Until My Heart Stops Beating

by Tonya M Barber

  Sighing, Makeba responded, “No.”

  Mrs. Jones stood. “There you have it then. Forgive him and move on from this and when you do forgive him, please don’t hold it over his head. Let it go. It won’t do your relationship any good to harp on it, trust me on that. Picking at old scars only creates a new wound. Nobody’s perfect in this world. You will find that when you put people up on a pedestal they're going to fall short of your expectations every time. With that being said, if you’re going to love him, you have to love all of him, shortcomings and all. Now nobody is saying that you’re supposed to make it easy for him but don’t be so hard that it costs you something you may live to regret later.”

  She looked at her mom lovingly. “Thank you mommy. I love you.”

  “I love you more baby.”

  Mrs. Jones stood up to leave. Suddenly, she eyed her daughter.

  “What is it mom?”

  “Please don’t attribute this type of behavior to a specific race. That way of thinking helps no one. Furthermore, it would break my heart if I thought you were adopting your father’s mentality.”

  “Never.”

  “I sure hope not.”

  They engaged in a tight embrace before Mrs. Jones left her daughter to ponder over her words of wisdom.

  ~*~

  The next night Makeba was really stressed. Deciding the only way to get her troubles off her mind was to go out and have a good time. She called Marcella and then Rasheeda informing them that she would be accompanying them to the Cuban Club, the same club she refused to go to the previous night.

  They arrived at the club at approximately 10:30 pm. It was a good idea to come early because they were able to find a table in the far right corner. After taking their seats Marcella told them the first round was on her. She took their beverage orders and headed to the bar leaving Rasheeda and Makeba to survey the establishment, admire the décor and relish in the ambiance as they swayed to the addictive rhythmic beat of Latin jams.

  A short time later, Marcella retuned to the table placing their drinks in front of them. They sipped while they talked over the loud music. Makeba’s phone vibrated but she sent the call to voicemail. Knowing very well who it was without looking at it, she promised she’d call Declan back later because at that moment she couldn’t resist the temptation of getting on the dance floor any longer.

  Rasheeda and Marcella looked on from afar smiling. It was good to see their friend enjoying herself after being in a funk for the last couple of weeks. It didn’t take long before they were joined by two very handsome men offering to buy them drinks. They accepted the offer moving over allowing them to join them. They chatted, getting to know each other and was already making plans to meet up again. So engrossed in the company and the conversations they were having they did not realize how much time had passed. Looking around, Marcella tried to locate Makeba who had been missing in action damn near all night.

  “Oh my God,” said Marcella after locating her friend.

  “What?” Inquired Rasheeda.

  She pointed to her left.

  “What in the hell?”

  Rasheeda raised her neck to get a better look. What surprised her was not that Makeba was dancing, no, it was how she allowed a tall, handsome, and sexy stud to grind up against her.

  “Ultima llamada por alcol,” announced the bartender.

  Rasheeda leaned over the table. “What the hell did he just announce?”

  Marcella guffawed. “He said last call for alcohol.”

  Rasheeda bent over in laughter. “Well, I couldn’t take another one if I tried. I think I had one too many.”

  “Neither can I. Thank God we have a designated driver.”

  Glancing in Makeba’s direction, Rasheeda said, “No we don’t either.”

  “Why?”

  She watched as her friend stumbled, bumping into a table trying to make her way over to the bar. She nodded her head in Makeba’s direction. “That’s why.”

  Marcella chuckled. “She is wasted.”

  “No fucking kidding Sherlock.”

  They sent the men away but not before exchanging numbers and promising to call them soon. Suddenly, a light went off in Rasheeda’s head.

  As if she could read minds Marcella asked, “What?”

  “Throw me Makeba’s purse.”

  “For what? What are you going to do?”

  “Throw me the damn pocketbook. Clearly, Marcella had annoyed her.

  Marcella snatched the purse off the seat next to her and handed it to Rasheeda under the table. She powered on Makeba’s cell phone. There was a security lock on it but she didn’t fret. She knew the code. On several occasions she had to answer it for Makeba when she received calls at work during the times when she was busy taking care of customers. She punched in the four digit code then clicked on contacts finding exactly what she was looking for, Declan’s number. She texted him telling him where they were and made sure to add directions on how to get there. It wouldn’t be hard to find because it was another spot located in downtown Newark, not far from the hotel he was staying at. He returned the text, thanking her for her help and informed her that he was on his way.

  Returning the phone to Makeba's purse Rasheeda smiled as she gave it back to Marcella so that she could put it back where she got it from. Marcella eyed her inquisitively. She shrugged her shoulders but didn’t say a word. Whatever questions Marcella had would not be answered. She would just have to wait and see how things turned out. Inwardly she prayed that by the time Declan arrived her friend would no longer be dancing against the wall with the Cuban stud like she’s filming a scene in Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights.

  They continued to sip on the last of their drinks. A few minutes later Rasheeda glanced over at Makeba once more and shook her head. She had a fresh drink in her hand. Her back was against the wall while Mr. Cuban pressed against the front of her. He leaned in whispering in her ear. Whatever it was that he said made her chuckle.

  “Let me go and get this girl before her man walks through that door.”

  Marcella's eyes widened. “That’s who you were texting?”

  “Yes.”

  Marcella looked over Rasheeda’s shoulders. “Well, too late now.”

  “What?”

  “He’s already here.”

  “Awe shit.’

  At that moment Rasheeda wished she could have been invisible. Her intention was to have Makeba sitting at the table when he walked in but it was too late. She didn’t move fast enough. Apparently, she underestimated the time it would take him to reach the club.

  Marcella jumped up. “Let me try to stall him while you get Makeba.”

  “Cool.” Rasheeda hurried off to get her friend.

  Marcella trotted toward Declan. He smiled at the sight of her, happy that he didn’t have to search the entire club to find them. Before she could reach him she observed the sudden change in his expression. That fast his smile turned to anger. She turned her head in the direction of where he was looking. He had found Makeba and it wasn’t a pretty sight he was looking at. Rasheeda hadn’t gotten to her in time.

  Fuming, he rushed to the area where he spotted her. He pushed the Cuban guy away as he pulled her from against the wall.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snapped glaring at her.

  The Cuban guy caught his balance and threw a punch at Declan. He blocked it then hit him with one of his own to the midsection. The guy bent over at the waist coughing. Quickly, he regained his composure and charged at Declan landing a blow to his chin. He stumbled on impact.

  “Declan, stop!”

  Ignoring her cries, he swung a right then a left hitting his opponent, knocking him to the floor. The bouncers rushed through the crowd and separated the two men. Marcella and Rasheeda looked on in shock at the precision and skills Declan possessed. He fought like he had been a trained boxer.

  “Damn Marcella, he put that ass to bed.”

  “It’s not funny Rasheeda.”<
br />
  Makeba ran out of the club. Declan, on the other hand. was escorted out by three burly security guards who informed him that he was no longer welcome at the establishment ever again.

  He chuckled. “You’re doing me a favor.”

  The bouncers pushed him away from the front door before going back inside the club.

  Marcella and Rasheeda spotted their friend walking towards the parking lot and ran after her. Declan followed suit.

  “Makeba.”

  Ignoring the fact that he called her name, she kept on walking, increasing her speed.

  “Makeba, wait! Rasheeda yelled.

  “To hell with all of you.”

  “C’mon Keba, wait,” added Marcella.

  Sick of her childish behavior, Declan ran behind her. He grabbed her by the arm and swung her around. “What the hell did you think you were doing in there?”

  Dodging away from him, she continued to walk towards her car. He hurried behind, this time gripping both her arms tightly so she couldn’t break free.

  “What was that?” He was so mad he could have shook the life out of her. “I walk in the club to find my fiancé drunk, standing against the wall with some fucking pervert damn near between her legs. What explanation could you possibly give me to make me understand what you were thinking?”

  “Get off me,” she spat.

  She tried to pull away but she couldn’t. Angry that he wouldn’t release her, she began to shout expletives and call him as many derogatory names as she could think of. She hadn’t been this upset with anybody in a long time.

  “Stop it,’ he yelled shaking her.

  “Shit is getting real,” stated Rasheeda.

  “This is all your fault. You should have never texted him. You stuck your nose where it didn’t belong making the situation worse than it was.”

  “Shut the hell up Marcella. I was only trying to help.”

  Marcella folded her arms across her chest. “If this is your way of helping, promise me you’ll never help me. You’ve made a mess of things.”

  “Bullshit! I didn’t know she’d be hemmed up against the wall letting some guy rub up against the goodies. She was drunk.”

  “Whatever Rasheeda. Standing here arguing is doing nothing for the situation at hand,” Marcella exclaimed angrily.

  Rasheeda rolled her eyes. She was so heated she wanted to knock the mess out of Marcella but she knew she was only mad because Marcella called her on her crap. Yes, she had stuck her nose in something that was not her business in an effort to help and it backfired.

  Rasheeda and Marcella approached Makeba and Declan.

  “How did you guys get here?” he asked.

  Knowing full well it was Rasheeda that revealed their whereabouts, Makeba eyed her like she was dead meat.

  Feeling the heat of her friend’s glare, she turned away and replied, "We rode with Makeba."

  “Fine. I’ll drop you guys off.” He turned his attention to Makeba. “Where are your keys?”

  She frowned. He must have lost his damn mind. He wasn’t getting her keys. There was no way she was riding in the same car with any of them. That’s what she was thinking anyway.

  Aggravated, he sighed, slowly turning his head to face her. Through gritted teeth he asked, “Where are your keys?”

  Silence.

  Angrily he reached towards her forcibly taking her purse out of her hand, and retrieved her keys. “I’m so sick of playing this damn game with you.”

  He hit the alarm unlocking the doors so the ladies could get in the car, they did, except for Makeba. He held the handle of the passenger side, opened the door and waited for her to enter. Instead, she walked away.

  “I’ll be right back,” he told the other ladies as he ran behind Makeba.

  The ladies stared out the back window observing the commotion going on between Declan and Makeba. In no time they witnessed him pulling her back to the car.

  “Get in or I’ll put you in,” he snapped standing behind her.

  She looked at him and what she saw in his eyes gave her a chill. They were dark and filled with anger. Right then and there she knew he was at his wits end with her and her shenanigans. She got in the car and remained silent until she realized that after he dropped her friends off, he was driving in a direction away from her house.

  SECOND CHANCE

  The next morning Makeba woke up feeling sore all over. She recalled tussling with Declan even after they made it up to the suite. The more he declined to take her home, the angrier she became. Many attempts were made to escape but to no avail. He wouldn’t allow her to. Eventually she gave up the fight, laid across the bed, and fell asleep.

  Feeling a little hungover, she crawled out of bed. Slowly and carefully she sauntered to the living room where she observed Declan sitting on the sofa working on his laptop. Holding onto the wall, she descended the two steps separating the rooms. Her head was pounding, the room appeared to be spinning, while her stomach did cartwheels threatening to let everything she put into her system the night before spill forth. Suddenly, the sides of her mouth began to water. She could feel it coming. Turning on her heels, she ran to the bathroom hoping she’d make it to the toilet in time. She got down on her knees as she raised the seat and hurled until there was nothing left to throw up.

  Hearing her, Declan ran to the bathroom. Peeking inside, he saw her on her knees crying as she hugged the commode. Immediately he turned on the cold water, obtained a wash cloth from the rack, held it under the running water, then after ringing out the excess, pressed it against her forehead. Moments later she got up and sat on the edge of the tub.

  “Quite a night you had last night, huh?” He continued to hold the washcloth to her head.

  “Yes.”

  He ran the washcloth under the water again, rang it out, and wiped her face. Afterwards she stood trying to steady herself. Seeing her stumble, he quickly caught her around the waist. She wanted so badly to push him away, get her things and go home but she was in no condition to leave.

  Declan moved her over to the toilet as he started the shower. Gently, he removed her clothes. There was no sense in resisting. In her condition there was no win. Instead, she complied with all that was asked of her. Once she was completely naked he helped her into the shower. Slowly he washed her up, dried her off and escorted her back to the bedroom. Pulling back the covers, he waited patiently for her to crawl underneath them. She thanked him then turned on her side. After hearing him call room service and order soup, tea, ginger ale, an antacid, all the things she needed to help her with her hangover, her heart softened.

  Declan hung up the phone and crawled into bed beside her, cradling her in his arms.

  “You hurt me,” she mumbled.

  “What?”

  “You hurt me.”

  Sighing deeply, he squeezed her tight. “I know, and I promise to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I swear.” He looked deep into her eyes as his watered. “I would never intentionally hurt you. You have to believe that.”

  Silence.

  “Baby, I’m scared and I have never been scared of anything in my whole life. I’m scared of losing you. If I do, my heart might as well stop beating.”

  For the first time in weeks, Makeba was able to witness the depths of the love he had for her. In that moment, she had no doubts she was loved by this man. There was no way she could live without him. He was a necessity for her survival. Crying, she nestled her face in his chest.

  “I love you Declan.”

  “I love you more.”

  Declan jumped when he heard the knock on the door. He glanced down at her smiling. That fast she was deep in a drunken slumber. Carefully, he inched out of bed trying not to disturb her. He answered the door and stepped to the side allowing the room service attendant to enter. After rolling the serving cart inside, he accepted his tip and left. Declan locked the door behind him. He remembered that he had the engagement ring inside his computer bag. Once he retrieved it, he re
turned to the bedroom, lifted her hand and slipped the ring back on her finger. Right back where it belongs, he thought as he returned to the living room.

  ~*~

  He sat as a thousand thoughts ran through his mind. Being away from her was becoming more and more difficult to deal with. Declan loved Chicago. It was home, the place where he was born and raised, a place where his family still resides and the thought of ever leaving made him cringe but he knew his future wife felt the same way about Newark, New Jersey. For a long time he pondered over ways they could rectify the situation in a way they both could be happy.

  After much consideration Declan decided the only way to keep them both happy was to take up residence in both states. Feeling as though he had solved an enigma that seemed unsolvable, he was anxious for her to wake up so that he could tell her what he decided, hoping she’d agree.

  Makeba woke up wondering why she was in bed alone. Glancing at the window, she knew it was late. Easing out of bed she walked to the living room. Declan was stretched out on the sofa. He looked so uncomfortable that she couldn’t bring herself to leave him there. It took a few times but she was finally able to wake him up. Turning off the television, she grabbed his hand and escorted him to the bedroom. Just as she was about to crawl under the cover, he said, “Take a shower with me.”

  Chuckling, she replied, “I thought you were sleepy.”

  “I am but I would like to shower before getting into bed.”

  She thought about it for a few then obliged him. After showering and changing into their pajamas they crawled into bed. Declan conversed with Makeba about getting a place to stay in Jersey. Just as he had hoped, she was happy about it. He told her to find an apartment, preferably a loft in the downtown area. She agreed. They held each other tight until they drifted off into a deep sleep.

  For days Makeba had been attending open houses, dragging Rasheeda along. On days Rasheeda couldn’t make it, she’d bring Marcella along. On a few occasions even her mother tagged along. After looking at over twenty apartments, she finally came found one she liked. It was a loft on West Kinney and Broad Street, a perfect location. It was so close to The Serenity Hotel, Declan could walk to work. All she had to do was wait for him to see it so that she could give the owner a deposit. The only problem with that was, he wasn’t due to return to Jersey for another week. Believing there was another way to have him see the apartment as if he was right there, Makeba convinced the landlord to allow her to record as they did another walk through. He obliged her. Later that evening she uploaded the recording to her computer and sent it via email to Declan. Pleased by what he saw, he skyped her telling her how great of a job she had done and informed her that the money for the deposit, food and furniture had been deposited into her account. She wished that he could be with her when she picked out the furnishings. He assured her that he would be happy with whatever she chose and that as long as he was with her, he would have been happy lying on a bed made cardboard.