Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility)

by Belvin, Love

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Rayna

  Time blurred past after Azmir left for business that Tuesday. I’d busied myself with dance class, bible study, and my counseling sessions. Ironically, Pastor Edmondson started exploring the phenomenon of love and how it varied to the wonder of being in love. We had only gotten half way through it before the session was up and I couldn’t get any more questions out, but I’d had a lot of time to think about how it applied to my life.

  Usually when Azmir left, I’d longed for him from day one until he returned to me, but this time around my endurance was assisted because I had long days and even longer nights due to my show on Saturday. It had also helped that we video chatted nearly every night.

  The Facetime conferencing started off slow and odd…yet interesting that first night he was away, but over the course of a couple of days they had evened. I don’t know what it was about that first night, but Azmir had seemed withdrawn. He didn’t give me the impression that he didn’t want to talk however, he appeared peculiar, almost preoccupied. He struggled through it to coach me on how to give myself an earthshattering, toe-wiggling orgasm, something I’ll never forget. But something was off.

  Toward the end of our Facetiming experience, he mentioned that he’d just come from a Greek event with Eric and Mark, something I found hilarious considering they actually looked the aristocratic Alpha type. Azmir got a good laugh when he asked me if I’d pledged during my academic career and I explained that I’d considered it, but quickly realized it wasn’t for me, though Michelle went ahead with it and pledged Delta Sigma Rho. She was the sole Caucasian on that line and did not care. And I was extremely proud of her.

  Thursday came and I’d been preparing for Saturday by keeping the song I was covering in my ears, on repeat every chance I got. I needed it to seep through my pores so that I could excrete it through my sweat when I hit that stage on Saturday. Work sped by in a flash and before I knew it, I was at the dance studio with Jimmie who cursed me out every which way he could imagine.

  “You’re fucking up, The Lost One Found!”

  “If you’re gonna go this soft, you might as well get “lost” before Saturday, The Lost One Found!”

  “Shit, would a drink loosen those stiff ass muscles, The Lost One Found? You need to get the stick from up your ass!”

  No matter how hard I tried I kept missing drops, being delayed for beats, and my kicks were never swift and correctly aligned. I’d started to worry that I chose the wrong song. I was embarrassed and pissed to no end. Jimmie all but kicked me out of his studio that night.

  I headed straight to the marina, frustrated and filled with anxiety. I was soaking in the tub, sulking and trying to figure out what was biting at me. It didn’t take long for me to get honest with myself and admit that I’d put those texts from Dawn Taylor to the rear of my mind since Vegas, and not to mention her surprise pop up visit to Kid’s party had really rattled me. Azmir’s distance that Tuesday night still haunted me as well.

  There was something about Dawn Taylor that was different from Tara, Spin, and all the other women vying for Azmir’s attention on a daily basis. Dawn wore a speck in her eyes that told me she was different…dangerous even. I didn’t like what my gut was warning me of. I wish I knew if she reached out to him again or what his response was to the texts I’d read that morning in Vegas!

  My mind churned until revelation smacked me in the face. I jumped out of the tub, splashing water every which way until I got to my towel. I didn’t bother drying off. I just wrapped my body and went straight for my iPad that was on the coffee table of the sitting room there in the master suite. I typed in the web address to Azmir’s mobile service provider and clicked on “My Account”.

  My heart raced as I typed in a password that I wasn’t completely sure was correct, but I had to try. I didn’t feel the floor once the screen refreshed to a page that read, “Welcome back, A.D. Jacobs”. One hundred kilowatts of dopamine coursed through my brain and I jumped up and down, deliriously enthused by my discovery.

  It was the password he’d given me last month when we were having problems with the Internet while he was away. I needed to call the provider to rectify it and though I didn’t expect for him to allow me to make the call because he usually had staff to do everything, he did and provided me with a password. I had hoped he was like 98.9% of the population who duplicated passwords for the sake of sanity when they need to call upon them.

  I clicked away until I was able to pull up his texting records. It took the hassle of starting my search from present day all the way back to the day we were in Vegas, and once I was there I had to decipher the messages to locate Dawn’s. Once I did that, I made a mental note of her number and scrolled down the columns until I found it again…and again. And again? My heart was ripped from chest when I saw the nauseating amount of times her number appeared. I followed their exchange that started the TUESDAY NIGHT HE WAS IN CONNECTICUT!

  Dawn wrote: Azmir, I can’t stop thinking about our encounter earlier. I hope this does not put our business relationship at risk. Shayna doesn’t deserve to lose a heavy account because I can’t exercise self control. I am so sorry…well, kinda.

  A few hours later, Azmir wrote:Like I said, no sweat…shit happens.

  Dawn replied immediately. Are you upset over it? I really wish we could have a do over…not that I have any regrets about any of it. I just wish I knew what you’re thinking.

  It was just a kiss. No biggie. Sleep on it. Azmir replied sometime later.

  Okay. Let me know if you need to talk about it or if something will change between us…professionally or personally.Dawn followed up with that immediately and that apparently ended the conversation because Azmir never replied.

  The cogs of my mind started rotating—right away, quickly and hard! There was a few hours of delay from Dawn’s first text and Azmir’s response. I checked the times again. Azmir kissed her just before Facetiming with me. His delay was because we were…busy being intimate. Suddenly, I recalled asking Azmir if would join me in my masturbatory indulgence. He declined, saying that he’d had all the indulgence he needed for the night.

  Adrenaline shot through my veins and I started feeling a myriad of emotions and physiological responses all at once; betrayal, pain, anger, cold chills, self-pity, loose limbs, confusion, an up-rise of bile…bile…BILE!

  It was rising from the pits of my belly when I took off to the bathroom and hurled face first into the toilet, barely making it. I hugged the frigid porcelain bowl as though my life depended on it. The upchuck didn’t last as long as the ones over the weekend, but it was just as forceful.

  I blacked out for a minute, consciousness waned. When I arrived back to a cognizant state, I felt cold firmness against my back. I looked around me and realized at some point, I’d reclined against the cobblestone wall of whirlpool with my naked body squatting on the cool floor. I’d lost my towel somewhere along the way to the bathroom.

  I wanted so badly to cry, but I couldn’t. The tears remained at bay. It furthered bewildered my confused state. Azmir cheated on me with Dawn Taylor. The woman who I’d sensed was a threat turned out to be my worst nightmare. After a run through the shower and washing out my mouth, I found myself out in the living room at the bar, deciding on which poison I’d choose to help numb the pain of my heart. The heart that I thought was well-protected and wasn’t accessible to hurt.

  Azmir had so many decanters of varying shapes, sizes and colors, I was out of my realm of knowledge. I decided on pouring Azmir’s Armagnac, that I only knew because he drank it most frequently and I’d asked him about it. The tumblers were just as varied, but I grabbed the one with the shortest distance of my reach.

  The first swig was hard to get down. It burned my esophagus so brutally, but the numbing that came from the subsequent sips made the venture to amber juice worthwhile. After pouring my fourth glass, I sauntered over to the mammoth sofa, finally able to release the dam of my tears. They would harbor no lon
ger. The croak that lodged from my throat was so unrecognizable that it scared the crap out of me. Once again, for the millionth time in my life, I found myself in the throes of pain.

  Chapter 3

  Rayna

  I jumped up to a startle. My heart was beating out of my chest. I heard the THUMP-THUMP again, but this time in a conscious tense. Someone was pounding the front door.

  Afraid out of my mind, I walked slowly over to the door and as I got closer I heard, “Ms. Brimm…Ms. Brimm!”

  My stride sped up and I looked into the peephole to find Roberto on the other side of the door.

  BANG-BANG!

  The sound of him punching the door was more alarming up close.

  I swung the door open. “Ay Dios mío, Señorita Brimm!” Roberto cried out as he took a deep exhale. He looked petrified.

  “What is it, Roberto?” A damn fire?

  “Señor Jacobs called. He’s been trying to contact you for hours. He is on his way to the airport. He thought something happened to you!”

  Crap! What in the world happened?

  I grabbed my head, trying to stop the spinning of my cranium. “What time is it?” I asked in my post-inebriated condition.

  “Two twelve in the morning, senorita.” Roberto’s face was ashen in despair.

  Double crap! “I’ll call him now. I fell asleep in the living room. I didn’t hear the phone.” I blurted out the first plausible excuse that came to mind.

  “Si, I’ll go call him, too!” Roberto turned on his heels for the elevator.

  I went down the hall to the bedroom to locate my cell and saw that the was ringer was off. When did I do that? I had thirty-two missed calls and seventeen texts, all from Azmir. At that moment, I realized that I must have passed out in the living room and had been out for quite a few hours. I figured I had no time to waste and didn’t want him returning early from his trip, so I sent a text to Azmir.

  All is well. I fell asleep in the living room. Chat tomorrow.

  I didn’t wait for a response and kept the phone on silent. When I checked, I saw the house phone was muted as well. When did I do that? Memories of my discoveries had begun to flash through my mind, taking me back to my iPad. I logged in again as my time had expired from earlier and sat up for the next three hours reading and investigating texts. I didn’t fall back asleep again until after five in the morning.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  I was in my office, in the mix of my day when Sharon peeked her head in my door, informing of Azmir being here to visit me. I thought it was strange considering I wasn’t expecting him back in town for a few days. Did I worry him that much about not answering my phone?

  I nodded, gesturing for her to let him in. Within seconds, Azmir’s tall frame rounded Sharon and gaited in his usual, sexy manner into the room. He was laced in a gray suit with a stalk white dress shirt sans the first few buttons attached, and black oxfords. His heavenly scent preceded his proximity as he neared the front of my desk. Sharon closed the door shut after dismissing herself, leaving the two of us alone. My heart raced and my mind spun. What was up with this impromptu visit?

  Something was wrong. Azmir kept one hand in his pant pocket and the other at his mouth, gnawing at his index finger. This was something he did only with me when he was nervous about a pending topic, which was rare. My gut has proven reliable recently where he is concerned, so I braced myself. This didn’t look good. At all.

  God, please!

  Azmir cleared his throat, preparing me for what was to come. My body had tensed so much that my thighs ached in my stance.

  “Rayna,” he shrieked, voice devoid of its usual baritone nature. “We need to talk. Some things have come into play that has changed the course of our…friendship.”

  Friendship?

  So I am just a friend to Azmir? My limbs gave out on me, and I found my body slamming into my chair, thankfully missing the floor. My chest heaved. My vision suddenly distorted. The weight of my being left me as I laid sprawled out on the chair.

  Azmir cupped the back of his neck. Whatever he was about to deliver, it was difficult for him. And yet it was already killing me. I couldn’t speak to tell him to get on with it. The suspense chopped at my breathing.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’ve re-thought this thing and I don’t think it’s best for us to be together anymore. I thought I was prepared to share my life with you, or at least try it out…” Another pause.

  And another death I’ve died.

  After another tentative pause, Azmir continued. “I think it’s best we see other people. And if we’re going to do this, it’s also best for you to move out of the marina.”

  My head jolted back and my neck, unable to hold it, snapped it forward. I knew it! I knew Dawn Taylor would break me. Her existence marked the death of my holdings in Azmir’s life. I no longer held his attention.

  “Dawn Taylor,” I breathed, unable to find my diaphragm for much sound.

  “Yes and no,” he murmured on an exhale. “I just don’t think you’re cut out for what I need. I thought you were, but you’ve made every indication that you aren’t capable of being what I need. I’m sorry, Rayna, but I think it’s best for us to end it here and now. I can’t wait on a change that may never come. A promise that is a probable impossibility.” Azmir spoke in all of his CEO mien as though it was a business that we were dismantling instead of my heart being slaughtered. My life being cut short.

  “I-I…I…I-I…” I couldn’t speak.

  I was panting from my stomach instead of my chest. My body suddenly felt empty. Hollow. If I’d ever thought my heart was unavailable, it was nothing compared to my essence being robbed, my soul being snatched right out of me. I could feel nothing, no pain, no chills, no cold-sweats. Nothing but air in my head being pushed out of my empty body.

  Azmir barely looked at me. I knew this because with panic in my eyes from feeling that death was upon me, I cried through them for help. I was quickly losing the ability to breath. To live. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t be losing Azmir. He was my ray of sunshine. An endless source of strength. Loving arms to hold me up and push me into my journey of learning who I am, how to love myself. He was my next breath.

  “Don’t worry. You can keep Azna. He seems very attached to you. I could never make such a drastic change for him. I think you’d agree,” Azmir paused for an answer. An answer that would never come because I didn’t possess the ability to breathe in order to speak.

  Azna didn’t deserve drastic change, but I did? Why did he deserve asylum that I didn’t?

  “Brett is having your things transported from the marina to Redondo Beach as we speak. Goodbye, Rayna.”

  I watched his glorious lengthy frame walk out of my office with just as much ease and brisk as he walked into my life. The door shut. White clouds engulfed me. I was out. Consciousness concluded, commencing my death.

  What woke me from my sleep was Chef Boyd, making his regularly scheduled appearance to prepare breakfast for me. If Azmir and/or I are not out there to place our order by six a.m. sharp, he’d paged us in the bedroom from the kitchen.

  “Oh, Ms. Briiiiiiimm!” Boyd’s familiar voice broke my daze. “What would you like for breakfast this morning, sleeping beauty?”

  I looked around the room, trying to make sense of my surroundings. A rush of relief washed over me at being home in Azmir’s bed. Oh my god! It was just a dream—a nightmare. It wasn’t real! I’d never felt consolation as I experienced it there, nestled in the sheets of A. D. Jacobs.

  It was a good thing that I didn’t have a scheduled session with Tyler, who was away with Azmir this week. Azmir being his most valued client allowed for Tyler’s priority when scheduling. If Azmir needed Tyler, he’d wipe out all of his appointments and follow his boss for whatever specified amount of time. Lucky for me, my grueling extended dance practice sessions substituted my workouts this week and I decided to workout at the rec alone. I drug my enervated body out of bed to prepare for
my day.

  On my ride to work, I thought over the various messages I read a few hours earlier, no longer able to keep putting off my reality no matter how much I wanted to distance myself from that horrid nightmare. My summation of it was that Dawn had been after Azmir via text since Vegas. I wondered how far back her face-to-face advances took her. He kept his communications with her brief, which confused me. Why kiss her if you’re not trying to at least communicate with her? The remainder of their correspondences were business related.

  There were a couple of texts from Shayna, but they were all about some event that was in the works for possibly next month. I didn’t quite get the crux of their conversation, but it wasn’t personal like most of those from Dawn.

  I saw dozens of texts from Tara and could quickly conclude that she was vying for his heart again. So many of her texts had soft touches like, “Good morning, Azmir” or “I just came across The Best Man on BET and it made me think of Sandra and Paul’s wedding that we attended and the drama behind it all. Lol. I hope you had a great day.”

  None of those he responded to, but there was a heated texting battle, a few weeks back, about him not attending Azina’s christening. Apparently, Azmir didn’t have an interest in going and that pissed Tara off—majorly. She cursed him out seven shades of Sunday, all for him to fire back with silence. I eventually grew bored with Tara’s thread and actually pitied her.

  Lady Spin had sent a few texts as well. She’d asked to see him on several occasions, most of which he declined. Then I could surmise that they did meet, she wasn’t happy with him turning down her advances. And just like with Tara, my name was used to blame. And just like with Tara, Azmir would not dwell on me and said his private life was not up for discussion, though he did make clear to Spin that I was the lady of his life and it was best to leave their relationship in the past and move on.

  Call me an idiot, but I felt bad for both women.

  Though there were a half a dozen more suspect texts that were clearly from women, they offered no distrustful behavior on Azmir’s part. But Dawn, Tara and Spin’s pursuits were hard to ignore. Tara was a done deal and Spin had never owned his heart, but I wasn’t settled on his position with Dawn.