by J. Lovelace
“How’d you—”
“Your mom told me where you lived.”
“Deja, what are you doing here?”
“I had to see you.”
“No, you didn’t. You can’t show up at my place unannounced.” In my head, I cursed my mama for giving out my personal business. I stood there standing in front of the only other woman I considered spendin’ my life wit’, the only other woman who I gave the power to hurt me. I stood in front of her hoping she would’ve gained a hundred pounds and lost all her hair by the time I saw her again. Instead, her body was tight like hard knocks, and she had an ass that stood out further than she did. Even with all the pain she caused me, I wanted to feel her. With all of the anger I harbored toward her, I craved to release that anger sexually. I wanted to watch her love faces and listen to her scream my name while I made her come over and over…and over and over. Shit, my dick was weak. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“About?”
“So much…everything. Us…me, you.” She removed her shades, held my wrist, and looked into my eyes. I could sense she was praying I didn’t turn her away. “Please, hear me out, Riq-ee.”
Riq-ee. Two years ago, I was her Riq-ee. I used to love hearin’ her call me that as soft as it sounded. In fact, I still loved hearing it. I moved aside and let her voice do what she knew it could. She smiled and walked in. I closed the door behind us.
When she noticed ESPN playin’ on my TV, she pointed and smiled. “No matter what time of day, I can always count on you watchin’ ESPN.” I used the remote to shut my TV off and stood three feet away from her. I stuffed my fists in my pajama pockets and stood there. I didn’t have anything to say. She had the floor. After two minutes of stillness, she moved a foot closer. “Your mama tol’ me about your promotion.”
I shrugged my shoulders. On the inside, I was heated. I hated the relationship she shared with my mama. Though I made sure to keep her out of my life by ignoring her calls and texts begging for forgiveness, my mama had been prepping her for the opportunity to come back in my life and fuck things up.
She smiled nervously. Her eyes darted from corner to corner as she stood there in khaki shorts, a skintight white tank, and black stripper pumps. She dressed in an outfit she knew I’d imagine undressing. Something to remind me of the loving we had. Her caramel-covered thighs glistened in the appearance of sunlight. Her lips were covered in pink lipstick, and her eyes shadowed with black shimmer. We stood in my living room trying not to stare at each other, taking one another in. Watching her turned me on. She never let herself go. Before she cheated, a woman like Simoné would have never had the chance to sneak into my bedroom and hurt me like she did. I reminded myself Deja was the reason why I was in that situation. I stopped watching her and refused to let that anger resurface. “Your mama also tol’ me that you’re not datin’ anyone…anymore.”
“Damn, you and mama talked about me all day.” I stared down at my bare feet. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here, Deja.”
“I miss you, Riq-ee. I miss you all the time. When I heard you moved in wit’ someone else, I went crazy. I lost ten pounds, and my hair was fallin’ out. I miss you so much.” She moved a foot closer. “Then when I heard things weren’t going, well…I know it sounds bad, but…I was happy. I was happy to know that there was a chance that we could make it.”
“We can’t make it. All the shit did was sour me toward you even more.”
“Riq, you never gave me a chance. You never even tried to work things out. You saw me with someone else and that was it. How do I know that you even loved me when it was so easy for you to walk out on me? Your mama told me how you gave her a second chance, and look what she did to you. I was pissed. If you gave me another chance, I wouldn’t have messed up again, Riq.”
I moved a foot closer. The anger resurfaced. My muscles tightened in the worst way. My blood temperature rose, and I wanted that same opportunity I had to punch her lover in the face when I saw him in that restaurant. “Excuse me?” I rubbed the top of my head and chuckled. Pissed that I couldn’t speak, all I could do was laugh. “Because I didn’t fight for a chick who lied to me, fucked around on me, and embarrassed me, I’m fuckin’ wrong?”
“I never fucked around on you, Riq. He…he was the only one.”
“That shit makes it better?”
“No…you could’ve given me the chance to talk to you. Shit, you fought for her. You shut me out like I wasn’t shit, Riq.”
“You weren’t!” I was in her face. My eyes stared deep into her almond-shaped chestnut eyes—hurt, longing eyes that needed me to hold her. I stared into her light-brown eyes and refused to give in to that feeling of wanting to hold her. I moved a foot backward. “I loved you, Deja. I was so crazy in love with you, and you still chose to make a fool out of me. Why would I fight for you? You wasn’t tryna fight for me.”
“Did you love her?”
I smacked my lips and turned my head. “Hell no.”
“Then why did she get a second chance, Tariq? Why wasn’t our love worth it?” She licked her pink lips and took a deep breath. She moved a foot away from me. Folding her arms beneath her breasts, she shook her head and pushed up her lips. “Besides, it wasn’t my fuckin’ fault I cheated on you, Riq.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I’m tired of you goin’ ’round blamin’ me like I fucked our lives up. You never appreciated me, never talked to me, and never took me out. Hell, you never did anything but work and sleep. What the fuck was I supposed to do, Riq? You come in my face talkin’ like you’re the victim. He was there for me and you weren’t. You did this to yourself, and you need to stop blaming’ me. I’m tired of it.”
I jolted my head back and dropped my jaw. I turned around when all I saw was her lover’s face. On her shoulders, he stared back at me, taunting me. I pictured him making love to her, holding her, caressing her, listening to her call him babe, and kissing her pink lips. I was through reliving that pain. I rammed my fist into my kitchen wall and walked to the front door. I didn’t look back; I opened the door and gestured for her to leave. “You gotta go, Deja.”
She stood there. I realized she would stand there for a couple seconds before she agreed to leave, and I was cool with that as long as she left. Instead, she shook her head and walked to my couch. “No, Riq.” She sat down and crossed her legs as she stared at my blank TV screen. Avoiding eye contact. “We’re gonna talk. I’m not giving up this time. You’re angry, and I can understand that, but we can move past this.”
I slammed my door shut and didn’t move. I wasn’t going to physically throw her out, but if I moved too fast, I’d see his face on her shoulders again. I’d see his face laughing at me, and all I’d want to do is black his eye like I wanted to the first time. I stood at my door not moving.
“I know you missed me, Riq.” She bounced her knee as she wrapped her hands around her knees. She looked over at me. “That’s why shit hasn’t worked out with you. You’re not over me. I know it because I know I’m not over you. And we won’t be rid of each other that easily. I love you, and you love me.”
“According to you…” I paused and sucked in my lips forcefully. I squeezed my door handle and took deep breaths. “Accordin’ to you, I didn’t love you. Not like yo’ man could. I had what was coming to me.”
“I didn’t mean to say it like that. Can you come sit down and talk to me? Can we get past this?”
“No! I dunno if you got stupid o’ something, but shit ain’t that easy. You’ve always been so fuckin’ spoiled. You think I’m supposed to get over this shit ’cause you say so? Is that why you decided to fuck that dude? Is it because he let you run over his punk ass? Say whatever the fuck you wanna say, but I wasn’t sleepin’ around. I didn’t fuck other hoes, which is what I would’ve done had I stayed around. You were feelin’ neglected and wanted me home more? You should’ve told me something. You cheatin’ on me ain’t my fault. That’s
all on you.”
“I told you, Riq. I told you how I wanted to spend more time with you. I told you how lonely I felt. I never hid that from you.”
“I never knew you were that unhappy, Deja, at least not to that extent. Not to the extent to which you would be with another man and humiliate me like I ain’t mean shit. I never thought you of all people would do some shit like that.”
“I’m sorry, Riq. I’m sorry a million times over.” She stood up and walked toward me. I didn’t want her near me, but she didn’t pick up on it. She drifted in my direction with a devious look in her eyes. “I need you to forgive me. I need us to get past this. I made a mistake, and I paid for it but, please forgive me, Riq-ee.” By the time she was through with her plea, she was damn near on top of me. My back was against the wall, and I felt trapped like a prisoner. We were standing there, centimeters apart. Feeling her breath on my neck was a familiar feeling that I actually missed. She was so close I felt her heart beating through her chest like a drumbeat. Boom…boom…thump…thump…thump.
When she moved in closer, I tried to move away, but I was paralyzed. She moved in and kissed me like she used to. Her kisses were always warm and gentle. Her kisses were reminiscent to summer breezes, kindly flowing through and around my lips, makin’ my knees weak. She was an unhealthy weakness that I missed—emphatically. I craved her like a narcotic. I held her close to me and reluctantly kissed her back. We kissed like we used to, slowly and passionately. We’d tug at each other’s tongues and let our lips fall over each other’s like parachutes. When she slipped her arms around my neck, I was through with the tenderness. I was angry and needed to release it on the person who deserved it most.
I unzipped her shorts and led her to my kitchen counter. She wiggled out of her shirt and slid it off her shoulders. We stepped over it as I pushed her into my kitchen and pulled down her shorts, taking her panties down, too. When they hit the floor, I pulled away from our kiss and gazed at her. Her body was beautiful. I rubbed her arms, caressing the skin I once called mine. I sat her up on my counter and touched the folds of her pussy. With my fingers inside, memories flooded my senses. Her pussy was always soft, wet walls of plush decadence. Tiny hairs covered a hole that I’d play with for fun; I remembered how her legs would twitch when I slithered my tongue in between her pussy lips, nibbling on her skin gently as she grabbed the back of my head and called me Daddy. My penis had never been as erect as it was for her. I stopped reminiscing, pulled my boxers down, and put it inside of her. As her head tilted back, I remembered how the skin under her neck, the brown, caramel-and-mocha complexion always gleamed when sweat would drip down the side of her neck and between her breasts. Roasted-peanut-colored nipples would stare back at me as I pushed deep inside her, rocking her body back and forth. I unhooked her bra so I could see that stare.
She gripped the edge of the counter as she chewed her lips and moaned in satisfaction. I used to hum to her moans. The sound of her satisfaction always made a tune I could hum to. Our bodies were in synch, and I loved hearing it. I hummed as I spread her thighs and listened to the backdrop of her moisture attempting to escape. Pale, white stickiness that would engulf the skin on my penis and wet the darker skin surrounding her lips, those sweet, wet pussy lips that resembled strawberries. We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to speak. There was no room for words, only the sound of her rhythmic moans and my hums. We made music that our bodies danced to.
I released the anger that I felt toward her on her body and made her body crumple, tense, shake, and scream as our sweat mixed and mingled. If she hadn’t moved so close, and if I hadn’t heard the drumbeat in her chest, I would’ve never known how badly I needed to feel her. Her sex was the narcotic I needed to make me lose control. I was intoxicated from her essence. I supported myself on my kitchen counter as I pounded into her, grabbing her left ass cheek while I went in deeper and much, much harder. She opened her mouth and moaned louder, trying not to break our rhythm or make bodies lose the beat. I watched as my desert sand-colored penis got immersed with a thickening white cream that seeped from her body and covered mine. I panted as my heart thumped to the same drumbeat. Suddenly, I stopped. I felt myself coming and stopped myself from the temptation. I pulled away from her and caught my breath. She, knowing my body, pulled me and led my dick back to its destination. I didn’t want her to make me come. I didn’t want her to have that hold over my body, but before I could resist, she clasped her clitoris around my shaft, and almost instantly, I came. I erupted as my penis imploded within her. I pulled away again and kept the rest outside of her. She, proud of her accomplishment, caught her breath, too, as she tied her hair up and smiled.
I helped her down. When her feet hit the floor, she leaned on my chest as she regained strength in her knees. She whispered, “I love you, Riq-ee. I want us to work again.” When she kissed me again, I didn’t pull away like I wanted to. I kissed her back and licked the sweat that dripped down her face. I didn’t want to, but I was looking forward to round two.
Deja hunched down and grabbed her phone from her pocket. I draped my arms around her waist and kissed her shoulders. As she scrolled through her phone, she tilted her head back. She exhaled as I felt her melt in my arms. We stood there in the moment; two seconds later, I peeked over her shoulder and glanced at her phone. She opened one of her text logs. I ain’t wanna read her texts, but the name of the sender caught my attention. Traevon. The name looked familiar. I stopped kissing her neck as I tried to remember the emotion associated with the name Traevon. All I could think of was rage. I read the text in her inbox. “I know you’re mad. I was wrong for fuckin’ yo’ homegirl. But I wanna kiss n’ make up, fuckin’ ‘til the sun cum up like u know we can.” Yep, rage was the fitting emotion. Fucking Traevon was the nigga she fucked. Her lover. Two years later, and Traevon had mistreated her like she did me, and they were still fuckin’ and lovin’. I was now the man who intruded on the relationship she built with another man. I took a deep breath and let her go.
Deja looked back down at her phone and turned to face me. “Riq…”
I put up my hand to stop her. “Don’t worry ’bout it.” I picked up her clothes and handed them to her. After she got dressed, she put away her phone and rushed to hold my neck in her arms. I pulled her away and shook my head. “It’s cool, Deja. You left me for him, and now you come here he’s doin’ you wrong.”
Deja shook her head like she was having a seizure. “No…no, baby that’s not true. It’s you I wanna be with…you. I never left you. You kicked me out. You left me.”
I walked back to my door and opened it. She stared at me and wiped her infamous tears. I turned my head and stared at the hallway. “You gotta get outta here, Deja. I can’t let you keep doin’ this shit to me. Run back to him.”
“Riq, please. Don’t do me like this.” She ran up to me in an attempt to kiss me like we used to. I moved my face away and frowned.
“Deja!” I snapped. “Go. Now.” I let the door go and walked into my bedroom, shuttin’ the door behind me. I wasn’t gonna let her stand there giving me those puppy dog eyes. I needed her out of my place, out of my face, and back to the lover that repaid her the same heartache she paid me. There was silence for a solid five minutes before I heard my front door slam shut. I took a deep breath and walked back into my living room. I was alone again and unremorseful about the experience I shared with a woman I once needed. I locked the door and stared at my empty living room. I cleared my throat and dropped my shoulders. It was clear now. I ran from love with the failure I experienced with Deja. However, more sure now than ever, I was free from her. Free to find a woman that truly did deserved my time, whenever that time was.
• • •
That was until I saw Simoné standin’ at my door. Her presence at my door wasn’t what took me by surprise. What really took me by surprise was the glow she had. Her big round eyes covered by her long, black bangs, like when I first met her. This time, though, when I looked into her eyes, I saw m
ore than anger. I couldn’t shoo her away as easily as I did before. I would have to stop looking at her eyes and pay more attention to her stomach, which stuck out further than when I last saw her. Her stomach was draped in a long black maxi dress like she was in mourning. I stood in my hallway with my keys in my hand as I breathed deeply. I may have wanted to walk away and never look back, but I wouldn’t be the son my mother raised. Eventually, I was going to have to face the reality that there was a pregnant woman waiting for me at my door.
As I walked toward her, everything moved in slow motion while I considered numerous ways to avoid this from actually happening. In light of recent events, I felt the baby prolly wasn’t even mine. But I couldn’t turn her away and then find out the baby really was mine. I never really thought about fathering a baby, but when I did, I would be there to handle my business. When I reached my door, I kept my eyes on her eyes, longing eyes that prayed I wouldn’t betray her like she did me. “Hey,” I said.
“Hey.”
Grudgingly, I asked, “You wanna come inside?”
She nodded and exhaled. When she walked in, I closed the door behind us. I couldn’t help but think about the idea of running back into my G and driving off, anything but manning up to my responsibilities, especially if they were even mine to face. “How’d you find out where I stayed?”
She held her stomach and shrugged her shoulders. “Yo’ mama told me. It wasn’t easy getting’ it out of her. At first, I thought she gave me the wrong address.”