Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility)

by Belvin, Love

  Orange roses represent Pride and Fascination.

  Congratulations on a job I know was well done.

  I am all too sorry that I wasn’t able to be in the audience,

  but I’ll hold onto my front row experience

  a few months ago at your former home.

  Forever Missing You,

  A.D. Jacobs

  My breath hitched. Surprise, sadness, excitement, lasciviousness, and a few other sentiments were felt concurrently in flashes. I was mindful of being watched, so I tucked the card back into the envelope, turned to my small group and with a smile, thanked them again for their support.

  Everyone gave a hug, one by one, with Petey being the last. He looked over my shoulder, causing me to do the same and I noticed Brian and Brandy leaning against aisle-seats, waiting on me to escort them backstage. Brandy spied the stage while Brian kept his eyes glued to me—and then Petey.

  Petey leaned into me, slyly asking, “You gone be okay, Rayna? Did Ray drive you here?” He wore a look of unease.

  I gave him a warm smile and a nudge. “I’ll be fine, Crack,” throwing him the moniker Azmir would use from time to time. “Thompson is a colleague of mine. I don’t socialize with him outside of work and I won’t start tonight. His niece is in town and is an aspiring dancer, so I invited them out for inspirational purposes. Don’t worry.”

  Petey cracked a smile at that, something I was relieved to see. I didn’t want to stir up any conflicting feelings among Azmir’s friends. I didn’t invite them to perpetuate the drama that I always seem to find myself in when I’m around them with Syn.

  “Alright, ma. Divine was fucked up that he couldn’t make it. I’m sure y’all will rap about that.” His tone was assuring.

  I knew he was making a plea for his dear friend, but I wondered was it genuine or because he saw another man there, posing a threat. I also hadn’t forgotten about what I was by now convinced was cover up operation at Kid’s party in Vegas with Dawn Taylor and Shayna Bacote. I gave him a wink and he strolled over to the waiting crowd. I waved my goodbyes as they left the auditorium.

  The evening ended just as uneventful as I’d promised Petey. I introduced Brandy to Jimmie and a few of the dancers who were still hanging around backstage. Erica even showed Jimmie a few of her moves. She looked promising as he critiqued and corrected a couple of them. Brian invited me out to dinner with them, and as much as Brandy’s zeal from the invitation pulled at my heartstrings, I declined. I was exhausted and really looked forward to worship service the next morning. I’d also missed Azna. With all my time at the studio this week I really hadn’t spent much time with him. He did however, lick my hands when I cried at nights from my heartache and snuggled with me when I tried falling asleep.

  When I stepped off the elevator at the marina, I saw them—all six dozen of them, lined up from across the elevator, against wall to the apartment door. They were large clear vases, filled with long stem, fully blossomed orange roses. And to my surprise, when I opened the door, there were more—exactly twelve more—vases, perfectly aligned down the corridor, leading to the master suite.

  Azna trotted out from the back of the apartment with his miniature frame, drew up and scratched at my calf. He must have been frightened out of his mind at the ruckus of getting them in here. I’m sure Azmir paid a small fortune for all of them and had Roberto or the on-duty concierge arrange them like this. The gesture was thoughtful, but the emptiness in my belly reminded me of his infidelity.

  I sat on the bed and cried for what seemed like hours until I was startled by the sound of my phone ringing. It was Azmir. I couldn’t talk. I wasn’t ready to. I waited until after my bath when I had calmed down and my eyes had returned to their normal state and sent him a text saying thanks and that I would call him the following day.

  How long can I get by like this?

  It would be some time before I would be able to anchor my feelings. Sorting through them can be difficult when you shove them to the back of your mind so that you don’t have to deal with the pain of them. Some moments, I felt I wanted to abandon the relationship that didn’t exactly have a category. Others, I truly believed I couldn’t live without Azmir. He had awakened so much life and essential substance deep down inside of me.

  Azmir stirred passion in me with his companionship, two things that I’d never dreamt of. Two things that I didn’t think I could live without moving forward, after having experienced them with Azmir. I didn’t want to let go of those things and didn’t know if I’d find another being that I’d let in enough to experience life as I do with Azmir again. I was completely drawn to him. Hopelessly. But I couldn’t let him cheat me, rob me of fidelity. Exclusivity. My heart couldn’t handle that. He couldn’t just lay me down and move on to a new conquest arbitrarily like my father had done to my mother all those years ago. I wouldn’t have it. I was an emotional yo-yo. I kept rolling optimism in and rolling it right back out.

  Though completely exhausted, emotionally and physically, I had a presentation to prepare for in San Diego. That of course, gave me the perfect escape from my despair. I don’t know where the inclination or the strength came from, but I found myself on my laptop, logging into my e-mail. My heart slammed in my chest when I saw a message from the attorney I’d hired to help negotiate visits with Erin. I hadn’t spent time with her since Michelle’s passing. I’ve called and texted Amber, but to no avail. She was making her message clear: I wasn’t welcomed in Erin’s world. Azmir offered his attorney, but I didn’t want to bust down Amber’s door with guns ablaze. The e-mail was to inform me that Amber had hired her own attorney, further demonstrating her resistance to my access to Erin.

  Life can be so cruel.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Azmir

  I was in an evening video conference meeting in Miami at the Fontainebleau. There was a failing company in Canada who wanted to discuss liquidation options. We conducted our meeting through a canvas screen, mounted to the wall. My partner, Robert, and I sat at a large conference table facing the projected screen.

  It had been a long day. I was hungry and absurdly exhausted. What I wouldn’t give to be home in my bed tonight. My mind had been running mad at Petey’s report of this clown ass attorney chasing Rayna’s ass—my ass. I was feeling mounds of guilt for having missed her show a few days ago. A part of me also felt like I had given Thompson’s ass an in. I didn’t think Rayna would go for it, but I also realized that I haven’t done much to secure her as mine. Yeah, I have her in the high-rise, but if I consider the amount of women I’ve fucked while they were living with their boyfriends and husbands, I’d be a fool to believe that her tripping out was impossible.

  All I could hear were Petey’s words of advice, “If you wanna lock a woman like Rayna down the last thing you need is to leave her for days, and sometimes weeks at a time. Snatch her ass off the market with a ring.”

  I’d already started considering marriage with Rayna prior to him broaching the subject. My only reservation was her wanting it. What Petey didn’t know was how difficult she can be with revealing her inner most feelings. She had been improving, especially now with her joining this church and learning about love and trust. We’ve come a long way and I didn’t want to push her over the edge. I appreciated her progress. What ever it took to get her to open up, I was game for.

  The church thing was a gamble because those Christians went hard about living together and having sex unmarried, but she hadn’t brought it up and I’ve been happy as hell about it. I loved having her with me. There’s nothing like coming home to a sexy ass woman every night. One that didn’t press you about the events of your day or complain about theirs. She was cool. But to a certain extent, a little too cool. Rayna had yet to express her desires for marriage or a future. I’d been quite confused.

  Either way, I had to man the hell up and take the leap. This clown ass Thompson had to be dealt with. There was no way that I was losing her to his sucka ass. I’m no fool. I understand she’s an
attractive woman and I’m not the only man who is attracted to her. But this dude was a known adversary. There’s nothing wrong with having a little competition to keep me on my toes. I’d fix his ass if he took it further though.

  This meeting was dry and I honestly didn’t want to be here. My partner took lead on it, but the Canadians wanted both buyers there. This is the part of this business I hated. Your organization is failing. We got the bread to bail you out. Give us a reasonable figure and keep it fucking moving! I’d been advised that this is simply how it is at the beginning. So I waited in complete boredom.

  I played around on my Mac-Pro notebook and checked my ever-abundant amount of e-mails. Then I saw that I had a video message from “RayChoppa.” I chuckled each time I saw that profile name. Why she chose it was beyond me, but it’s a testament to her humor. I must admit, I was completely thrilled at seeing this notification. Rayna had been throwing shade for nearly a week. It would be easy to say it was due to me missing the show on Saturday, but it started before then. Something was up, but there was so much that I could do from across the country. I slipped in one of my earpieces, not wanting her message being heard by my business associates. I was being rude, however I was also playing the role of bad cop this evening. So, fuck it.

  I hit play and the video loaded. Soon I saw the ever-beautiful and glowing Ms. Brimm with a head full of bouncy curls and a tastefully made-up face, hunched over at my side of the bed, appearing glum. Tamia’s Officially Missing You is playing loudly in the background. I know Tamia’s husband from around the way. I’ve also seen her live and was a little familiar with her work.

  But what the fuck is it with her and Tamia?

  This time her music didn’t work to my favor. She lip-synced the song as if she was shooting a video. Rayna looked…sad. I guess that’s what the message was all about. She was lonely. She wore my white tank T-shirt that fit her like a dress. From the clear view of her pebbled nipples I could see she wore no bra. My dick got hard. I looked around, making sure no one had a clue of my private and intimate show.

  Damn! Is she wearing panties? I gotta get the fuck home. Baby girl was lonely and apparently purring. Before I knew it, she sat up to end the video.

  Fuck!

  My mind started running a mile a minute. I had to get home. This shit could not go down like this. I felt like I was being caught with my pants down and ass in the air—fucking vulnerable! Rayna had gone AWOL on me emotionally a few days after I’d left her for this trip. Initially, I didn’t understand why. Our first Facetime session proved to be successful once I got my shit together. But almost right after that night she began distancing herself from me, not taking my calls and creating long response periods for my texts. Shit, I’d almost flew home, fearing something had happened to her.

  When I wasn’t able to make her dancing event, her moodiness didn’t let up. Shit, I knew it wasn’t that time of the month for her, I know her cycle well enough to know that she wasn’t menstruating. She finally let up last night when I called to check in and she answered. Our conversation was short, but I’d at least heard from her on first my attempt. This shit is driving me crazy.

  I checked the time. One thirty-nine a.m. I looked at the time stamp on the message. She left this an hour ago. I signaled my partner before stepping out of the hotel’s conference room.

  Answer the phone, Brimm…answer.

  She deeply inhaled, “Hello?” She was sleeping.

  “It’s early.”

  “Is it? I fell asleep looking over quarterly reports. What time is it?” I assumed she was turning to look at the clock. “Wow…it is early. I must be tired…or bored.”

  Damn. Suddenly, I feel that it’s my fault.

  “How was your day?”

  “I’ve been up since five this morning, training with Ty. Then work. Church. Nothing much to speak of.”

  “So we’re shortening his name now?” I scolded her about my personal trainer, Tyler, that I’d contracted for her a few weeks ago, per her request—or expressed interest, Rayna never asked for anything from me.

  Rayna said there were parts of her magnificent body that needed perfecting—something I didn’t agree with. Her body was sculpted perfectly, made just for me. However, it was my responsibility to give her the world and if that meant a couple of hours with my efficient trainer, it was nothing to expend. Tyler took her on. She was content. End of story.

  “Oh, Mr. Jacobs, please. He is not interested in me. He has enough eligible women swooning over him. Besides, I’ve got it bad for a man who works around the clock…and the world. When I’m training, I’m building my stamina for you,” she advised convincingly.

  Damn!

  I dipped my head backwards before pressing my forehead against a nearby wall. With eyes clenched, I vowed, “I got your video message. I’ll be home soon.”

  “I know…I know you’re busy, Azmir,” she murmured on an exhale. “I’m not trying to change who you are. I don’t expect you to end your career now that we’re…now that I’m living here.”

  She didn’t know how to label our relationship. Neither did I. I knew what I wanted it to be, but didn’t want to scare her away. I knew I had to handle Rayna with delicate hands.

  “What are you wearing?” I whispered, though I could give a fuck if I could be heard by passing patrons.

  She giggled softly. “You know what I’m wearing. I thought you got my message. I’m wearing you…and your favorite panties.”

  “Cheekies?” I quizzed.

  “In black…lace.”

  Fuck.

  I swallowed hard and in despair, murmured on an exasperated breath, “I’ll be home sooner than scheduled.” I was panicking inwardly. I had to fix this shit. I felt her slipping away. “Let’s go away in a week or so. Just me and you.” This was something I’d been thinking about since our return from New York. Now felt like the appropriate time to broach the subject.

  “I’d like that,” she sighed. “Just get here. I want to be where ever you are. Home just isn’t the same.”

  I take her words in. They torture me as much as pleasure me. I wasn’t used to that type of connection with a woman—hell…a person. I had to make this right.

  “I’m gonna do better, Brimm. I’m working on it. Be patient with me,” I pleaded through clenched teeth, suddenly feeling angry with myself. Attempting a relationship for anyone is difficult, but trying to walk a fine line considering my increasingly growing feelings for Rayna made the task that much more daunting.

  There’s a pause. A long pause. I wasn’t surprised by it; verbally expressing herself wasn’t Rayna’s strong suit.

  “I better go. Hopefully, they’re wrapping the meeting up as we speak.”

  Abruptly, she called out, “Azmir?”

  “Yeah,” I quickly responded, previously resolved to ending the conversation.

  “I love you.”

  What the hell did she just say?

  Another pause, but this one was brief.

  She exhaled deeply before saying, “I went to a counseling session with Pastor Edmondson tonight…interesting session.” She let a small wry chuckle escape. “Remember your question to me in Vegas a few days ago, about being in love?” I thought a minute, immediately recalling our exchange about how does one know they’re in love. She didn’t wait for me to answer before she continued, “I know I told you I was in love with you in The Bahamas. And that was true. But now I know that I love you…not just the way you make me feel, but who you are—your generous heart, your gentleness, your patience, your tenacity, your independence, your mind, even your solitude,” she informed, as her voice began to sound strained.

  This was all hard for her to share—that I did know. But I’d be damned if my body wasn’t reacting to the context of her message. She went on. “I love that you want to be with me…in my brokenness. I love you outside of what you do, and are able to do for me materialistically. I love you for more than what you can make my body do.” She snorted at that and
my dick twitched in response. “I’m in love with you and…man, I love you.” She exhaled long and deep.

  I was speechless.

  Suddenly, she ended with, “I need you to know this. There’s a difference between the two. I’ll love you even if this doesn’t work out…because who you are is who you are and…I love who you are. The true essence of Azmir Divine Jacobs.”

  Another pregnant pause.

  I was shocked beyond words. Perhaps this counseling shit was working after all. I couldn’t believe what my mind was attempting to process. I almost thought I was dreaming…or deep in another Rayna Brimm fantasy. Did she just say that she loved me and was in love with me? Rayna was the most frustrating and complex woman I’ve ever encountered. I’d had the most challenging days trying crack the treasure code, desperately trying to decipher her encryption. And in a matter of words—mere seconds, she exposed her treasure. Her heart. Suddenly, all things concerning our future was made clear. There was no need for further delay. I knew she was mine from our first date, but starting today, I will initiate plans to make her mine officially. Heart, body, mind, and fucking soul. She was mine.

  “Goodnight,” she sounded winded.

  A wide smile eclipsed my face. “That just exhausted you?”

  “In your infamous word: Indeed,” I snickered silently, split face, full on smile. “But it sure is liberating.”

  Rayna was forthcoming, but I could swear there was something more behind her decrees. I wouldn’t ruin the moment to ask what it was. I just wanted to revel in her candor.

  “Aye…” I called sternly, trying to command her attention. “I’ll be home—soon,” I declared.

  “Okay,” she murmured softly, with emotion behind her word.

  After my conversation with Rayna, I immediately called my assistant, Brett.

  “Yes, Mr. Jacobs, sir,” he answered somnolently.

  “Brett, I know it’s late, but I need a flight out of here as soon as possible tomorrow. I don’t care the expense. Hell—if you must charter a plane, do it. I need to be home in eighteen hours. Understood?”