Seems Like You're Ready: BWWM Romance

by Heather Rae

  “You don’t understand how things are,” he began his explanation.

  I nodded but I didn’t listen to a word of it. Dre was on a different path in life than I. That night was proof of it. It was time I made myself believe it rather than just think of it.

  As much as I wanted to leave right then and there, I couldn’t. I had no place to go, no family to turn to, and I refused to involve Shaylah or Dre’s mother, as much as I loved her. They had listened to me cry over Dre more times than enough, but I didn’t want Dre to make their lives a living hell; so I planned while our fights and arguments came regularly.

  I began taking on the task of couponing. Dre made fun of me saying we had more than enough money to spend, but I claimed it as a fun hobby. I compared all the sales papers and did the shopping based off the store sales. I always talked about how much I was able to save, trying to make it sound more entertaining than it was. What I was actually trying to do was spend as little as I possibly could so that I could pocket as much money as possible.

  Dre was away from home more often than he was there, so I spent the time scouring the newspapers for apartments and possible work. I had yet to find any jobs but I did come across an ad for an apartment located in the city. The area listed was considered the safer side and claimed to be a “short walking distance to stores, local businesses, and attractions”. I called and inquired, then set up an appointment to view the place on the following Monday.

  Friday Dre had been “checking on some things”. Some point along the way, Dre had taken my advice and invested some money into property. An apartment complex had fallen into hard times; the owners had put every unit up for sale because they could no longer manage. Dre had purchased half of them and hired someone to do some rehabbing. Luckily he had them to shield some of his illegal activities. I assumed he was going to drop by on some of the tenants considering it was the end of the month, not that I cared one way or the other what he was doing.

  I was due to pick KD up from Sylvia’s around 5pm. The house was already clean. I had two loads of laundry in the washer and dryer and my roast was cooking in the crock pot. Since I had nothing but time on my hands, I curled up on the couch with a new novel: A tale of a broken woman who eventually finds love. Yeah, ok.

  I quickly became engrossed in the story. It gave me hope that maybe one day I’d be happy, though not likely. The telephone rang, interrupting my thoughts. “Hello.”

  “Hi. How are you Nikkia?”

  I had no idea whom the purring female voice belonged to, but I was certain it was not a friend of mine.

  “I am well.”

  “Really? Do you know who this is?”

  “Nope, and honestly I don’t care.” I wasn’t lying.

  “I’m Tameika.”

  “And what can I help you with Tameika? Are you calling for Dre? Because he’s not here,” I said emotionless and closed my book.

  “Oh no, I know exactly where Dre is; as a matter of fact, he’s headed home to you. After fucking half the day away, he went with me to a doctor’s appointment.”

  I could practically see the smile on her face through the telephone.

  “Well, I hope everything went well.” I so did not care.

  “The results are pending but I’m quite sure they will come back positive. I know without a doubt that Dre is my baby’s daddy.”

  “If you are hoping to upset me, Tameika, it isn’t going to happen. I’m beyond numb to any of the hoes Dre keeps. I could care less. But if you hope to make him your man you just might want to rethink that.”

  “You some uppity, think you better than me, bitch.”

  “No. I am someone that feels bad for someone like you. Go look in the mirror. If you’re his creep and I’m his woman, chances are pretty good he will do you the same as me.”

  “Bitch, Dre loves me!”

  I shook my head as I walked into the kitchen. From the fridge I pulled out a bottle of wine, popped the cork and took a long drink from the bottle.

  “Yeah, he tells me the same thing, and he probably does in his own twisted way,” I said walking through the house.

  “We’re going to be a family! He’s going to put you out, and then what bitch?! I’ll be sleeping in your bed.”

  “Go right ahead, honey. Have a good evening and go fuck yourself.”

  I ended the call and sat the phone down on the table in the foyer. I went upstairs into the bedroom, pulled out a duffle bag from the back of the walk-in closet and began to fill it. By the time I heard Dre’s car pull into the gravel driveway I had polished off the bottle of wine. I stood looking down at the front door and waited for Dre to step over the threshold.

  The empty wine bottle shattered at his feet. His head snapped up.

  “What the FUCK Nikkia?!”

  “Hi, honey. While you were gone today one of your hoes called,” I smiled. “We had a lovely conversation about you being a skilled lover and possibly having another child. And how was your day?”

  I struggled to lift the duffle bag and sent it sailing over the bannister. Most of his clothes had spilled out on the trip down, fluttering to the floor below. I didn’t care how angry he looked as he took the stairs two by two. I wasn’t fazed by his snarl or flaring nostrils.

  I wasn’t a woman scorned. I had simply had all I could take. I no longer cared.

  “Iswearfogawd, Nikkia! I ain’t playin’ witcho ass!” Dre said as his fist shot out.

  I hit the floor of course. He was a man, bigger and much stronger than me, but at that point I didn’t give a damn. I rolled to my knees and slowly got to my feet. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

  “You can get the fuck up outta my house, Dre,” I hissed through my teeth.

  “The fuck YOU say? Bitch, I run this shit!” Again his fist plowed into my face. “I paid for this muthafucka, not you!” Again.

  Oh no, it would take a lot more before I let him win, which came rather quickly. The fifth hit he landed pushed me towards the staircase and down I tumbled. When I lost momentum at the end of the stairs, my left wrist was in a very unnatural and painful position. I knew right away it was broken, as did Dre.

  The entire ride to the hospital he cursed me out because he knew one of the first questions I’d be asked was related to the nature of my injuries. My response? Silence. The emergency room staff had asked Dre to exit the room while they had worked on my arm.

  “Can I have a minute alone?” I had asked.

  They agreed and stepped out of the cubical. I carefully jumped down off the stretcher and went to the mirror above the sink to look at myself. Yeah, it was going to take a lot of make-up to cover this shit up. I struggled to keep the tears at bay. This was not love and this was not healthy. I was done with exhausting my energies on someone who had no respect for me. I could no longer go on living like this.

  I denied any issues at home to the medical staff, and it was obvious they did not believe me. From the ER, Dre had called his mother to let her know we had an emergency and that Kiandre would have to spend the night. My hand was reset; thank goodness no surgery had been required. I was fitted in a lovely fiberglass cast that was sure to drive me insane after a few days, medicated, and given a script for some narcotics to help with pain.

  The drive home with Dre was rather quiet; deafening actually. I stared out the window and said nothing as he concentrated on the road before us. Even when he pulled up to the house I said nothing.

  “You know, I think I’m gonna take that bag and stay away for a night or two,” Dre said as he followed me inside.

  “Just be sure to lock the door on your way out,” I muttered and climbed the stairs.

  “Nik?”

  “Good night, Dre.”

  I didn’t look back at all. I closed myself off in the bedroom, locked the door, and planned my departure from Dre Carter’s life. He made it rather easy for me considering he stayed away the entire weekend. I called once on Saturday, left him a message and never received a re
turn call from him.

  Sunday morning I skipped my normal tea and brewed myself a huge pot of coffee. I scrambled up some egg whites and toasted two slices of wheat bread. After breakfast, I washed the dishes, packed every piece of clothing and toy animal Kiandre owned, and stuffed everything into the trunk of my car.

  After a refill of coffee, I went to work in my own closet. As I contemplated the material possessions I had accumulated, I realized I didn’t really care what I packed. I dragged the two large Louis Vuitton suitcases out, set them out on the bed and began to fill them with necessary clothing: my jeans, shirts, a few shorts and jogging sets, a couple of dresses and pantsuits, pajamas and underwear, shoes, two photo albums and scrapbooks.

  Once I dragged those down to my car, I tossed a week’s worth of clothes into the overnight bag, along with my toiletries and makeup, a zippered case containing some jewelry, wallet, and the two hidden envelopes I had kept tucked away. I sat at the desk and composed a letter for Dre then slung the bag over my shoulder and headed for the front door.

  I paused in the foyer and propped the letter on the small table so that it would be the first thing he laid eyes on whenever he did decide to return home. I slipped the ring off of my finger and set it down next to the gold key. Head held high, I walked out of my house.

  I never once looked back at the beautiful home I had shared with Dre. As the gravel spun out beneath my tires, I never hesitated a glance in the rearview mirror. I felt able to breathe fully as I drove towards Dre’s mother’s house. Tears rolled down her cheeks as I strapped Kiandre into her car seat.

  “You know I love you, baby,” Sylvia had said and hugged me tightly.

  “I know. I’ll call you when I can, I just need a few days,” I said and kissed her cheek.

  I loved Dre from the moment we first met. The last thing I wanted to do was give up. To me, it was yet another failure I was adding to my life’s resume. But Dre and I had gone down separate paths. As much as I loved him, I had to let him go. Our relationship had become unhealthy and quite frankly, I loved myself AND our daughter far more than I loved him.

  I drove across town and stopped at Seven/Eleven to fill up my gas tank. On a whim, I placed a call on the payphone.

  “Hello, Mrs. Campbell? This is Nikkia Miles. I am supposed to view the unit you have tomorrow. I was wondering if it would be possible to take a look at it today. I have an emergency and have to go out of town for a few days.” I listened for a moment then smiled for the first time in days. “Great. I will see you in about 10 minutes then. Thank you so much.”

  The Campbell’s were such sweet people. The wife had boasted that they had been married for 40 years. The husband referred lovingly to her as his battle-axe. They were in their 60s, rounding out and hair completely gray yet still full of life and love. I’m sure part of their banter had been for my benefit. Lord knows I looked a hot mess.

  “Do you think you could hold the apartment for a few days while I decide?” I asked, praying they would agree.

  “Sure, honey!” Mr. Campbell smiled and punched the button for the elevator.

  “I tell you what, Nikkia, when you get back to town come see us. We’ll work something out with you,” Mrs. Campbell said and patted my shoulder, tears in her eyes.

  “You don’t…I mean…”

  “We’ll put a hold on it. Drop by when you get back.” Mr. Campbell grinned and held the elevator doors open.

  As I pointed my car north, I felt some of the stress I’d been carrying leave my body. The weight of the world evaporated from my shoulders and I could breathe easy again. It was the best feeling I had had in a long time.

  I drove up into the mountains, about an hour from the city. I found a small motel, tiny cabins actually, that claimed vacancy. I paid cash for a three-night stay. The man at the desk had given me a brochure with a variety of things to do in the area as he handed me my key. I circled around to the middle unit, parked so that I was facing out, and then went inside with Kiandre for a few days of peace.

  ~~5~~

  The Campbells had been great to me since I returned from my mountain getaway. As promised, I went by to see them and the apartment. They told me initially that they needed to do some work with the place, minor repairs, but they did have another unit available; one that may have suited me a little bit better, they had said.

  The unit that I was standing in had new carpets and flooring, new cabinets and brand new appliances. There was a second bedroom, smaller than the first, for Kiandre. Furnished all the way down to dishes and cookware, the fridge and pantry was stocked full of staple items. Private access led out to a small patio encased by a high concrete wall.

  “I…” I was speechless.

  “I think this apartment is a better choice for you and your daughter,” Mr. Campbell smiled.

  “This is too much,” I replied softly. “You don’t even know me.”

  “Everyone needs a little help sometimes,” Mrs. Campbell said quietly and turned her attention to Kiandre. “Ain’t that right, sweetie?”

  The Campbells refused to take a deposit or first month’s rent from me. They claimed I needed every penny I had. They did agree to a mutual agreement toward the end of the month, which I felt they were taking a loss. I understood they were trying to help me but I didn’t understand why.

  It wasn’t until I had a conversation with Mr. Campbell that I understood. Turns out the couple had lost their daughter to a man that hurt her. When she attempted to leave him, he killed her. Beat her to death. She had no support at the time; no one to defend her and no one to step in.

  I laid across the bed later that night, grateful to these strangers and sad for the pain that weighed heavy on their hearts. I let the tears burn my face for the last time.

  Two weeks passed, and the job search had yielded nothing. Everyone required some type of past experience or degree. I flipped through the want ads of a fresh newspaper, highlighter in hand. I had managed to save a decent amount of money, eight grand, which would hold us over for some time. If it came down to the wire, I could always pawn the bag of jewelry that I had hidden in one of my shoes.

  I tossed the paper aside, rubbed my temples, and fixed a mug of tea. Since I had the makings of a migraine, I might as well go for full-fledged. I picked up the phone and punched in the numbers.

  “’Lo, this is Dre.”

  “You sound busy. Maybe I should call you back later,” I said evenly.

  “Bitch, where the fuck is my daughter?!” Dre shouted in my ear.

  “She’s sleeping right now, but she is fine.”

  “And the two of you better be bringin’ your ass’s home!”

  “No, Dre, we won’t. I’m done. Didn’t you read my note?” I leaned back against the sofa and closed my eyes.

  “That bullshit?! ~I’ll call you in a few days, Dre. What we’re doing is too much, Dre. You hurt me Dre. I can’t be with you any more Dre…~ that’s all some bullshit, Nikkia! You betta bring your ass on home!” His voice mocked me.

  “I can’t do that, Dre,” I replied firmly.

  “The hell you can’t!” He spat back.

  “Our relationship is volatile. You clearly put your hands on me and caused injury, whether intentional or not. I can’t subject Kiandre to that.” I exhaled. “And I won’t.”

  “You are not gonna leave me! You’re not gonna take my daughter away from me!”

  “And you said you would never hurt me, Dre, but you did. You can see Kiandre anytime you want, at your mother’s house.”

  “You don’t run this shit, bitch! You don’t tell me what to do! You’re still my damn woman!” He was pissed. I didn’t care though.

  “You can DO whatever you want. I just choose not to be a part of it. And since you wanna go there, I haven’t been your woman in a long time.”

  “So you’re just walking away from everything? From me?”

  “Yes I am. Goodbye, Dre.”

  I hung up the telephone calm, head pounding, but not a single
tear was shed.

  I had had several calls from Dre, begging me to come back. A tiny piece of my heart wanted to give him a chance, but I’d already given him two, three, or four. Another one would not change him. So when he had started down that road, I hung up the telephone. The only thing we needed to discuss was our daughter.

  Co-parenting was extremely difficult to accomplish when the parents could barely manage to be civil. His mother tended to side with me, which angered Dre even more. I was beyond tired, so I decided to avoid him as much as possible. Sylvia would call me with specific days to bring Kiandre over and I would ready a bag and load her up. Sylvia always had a cup of tea waiting for me, as well as some conversation, and then I’d go about my way until I’d pick her back up. I just wanted Kiandre to know love and not see the nonsense between mother and father.

  I came across an insert that had been stuffed into my mailbox; a cleaning company looking for help. I shrugged, flipped through the rest of the junk mail then went back to the advertisement. I picked up the phone and gave them a call. Couldn’t hurt to try, I thought to myself. I was thrilled when I hung up the phone; they had given me an interview for the next day. It surely wasn’t what I had hoped to be doing with my life but it was no doubt better than nothing.

  Walking home the next day I had passed by a vocational school. Since I was on an emotional high at having been hired on the spot for the cleaning company, I entered the school to see what types of programs they were offering. When I came out two hours later, I was enrolled in their cosmetology program and had registered Kiandre for their day-care. Again, I was feeling blessed.

  My days and nights were busy. I was in class from 11-3 Monday through Thursday. My evenings were spent studying. The program was a far cry from medical school but I always had a fascination with hairstyling; plus it would give me a certification in little time. My shift with the cleaners started at 5pm. Because of school, I worked Thursday through Saturday. Mrs. Campbell offered to babysit Kiandre on Saturday evenings; her own grandchildren lived out of state and she adored Kiandre. Sylvia usually picked her up from school on Thursday and kept her until Saturday morning.