“I am sure you have heard it said that good things come to those who wait. So after having thought of you all day long, I have decided to wait. Because what I do know is this. You will open your eyes one day and know your worth. And that will be the day you will become my lady.”
He must have sensed I had nothing to say to that. He continued. “Now, I need for you to tell me what is going on with you. If you are going to be running to me in the middle of the night, you can at least talk to me. Open up.”
“I am married to a pastor,” I began.
“There are worse things. Continue.”
“And the truth is, our marriage is really a scam. We got married for business reasons, and it seemed like the perfect thing to do at the time. He needed to get married quickly in order to qualify for the church he wanted, and the woman he wanted did not want him. I was not getting any younger and wanted to live a certain lifestyle that he could afford, so we jumped the broom. End of story.”
“And somewhere between then and now you started actually loving him, but the feelings were not mutual?”
“Couldn’t have said it any better.”
“You cannot make a man love you, Allyson. That is one thing you must know about a man. We can live with you, have sex with you, and buy you the world, but our heart can be at another address.”
“Don’t I know it,” I said solemnly.
“I get it. So your arguments have been about another woman—a woman he is in love with.”
“Are you some kind of psychic? How do you know these things?”
“A psychic? No. A man? Yes. And to be honest, most men think alike. However, not all men act alike.” He paused for a minute. “Nothing is going to change, darling. You will always be chasing after a man who will always be running from you. He probably loves you on a friendship level but nothing more.”
This man was Dr. Phil and a psychic in one body. He was dead on it.
“It gets worse. The woman had his baby tonight.”
Hearing myself say the words was like taking the knife out of my heart and plunging it back in—deeper this time.
“She had his what?” He sounded as much in disbelief as I actually was. “Wait a minute. Let me see if I understand you correctly. The woman—the other woman—that he is really in love with had his baby . . . tonight?’
“You have indeed comprehended well, sir. That is exactly what I said, and that is exactly what I meant.”
“Whoa. Who does this guy think he is? You were in my clinic about to get an abortion because he did not want the child he created with you because he already had got someone else pregnant?”
“You are right again.”
“Damn. That is the sickest thing I have ever heard in my life. Who does that? And you mean to tell me this is the man you love? Surely your feelings have to be strictly held in place by the motivation of money, because you cannot make me believe you would love a man who treats you like the dirt he walks on. You have to know . . . Please tell me that you know you are worth so much more than that.”
While his words were the truth and nothing but the truth, hearing them arranged in that way made me feel like the fool I was acting like. Why did I always play the fool?
“Can we go to sleep now? I just want to disappear from reality for a few hours before I have to face it again.”
“Come here.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Come here.”
I reluctantly got up and went to where he was sitting by the window. He pulled me down into his lap, leaned me over so my head would be on his shoulders, and wrapped his arms around me.
“Your heart is safe now. Go to sleep.”
This man was slowly breaking me down. I was a bipolar catastrophe, and he treated me as if it were perfectly normal. I was certain that one day the tears would not fall, but it would not be today or right now. They fell freely, without hesitation, all the way down the center of my breasts. They flowed until my heart felt some relief. They flowed until sleep overtook me.
A knock at the door, followed by the sound of the doorbell, startled me.
I gently shook Seth, who was still holding me.
“Seth,” I said softly, “someone is at the door.”
He opened his eyes, focused in on me, pulled me closer, and kissed me softly on the lips. “Now, let me get up and see who this is knocking at my door.”
I stole away to the bedroom. I looked at the clock on the nightstand and realized it was shortly after eight o’clock and I needed to get going. I went over to the side of the bed I had slept on before falling asleep in Seth’s arms and sat down. I picked up my phone. Five missed calls from my mother. Three from Byran. A few text messages from friends. I cleared the notifications, got up, found my shoes, and went into the bathroom to wash my face.
“Allyson, where are you?” I heard Seth ask.
“I am in the bathroom. You don’t mind if I shower, do you?”
He walked into the bathroom and slipped his arms around my waist. I looked at our image in the mirror. We would make a great-looking couple. He kissed me on my neck, and chills screeched down my spine and made their way around to the center of my womanhood. I stepped forward, away from his embrace. If he was determined not to make love to me, there was no reason I should catch on fire with desire and be consumed.
“What do you want for breakfast?” he asked.
“I really do have to get going. I need to—”
“Need to what?” he interrupted.
Truthfully, I had no idea what I was about to do, other than go home, change clothes, and do some retail therapy. I had considered going to the church to work on my first women’s conference I was trying to organize. Byran had told me some of the ladies in the church had been asking him when I was going to become more active, so I had decided to begin planning something that would appease them. I had no clue how to do such things, but I figured I could not go wrong with incorporating things I loved, such as fashion, food, and money.
Seth did not wait for me to respond. “You can leave after breakfast.”
“Seth—”
He interrupted me again. “In the morning,” he said, “do you like pancakes, waffles? What?”
In the morning! Is he crazy?
“Pancakes.”
“Bacon, sausage, eggs?”
“No eggs. Grits, bacon, and apple juice.”
“Got it. I am going to order this food, and then I’m going to make a run. I will be back in about an hour or so.”
“Since you have to leave, do you want to use the bathroom? Because I can step out.”
“This is a two-bedroom suite. I will just use the other room. I got an upgrade because when I got here to check in, they had allowed one too many late checkouts, and there were no rooms ready. So take your time.”
With that he disappeared on the other side of the door. I went and sat on the side of the oversize Jacuzzi tub. The bathroom itself gave me a relaxing feeling of euphoria. The soft shades of vanilla and caramel were soothing, and the granite and marble mix was elegant and first class. Whoever designed the bathrooms had women in mind. It was simply beautiful.
I got up and turned the water on in the shower. I let my dress hit the floor and stepped under the pulsating spray of hot water. The water felt good against my skin, and I closed my mind and imagined all my problems, pains, disappointments, and failures were being washed away down the drain. I allowed the water to nourish my body for several minutes before I decided to get out. If I stayed in much longer, my skin would begin wrinkling.
I stepped out, grabbed the towel, and dried off. I sat down in the chair that was placed at the vanity, and grabbed one of the complimentary lotions out of the basket that held the other complimentary things. I also reached for the remote and aimed it at the mirror. No matter how many times I had stayed at the St. Regis, the TV behind the mirror was still by far my most favorite amenity.
The TV was tuned to the Food Network, and the Neelys we
re cooking up one of their famous dishes. I loved watching those two. They were a husband-wife cooking team who believed the love they shared was the secret ingredient in all their dishes.
I smeared lotion over my arms, legs, stomach, and other places I could reach on my own. A thought came to me as I did that. It would be so nice to be in a relationship with a guy who would do simple stuff, like put lotion on my back. I stopped momentarily to ponder the thought.
The doorbell to the suite rang.
The food.
I pulled down one of the two robes that were hanging on the wall, slipped it on, and made my way to the door. I opened it when I saw through the peephole that breakfast had indeed arrived.
“Mrs. Carson, I am here with your breakfast,” the butler announced.
Mrs. Carson. Had a nice ring to it.
“You can put everything on the dining table.”
As he placed the food on the table, I went and retrieved a ten-dollar bill from my purse. Once he had finished, I passed the money to him.
“Oh, no, ma’am. I cannot accept that. We have already been paid in full, and Mr. Carson has already taken care of the gratuity,” the butler said with a smile.
“Well, all right then. You have a great day.”
“You too, Mrs. Carson. Please call us if you should need anything else.”
“I will.”
I closed the door behind him and got straight to business. I was starving for some reason and was planning on savoring every bite.
The sound of my phone interrupted my delight, and I went and grabbed it. It was my mother calling again. She never called this many times unless something was wrong, so I picked up.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Allyson Kristina Ward, where are you?” she asked, clearly angry.
“That is not important. Is everything okay? Why have you called me so many times?”
“For your information, your husband is worried sick to death about you!” she exclaimed.
“Well, has he keeled over yet?”
“Allyson Kristina Ward!” she exclaimed again. “What on earth has gotten into you? You are speaking as if you have no sense at all.”
“Mother, is this what you wanted? To tell me that Byran is worried about me? Because if so, I am enjoying a very nice breakfast and I really want to continue doing so.”
I bit off a piece of the bacon.
“I am appalled right now. You act as if it is okay for you to disappear and not tell anyone where you are.”
“Did Byran tell you where he is?”
“Well, no. He just said he didn’t know where you were.”
“He is at the hospital with the love of his life and their new son. Oh, and that would be in Chattanooga, Tennessee.”
The silence was deafening, but I waited for her response. I drank some of my juice and then shoved a spoonful of grits into my mouth.
“I, um, had no idea,” she said quietly. “He called me over and over, asking if I had heard from you, and I told him no. He never once told me what was going on. If I had known, I would have told him that you were going to react like this. You always run when things get to be too much for you.”
“I texted him and told him I was fine. And I am fine. As a matter of fact, I am better than fine.”
“Where are you?”
“Again, that is not important. I am where I want to be right now, and will probably be here for the rest of the day. So, Mother, if he calls back, will you please tell him to stop calling me? I have absolutely nothing to say to him.”
“Yes, dear. I am sorry I called so upset. I, too, was sick with worry when I could not reach you. I thought something had happened.”
I knew she meant no harm, but it was just the wrong day . . . the wrong time.
“No problem, Mom.”
“Will you be going home today? Because you know Byran sent someone over to your house after you refused to take his calls, and he knows you are not there. He also knows you did not stay there, Allyson. And if you are with some man, just be careful, honey. The last thing you want to do is get caught and screw up your financial future because you are hurt and upset right now.”
Any understanding I had before flew out of a closed window. She had some nerve. How could she overlook the pain I was feeling and be more concerned about me screwing up my contract?
“Mom, I have to go. Because we both know this is not about me as much as it is about you. Not once did you express your concern about how devastated I must be right now. You are concerned only with your own financial future, because without me, you would not have one. Well, you need to be scared, Mother, because right now I don’t know what I might do. I am sick of always being the one sacrificing for everyone else.”
“Do not be a fool, Allyson. If you mess this up, what will you have? You are not accustomed to a mediocre lifestyle. You would be forced to get a job and work by the hour. Can you handle that? Can you handle not having your weekly shopping sprees and spa appointments? What about not having that expensive weave you wear or the purses you carry? So while you are trying to put it all on me, you and I both know that at the end of the day the only reason you are in the situation you are in is because you have a love for material things . . . just like your mother. So my advice to you is to go home and make things right with Byran. And if you are with some man, I hope you have sense enough not to get caught and ruin the reputation of your husband and his church. That would kill him.”
“What about what’s killing me?” I screamed. She was relentless. “Never mind. You don’t have a clue, Mother. Ever since Daddy walked off and left you for that other woman, you have been the coldest individual I know. You raised me to be selfish, just like you. And I did not realize until now that the only person who has suffered is me. I have cheated my own self out of happiness. You are right. I’m lying in a bed I made for myself, but I will not stay in it. Somehow, someway, I am going to figure out how to get myself out of this mess.”
I heard the key activating the door.
“Mother, I have to go. Don’t call me. I will call you. Good-bye,” I said, hanging up the phone, not allowing her the opportunity to say another word.
Seth walked in with shopping bags. He left me to go shopping?
“Everything all right? You look frazzled,” he said as he kissed me on my cheek.
“Just a little fight with my mom, but all is well.” I pointed to the bags. “So you leave me here to enjoy all of this wonderful breakfast while you steal away to shop?” I asked playfully.
“I would have taken you with me, but seeing that you did not even want to be seen walking with me yesterday afternoon, when I offered to walk you to the spa, I knew better than to think you would walk around with me in Phipps Plaza.”
“Phipps Plaza?” I asked, smiling. I liked him all the more.
“Yes. You do not strike me as a Marshalls or T.J.Maxx kind of girl. Am I wrong?”
“Not at all. You are absolutely, one hundred percent correct,” I said, cheesing.
“I know. So, since you are not leaving to go home until tomorrow morning, I figured you would need a few essentials. Undergarments, a new dress, shoes. Well, you didn’t need shoes, but I saw the perfect shoes for the dress I purchased, in Jimmy Choo. Just had to get them.”
“But how did you know what sizes to get?”
“You are the exact same size as my ex-fiancée.” He stood with his head cocked to the side, as if he was sizing me up. “You are a size ten in a dress, size eight in shoes, a thirty-six B cup, and a size five in panties. Am I wrong?”
What in the heck?
“Um, no, you are right again,” I said, practically speechless.
“I know.” He motioned to the food. “Are you done? Did you get enough?”
I looked at the pancakes, which I had barely touched. I really wanted those above anything else, but the conversation with my mom had somewhat killed my appetite. Besides that, they were cold now, and there was nothing worse to me than cold pancak
es or pancakes warmed up in the microwave.
“Yes, I am done.”
“Okay, go and get dressed. I want to take you for a ride. And before you protest, there is no need to worry. The windows on my car are tinted. No one will ever know you are in there.”
I laughed. Already he knew me too well.
“Okay, but believe it or not, I am still sleepy. Can I take a nap first? Afterward, I will go wherever you want to go.”
“Okay, fair enough. I could use a little more sleep myself. In a bed this time. I enjoyed holding you in the chair, but I don’t have the body I used to have. These old bones need proper rest, in a proper resting place.”
“Understood,” I said, holding in laughter.
I walked back into the bedroom but decided to brush my teeth again before escaping to la-la land. I had been so grateful earlier to find a complimentary toothbrush in the basket with the other items. No matter how cute you are, there is no need to walk around with breath that smells like a seal’s behind.
The TV was still on in the bathroom, but I was not fond of Iron Chef. So I turned the channel to CNN instead.
“We now take you back to breaking news out of Augusta, Georgia. One of the town’s most popular abortion clinics has been bombed by a group of protestors. It is presumed that everyone who was inside is now dead. A woman, who has not been identified and who was seen walking into the building when the bomb inside went off, lies in critical condition at the Trinity Hospital of Augusta. We will bring you more information as it comes in,” the news correspondent said right before they went to a commercial.
“Seth!” I screamed.
He rushed into the bathroom where I was.
“Allyson, what’s wrong?” he asked nervously. “Are you sick? Did you fall?”
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