Back to Life Series Box Set
Page 11
Pulling myself together, I put on black jeans and a green and black flannel shirt. Wrapping a wide leather belt around my waist, over my shirt, I completed the look. I didn’t have the energy to do my makeup so I just grabbed my oversized sunglasses and pulled my hair back with a black headband. Throwing some work into my laptop bag, I decided to knock out the report I needed to give to Deborah on Monday. And I know the perfect place to get it done, I said as I left the loft. I didn’t want to but I couldn’t help it, I went to Ty’s door. I didn’t knock; I just listened to see if I could hear any movement. I couldn’t, so I quickly turned on my heel and scurried toward the elevator.
At almost 7:30 on Saturday morning, the streets of Richland were pretty quiet. I took my time and made my way to the coffee shop. Walking in the door, I smelled the strong scent of coffee and the light classical music floating through the air. Not bothering to take my sunglasses off, I ordered a large salted caramel cappuccino. I looked around the cozy coffee shop and didn’t see any other customers. Perfect, I thought as I eyed a table in the corner.
I tipped the cashier and grabbed my cappuccino. I set up my laptop and spread out my work. This is more like it, I thought as I began preparing the new policy. For almost ten years, working had been the one thing that I could count on. It was straight forward. I’ve always had the ability to completely throw myself into a project because I never let in any distractions. Until now, I thought as I stopped for the 2nd time to stare despondently out of the window, thinking about Ty. Get it together Sahara! I shook my head and looked around the coffee shop. Surprisingly, quite a few people had entered the building. The bustling coffee shop wasn’t loud as I could still hear the classical music through the speakers. But compared to when I walked in, it was startling.
Looking at the time on my laptop and read 10:03am. “How did two and a half hours pass already? I thought incredulously. I looked in my bag for my cell phone to confirm the time and realized that in my mad dash to leave, I forgot it on the charger. Concluding, by default, that the time was correct, I finished the last of the policy. My head was down as I put away my laptop and paperwork.
“Sahara!” I heard my name being called by a familiar voice.
When I looked up, forcing any trace of any emotions back, I regarded her like usual. Giving her a polite, I said, “Hi Whitney.”
Working so closely with me, Whitney was not deterred by my lack of enthusiasm. “How are you?” she exclaimed as she walked up to my table, standing directly in front of me. Giving her a once over, I noticed that her dress looked more appropriate for the evening than brunch. The dress was also slightly wrinkled. Her makeup looked smudged. Her hair looked a bit disheveled. But her eyes were bright and she was her normal bubbly self. Hmmm, Walk of Shame Whitney doesn’t seem ashamed at all! Good for her, I thought to myself in amusement.
“I’m good, about to head home. And you?” I responded.
“I’m great! I’m having an unbelievable weekend,” her smile and the twinkle in her eye confirmed my suspicions regarding her late night activities.
“That’s good to hear. Are you staying? If so, you can have my table. I’m about to leave,” I offered as I zipped my bag, concluding the conversation.
“Yes, I’m staying. I’m here with a guy. I guess this is our second date,” she laughed. “We met at Jimmy’s last night,” Whitney overshared.
Hearing the name of Ty’s restaurant and lounge made my heart flutter, but I remained calm. “Well I hope you have a good time with your date. Pull up a chair and you both can sit here.”
Jimmy’s has become the most popular spot in town so if someone says something about it, don’t freak out, I commanded myself. I stood and allowed her to take my seat. I pulled a chair from the next table and placed it in front of the table. “See, you’re all set. I’m going to go. I’ll see you Monday,” I announced as I gave her a wave.
I turned and came face to face with the brawny, asshole Bennett who just narrowly missed running into me—again. “Sahara!” he said, surprised.
“Bennett?!” I sputtered, looking from Bennett to Whitney. “Is this your date, Whitney?”
Whitney’s bright smiled dimmed a bit, “Yes…?” she dragged out the confirmation into a question. “You two know each other?”
Collecting myself, I responded quickly, “No. We have a mutual friend. Enjoy your coffee. I’ll see you Monday, Whitney.” Looking at Bennett, I slid my sunglasses on. “Bennett,” I acknowledged, before leaving the coffee house.
I only got a couple of steps away from the front door before I heard Bennett calling out to me, “Sahara wait!”
“What?” I asked as I whipped around, glaring at him.
“Look, I’m not a bad guy. I’m just looking out for my boy. But let me apologize again for how I acted yesterday.”
“Cut the shit… Are you doing this because you think I’m going to try to ruin your chances with Whitney?”
“Well, that and I don’t want to get a lecture from Ty when I meet up with him later. But mostly the Whitney thing,” Bennett laughed.
I snapped, “I’m not going to ruin the thing you have going on with my employee. She’s grown and she already went home with you so the damage is done.” I switched my laptop bag from one shoulder to the other. “Are we done here?”
“You’re too pretty to have such a bad attitude, Sahara,” Bennett cocked his head to the side and smiled a slow Cheshire cat smile while glancing at my breasts. CREEPY! I thought.
“You disgust me,” I replied as I stormed away.
I got to Libby Lofts in record time. James, the doorman, greeted me as I walked through the door. “Hi James,” I said as I ran past him toward the elevator. I climbed in with 5 other residents and we moved in silence. It felt like we stopped on every floor even though we only stopped twice before I anxiously bounded off onto the 9th floor. Funny how a few hours ago I couldn’t wait to get out of here and now I can’t wait to get back, I thought as I opened my front door.
I locked the door behind me and immediately put my laptop and the newly reconstructed Miller Security policy away. I felt the enormity of what happened last night as soon as I put my things away. I couldn’t breathe. Leaning against the wall, I tried to focus on my breathing. To deter from an impending panic attack, I started singing aloud the song that had been in my head all morning.
Feeling more at ease, I continued singing as I headed into the kitchen. I put a pot of water on the stove and preheated the oven before I walked up the stairs. I took my belt off and although my hair was already back, I pinned it up so it wouldn’t be in the way while cooking. I kicked off my shoes and slipped on my slippers. Hearing the oven timer announce that it had reached 350 degrees, I grabbed my phone and ran down the stairs.
Putting the penne noodles in the pot on the stove and putting the chicken in the oven to bake, my stomach growled. I guess I needed more than just a cappuccino this morning, I sighed as I sat on the bar stool. I pulled my phone toward me and my mouth fell open. Five missed calls?! All from Ty, I furrowed my brows. Before I thought about returning his call, I checked my text messages.
Tyree Barker: Good morning, I had some things to handle last night and fell asleep. Can we talk this morning? I will leave from here in a few minutes.
Tyree Barker: Sahara, are you okay? You’re usually up by now. I’m leaving now.
Tyree Barker: I just used the spare key and your loft is empty. You were really upset last night so please just respond so I know that you’re okay.
Tyree Barker: I’m worried.
Tyree Barker: I’m sorry I left you alone last night. I shouldn’t have done that. Even if you’re mad, please just respond.
Tyree Barker: Please.
The text messages started at 8am and continued in 20 minute increments. My eyes filled with tears as I realized he didn’t stay with me. I opened up and allowed him to see the most awful truth I had and he did what I was afraid he would do: he ran away. I let my guard down. I was vulnerabl
e. I fell in love with him, I thought sadly, refusing to let the tears fall. I’ve cried entirely too much over the last 24 hours. I’m over it.
Taking a deep breath, I constructed a short text message:
Sahara Lee: What’s up?
Responding immediately.
Tyree Barker: Thank God! Are you home? I’m on my way.
As my thumb approached the send key, there was a loud knock on the door. Sighing, I walked to the door and opened it wide. Physically he looked every bit as good as always, the fitted dark denim jeans and the short sleeved blue, yellow and green checkered button up shirt fit his body perfectly. I tried to stay focused on his face only. He didn’t shave today and the stubble played up his features. My eyes dipped to his kissable lips. I jerked my eyes away and glowered at him. His eyes held so much sadness so I just looked away from him altogether.
“Sahara, I’ve been so worried about you,” Ty began.
“Is that right?” I countered in a flat tone.
“Yes, of course,” Ty looked hurt by my tone. Good, I was hurt by his absence, I thought callously. Shaking the thought away, I walked away from the door. He quickly followed me through the closing door. I rewashed my hands and checked on the food. The noodles were done so I moved them off of the eye. The chicken still had 23 minutes.
Leaning against the counter, I looked at him as he sat at the bar, studying me. I felt vulnerable and exposed under his gaze. So in order to counter those feelings, I was cold toward him.
“I’m going to be eating lunch in 22 minutes. Did you need something?” I crossed my arms over my chest, hoping he couldn’t see my heart beating out of my chest.
“Sahara, don’t shut me out.”
This time I didn’t respond, I just looked at him. We had a stare-down for at least two full minutes before he said, “Can we sit down and talk?
“Depends on what we talk about?” I cocked my head to the side and glared at him.
“I want to talk about what you said last night,” Ty stood up and slowly made his way into the kitchen.
“I don’t,” I retorted flatly. I moved further away from him.
“Please. Can I talk? I just need you to listen. I have—”
“I don’t want to talk to you about anything I said last night,” I articulated slowly, punctuating each word through gritted teeth. I continued to back away from him.
“Sahara…” he pleaded as he continued to stalk me around the kitchen.
I stopped against the refrigerator. “Tyree, listen. If you feel the need to talk about this, you can leave.”
“Sahara, I just want to tell—”
I interrupted again, “Tyree, stop!”
While he was talking, he made his way directly in front of me. Our bodies were just inches apart. I looked into his eyes and I felt a wave of emotions. I wanted to cry. I wanted to yell. I wanted to wipe the sadness from his eyes. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to go back to before I told him. Why does he drum up all these emotions in me? I used to be so good with a poker face, I thought as I shifted my eyes from his.
He caressed my face with the back of his hand, letting his fingertips dance down the side of my neck. I sucked in a sharp breath and closed my eyes. His fingers trailed my shoulder and made their slow, tantalizing descent down my arm. When his fingers found mine, he hooked them together. We stood quietly with our hands intertwined. I squeezed my eyes together to prevent the tears from falling.
“Sahara, please…I need to say this,” Ty pleaded, his voice hoarse.
I shook my head violently. He stopped talking and when I opened my eyes, the tears that I had tried to hold back fell. “No. No. The time to talk was last night… or even when we woke up. I’m done talking about that night. I don’t want to ever talk about it again. Do you understand how hard that was for me? And you just left. You left. So no, if what you have to say has anything to do with anything that I said, I don’t want to talk. If you can’t handle that, I can’t be with you.” I took a shaky breath after the words left me.
He took a step back. I saw the pain and hurt in his face. An emotion I couldn’t quite put my finger on crossed his eyes. His eyes looked glassy as he removed his hand from mine and rubbed the back of his neck. The silence was heavy in the room as we stood at a crossroads in our relationship. We’ll either be together on my terms or broken up on his, I thought as I wiped the last tear from my face.
Ty walked to the living room and then walked back to the kitchen. He stopped directly in front of me and cupped my face. He brought his face close to mine and I could barely hear him when he whispered, “Okay.”
“Okay, what?” I questioned with my heart racing.
“If I have to choose, I choose you. If not talking about it is what you want—what you need, okay.” His voice was thick with emotion.
“Okay,” I said feeling a mix of emotions. We’re still together, but he left. How can I trust him to not run again? I asked myself.
As if reading my thoughts, Ty wrapped his arms around me and said, “I’m not going anywhere baby girl. I had some stuff to take care of at the office and I was planning on coming right back. But I ended up falling asleep there. I just—I should’ve never left to begin with. I realized it when I woke up.”
I wanted to believe him. Looking in his eyes, I knew he was being truthful. There was so much sincerity, so much affection. But the feeling of waking up alone after baring my soul was too fresh. I nodded but I didn’t say anything and fortunately, the oven beeped to announce the chicken was done.
We ate at the bar in silence. I was consumed by my thoughts as I reflected on the last 24 hours and he seemed to be consumed by some thoughts of his own. He picked up our plates when we were done eating and put them in the dishwasher. While he was doing that, I went to the couch and cut on the TV. He sat beside me. He seemed hesitant to get too close to me. Which is fine with me because I keep going from wanting to kiss him to wanting to kick him, I thought with a shake of my head.
Flipping through the channels, I saw that Coming to America was on. I stole a glance at Ty and he was already looking at me. He smiled. I smiled. And I felt like we would be okay.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said quietly, extending his hand toward me.
“Sexual Chocolate,” I returned softly, taking his hand.
Chapter 12
After watching Coming to America, Ty left to play basketball and hang out with Bennett. I spent the rest of the day cleaning the loft only stopping once to speak with Ty when he called. He seemed to understand when I said I needed some space for the day, but I also liked the fact that he called anyway to check on me. I didn’t let him know that though. By time I finished folding my last piece of laundry, it was already 10pm. Feeling emotionally spent, I cut all the lights off and headed upstairs with my sleeping pill.
Looking at the time, I checked my email. I knew there would be one from Emily and I didn’t want Ty to be around when I read it. I hovered as I always do over Emily’s emails while sending a prayer. I double clicked it and quickly skimmed it, looking for any key words that indicated that this was an email to delete. Satisfied that it wasn’t, I read the email slowly and thoroughly.
Sahara
Hey, how are you? I’m good, happy. I’m really looking forward to seeing you soon. I don’t know if you’ve made arrangements but you could stay with me instead of paying for a hotel. I could also pick you up from the airport. I have news that I would love to share with you in person so stay with me, please. Love you! Miss you! See you soon!
EM
Maybe it’ll be like old times, I thought nervously as I wondered what facing thing head on with Emily would be like. A weekend with her would definitely have me on edge. But I faced things head on with Ty and it didn’t kill me. It hurt like hell, but it didn’t kill me. But I haven’t ruined Ty’s life yet so the stakes are higher with Emily, I thought suddenly, jarring me back to reality.
I took a two week vacation because I know I’m going to need time to get
myself emotionally prepared to be in Thomasville, to speak at the hearing, to see Emily…and Emanuel…and Mr. and Mrs. Mills. I planned on spending the first week of my vacation in Richland getting mentally prepared. Mr. McMannus would be back in Richland to go over my trust so we would go over what I needed for the hearing. I’d fly to Thomasville on that Saturday and I would return early Tuesday morning. I imagined that I would spend the rest of my vacation days picking up the pieces after an emotionally draining weekend. Either way, this is going to hurt, might as well rip the Band-Aid all the way off, I thought as I started replying to her email.
Emily
As always, I’m glad that you are well. I decided that I will stay with you, thank you for your generous offer. I arrive at Thomasville General Airport on June 15th at 5:30pm.
Love you always
Sahara
I shut the computer down and listened to the erratic beating of my heart. With my adrenaline pumping at the idea of going to Thomasville, I needed to occupy my mind so I decided to read the art and entertainment magazine that had arrived a few days ago. I can’t believe it’s already June. Time is flying by, I thought as I looked at the summery cover photo. Somewhere between reading 10 things not to wear to a fashion show and an editorial on the Maryland art scene, I nodded off into a dreamless, restless sleep. The emotions of the day (and night before) must have taken its toll. I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing—at 7am.
“Hello?” I asked, my voice deep from sleep.
“Hey… did I wake you?” Ty said
“You did. But it’s okay. What’s going on?” I yawned.
“Sorry about that. I have to tell you something but I want to tell you in person. It doesn’t have anything to do with what was said Friday night, I swear. I’m going to take a shower and then come over…if that’s cool with you.”