up at their home until they obtained a restraining order, and even, one day, leaving me on top of my father’s car while it was parked in front of his house. It was an obsession that had forced my grandparents to send my mother (and me) away, to live in a vacant apartment that one of their past church members owned in Los Angeles. It was my mother’s obsession that made her take her life just a little more than a year after we arrived there.
But my mother’
s obsession had made her the stalker, and that wasn’t what happened with me. I’d done everything to stay away; it was Trey who came into my space, he was the one who came after me. He was the stalker and far more dangerous than my mother, because he’d come into my space and he’d never left my mind.
And because of that, last night happened.
How in the world was I ever going to face Damon? Or look at my grandfather? Or walk up to that altar and stand before the God Who I prayed still loved me.
God.
Still loved me.
My mind stayed there for a couple of minutes, repeating that. I rolled from my bed and as I fell to my knees and folded my hands, I felt so unworthy. Isn’t this where I should have started? If I’d prayed last night, maybe I would’ve been able to resist that temptation. But I hadn’t and I was here. And praying was the only way I would be able to face today.
The only thing was—what was I supposed to say to God? Was I supposed to ask for forgiveness for being a tramp? Ask Him to take away the pain of my shame? Ask Him to shift the molecules of my DNA so that I could be sure this would never happen again?
I had no answers, so I just raised my hands and cried out the way I’d been taught by my grandfather. I prayed over and over for God to forgive me. Even when my knees began to ache, I stayed there, talking to God, ignoring the ache in my knees, so that I could ease the ache in my heart.
When I was empty, I opened my eyes. I couldn’t say that I felt complete peace, but I could say that I didn’t feel the war that had been raging inside me. As I pushed myself up, my glance rose to the closet door. My wedding dress made me pause. I waited for the anguish that I’d felt minutes ago to rush over me once again.
But, when I felt nothing, I stood and walked to the closet, focusing on what I wanted today to be. Pulling the dress down, I gathered the mounds of fabric and held it in front of me, then opened the closet door wider so that I could see my reflection in the mirror.
For the first time in hours, I felt an emotion that didn’t leave me crying. I couldn’t quite smile yet, but I did feel some kind of happiness as I imagined Damon seeing me for the first time. I could see him giving me that love-filled smile that always reached inside and crossed my heart.
I imagined him taking my hand when I got to the end of the aisle, and when I got to the part where we faced my grandfather, I closed my eyes, wanting to imagine the rest of the day.
It was like I was really standing right there, hearing my grandfather’s Barry White kind of singsong voice as he began:
Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to witness the marriage of this man and this woman . . . if there is anyone here . . .
My eyes sprang open and I repeated that line in my head: If there is anyone here . . .
Oh, my God!
I pressed my hands against my lips to keep my sobs inside. I hadn’t thought about that part. I hadn’t considered the line where everyone would be asked if they knew of a reason why Damon and I shouldn’t be married.
Trey.
He had a reason!
Oh, my God!
Falling back onto the bed, my wedding dress slipped from my hands and slid down my lap, spilling onto the floor in a mass of silk and satin. If this were a different time (yesterday), if this were a different place (not this hotel room), I would’ve been on my knees almost in tears trying to gather up my gown. Because surely a wedding gown on the floor the morning of the wedding had to signify something.
But this was this time and this place, and my thoughts weren’t on my dress. All that was in my mind was . . . is there anyone here . . .
What would Trey say?
All kinds of scenarios played in my mind, all of them disastrous. I heard Trey laughing, Damon asking him what was so funny, Trey telling him that he was about to marry a whore.
I heard Trey laughing and me begging, though all Damon did was glare at me, the loathing seeping from his eyes before he left me at that altar.
I heard Trey laughing as I turned to my grandfather, who lowered his Bible with more than disappointment in his eyes. And my grandmother crying, no, wailing was the better word.
And all the time, Trey laughed.
The way he laughed last night.
There was no way. No way I was going to do this, no way I was going to set up Damon or my grandparents or even my friends to play roles in Trey’s sadistic game.
I wasn’t going to the church. I wasn’t going to get married today.
The singing telephone froze my thoughts and every other part of me.
Won’t you stay with me . . .
’Cause you’re all I need . . .
I had to answer, because I hadn’t answered last night and Damon would never let two calls go without speaking to me. If I didn’t answer, at best, he’d have hotel security checking on me or, at worst, he’d speed over here himself, the way he always came to me whenever he thought I was in trouble.
I grabbed my cell, accepted the call, took a deep breath, but then paused. What if Trey had already gone to Damon? What if Damon already knew?
“Tiff?” Damon’s voice came through the speaker.
I raised the phone to my ear, squeezed my eyes, prayed that my heart didn’t stop, and croaked out a hello.
“Hey, beautiful,” Damon said. “I missed you last night.”
I released the breath I’d been holding and pressed my fingers against my lips to stop their trembling.
He kept on, “I called you, but I guess you were asleep already.”
“I was,” I managed to say, even though I was sure that my lie had been muffled because now I was using my fingers to push my sobs back inside.
“So, did you have a good night? Did you rest well?” he asked.
How was I supposed to talk to this man?
“Tiff?”
I took a deep breath. “Yeah, I did.” I closed my eyes and wondered what I could do to travel back in time. What could I do to get a do-over?
“I’m happy to hear that.” He paused. “Aren’t you going to ask me?”
I blinked. Was there something that I’d forgotten? Something that had left my mind because of Trey? “Ask you what?”
“About my night and whether I cheated on you with some bimbo who jumped out of some cake.”
He laughed.
I cried.
When no words came from me, he said, “That was a joke, Tiff. You were supposed to laugh, because I would never do that to you. You know that, right?” He didn’t give me a chance to respond. “You know what? I shouldn’t have even joked like that. I’m sorry, bae. That is something you will never have to worry about with me.”
I didn’t even try to wipe my tears away. I just needed to sit and take my punishment.
“Tiff?”
“Yeah?”
“I can’t wait to make you completely mine.”
If anyone here . . .
He said, “I’ll always love you. You know that, right?”
Even though he couldn’t see me (thank God!), I nodded. “Yeah.”
There was a longer pause this time, then, “Tiff, are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh . . . kay.” I could tell he heard my tears, though he wasn’t sure what to make of my despair. “You just sound funny.”
“It’s just that . . . I love you, Damon. I love you so much.” I couldn’t stop my voice from cracking.
“Awww, bae, don’t go getting all sentimental on me. You can’t cry now; we have all day to do that, right?”
“Yeah.” All day. Except I didn’t have all day. I couldn’t show up at that church and have my daydream turn into a nightmare.
“So, I’m gonna let you go so that you can get yourself together and get more beautiful—though that’s not even possible.”
I didn’t deserve this man.
“Yeah.” I cried, but now that he had a reason for my tears, he ignored it.
“I love you, Tiffanie. I’ll see you tonight.”
I hung up without saying good-bye because the sob that I’d been holding back exploded through my lips, and I was so grateful that Damon hadn’t heard my full-out wail.
Leaning back against the satin headboard, I did nothing to stop my tears. I just had to come up with a plan, some way to tell Damon that I couldn’t become his wife.
Should I just call him back? No, Damon at least deserved a face-to-face explanation of my betrayal. But as I imagined the words I’d say, all I could see was Damon’s face and his pain that was beyond anything that man deserved.
My only choice was the coward’s way. I could pack my bags and get on the first plane to anywhere.
The room was bright now with the sun that had fully risen above the horizon, but before it set today, my life would be completely changed. And so would Damon’s.
Glancing at the clock, I saw it was just a little before seven. I had some time to rest and figure out where I was going. I’d never lived anywhere besides DC, and the thought of leaving all of this behind made my heart ache. What would my grandparents do? And Damon? My heart contracted at that thought.
I slipped under the duvet and closed my eyes. If I could just have a little bit of rest, just a few minutes, maybe an hour. Then I’d get up and do what I had to do.
I’d disappear.
And with that thought, I slept.
20
Tiffanie
I was running.
Running faster than I’d ever run before.
The darkness was darker than any dark I’d ever seen, but still I kept running. The ends of what felt like bare tree branches scratched me and I felt blood oozing from my arms. But I couldn’t stop to check. I had to get away.
And then I stopped.
I had no more inside of me to go on. All that was left was for me to turn around and face the one who’d been chasing me.
He came closer and the moon rose higher with each step he took. Until the moonlight shined so bright that the night turned into day. And I saw his face.
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