Love Frustration

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Love Frustration Page 24

by RM Johnson


  “You want to get together?” he said, sounding a little too excited, not taking it the way Asha intended on him taking it.

  “Yeah, Gill.”

  “Want to go out to dinner?”

  “No. Not out to dinner. I’ll just meet you at your place.”

  “Want me to pick you up?”

  “No. I’ll just meet you at your place,” Asha said again, in the same bland tone.

  “This isn’t nothing bad, is it?”

  Asha didn’t want to lie to him, but what was she going to say. Of course, it is, Gill. I’m coming over there to spit in your face, give you back your ring, and walk out of your life forever.

  “No, Gill. It’s nothing bad. I just want to see you,” Asha lied, not needing to get into all of that this moment.

  Asha didn’t use the key to Gill’s place he had given her only six months into their relationship. She rang the buzzer. She didn’t want him to think that things were just as usual. She wanted him to feel that things were different, that they had something to discuss the moment she walked in the door. Asha hadn’t changed out of the torn jeans and oversized T-shirt she’d put on right after she got out of bed. She didn’t do her hair, didn’t even shower. She wanted to look as unattractive as possible, so when she did break the news to him, he would look at her and think to himself, humph, she’s not that much of a loss anyway.

  “Asha. What are you doing down there?” Gill said, his voice coming through the intercom, knowing it was her, because Asha was sure he was looking at her through the tiny camera that pointed down at her. “Why didn’t you use your key?”

  “Can you just buzz me up, Gill,” Asha said, looking into the camera.

  A second later, the buzzer sounded, and Asha pulled the door open.

  When she stepped off the elevator, Gill was smiling, waiting at the open door, looking as though he’d dressed just for this occasion, wearing nice linen slacks, and a beautiful loose-fitting cotton short-sleeved shirt.

  “Hey, Suga’,” Gill said, his arms open wide for a hug. Asha moved into his embrace, allowing herself to be hugged, but making no effort to return his affection. After he was finished, she stepped back from him. Gill looked at her.

  “We definitely aren’t going out to dinner, I see,” he said, commenting on her attire.

  “Sorry, but my sequin gown is in the cleaners,” Asha said, walking past Gill into his condo, and standing in the center of his living room.

  He followed her in, closing the door behind him. “Is there a problem, Asha?”

  Yeah, there’s a damn problem, Asha wanted to say. I’m mad as hell that I have to come over here and tell you that I care nothing for you anymore, that I don’t want to see you again, when all you did was love me, treat me like a queen, and attempt to devote your life to me. That’s my fucking problem. But all she said was “I just have something on my mind.”

  “Then tell me what it is, baby,” Gill said, rushing over to her, taking her hands in his, looking as though he was willing to do whatever was in his power to solve her problem.

  “Gill, no,” Asha said, pulling her hands away from him.

  “No, what?” Gill said, looking at her strangely.

  “It’s just that you’re always so caring, always so willing to sacrifice anything for me, and—”

  “And that’s bad?”

  “No. It just makes it harder to …” Asha stopped speaking, walked away from him, toward the couch, then behind it, dragging a single finger across the top of it. Gill watched her, a bewildered look on his face, until she stopped and faced him again.

  “Harder to what, Asha?” Gill said, and he looked like he was holding his breath while he waited for her answer.

  How could she save his feelings? Asha thought to herself. How could she spare him from the pain she felt she was about to inflict on him? And even if it could just be by a little bit, she would do whatever it took, because he didn’t deserve this. She knew lying to him would only cause him more harm. She also knew by lying to him, she’d be continuing to lie to herself, and she had accepted who she was by now. She would just tell him the truth. The whole truth.

  “Harder to do what, Asha?” Gill asked again, walking over toward her, but stopping a few feet from her, when Asha took a step back.

  “Harder to …” Asha said, starting to twist the engagement ring on her left hand, “… harder to let you go, Gill.”

  Gill looked as though what was just said to him was incomprehensible, as though he didn’t understand a word of it.

  “I … I … I don’t know what you’re saying to me. Let me go. What do you mean?”

  “Gill, don’t make this harder than it already is. I can’t be with you anymore. I can’t marry you,” Asha said, looking directly into Gill’s eyes.

  He held her stare for a moment, then had to look away, saying, “No. I can’t accept that, Asha. No. I just can’t accept that.”

  “I’m sorry, Gill, but you’re going to have to,” Asha said softly, painfully watching as Gill paced about in front of her, his hands clutching his head. “I can’t,” he said.

  “You have to.”

  “But I can’t!” Gill said, raising his voice, rushing back toward Asha. Asha jumped, surprised, because it was the first time Gill had ever raised his voice to her, ever threatened her in any way. He backed away from her, realizing that she was scared.

  “Why, Asha? Just tell me why,” he said, lowering his voice, taking a less threatening stance. “What have I done wrong?”

  “You haven’t done anything wrong. This has nothing to do with you.”

  “How could it have nothing to do with me. You’re telling me that you’re leaving me. We’re getting married, Asha. You’ve met my parents. I’ve been looking at houses. We’re getting married, and you just one day come here and tell me that none of that matters, that none of it’s going to happen. You have to tell me why. You have to give me a goddamn reason why.”

  “I just changed my mind,” Asha said.

  “No!” Gill said, grabbing her by the arms. “A real reason!”

  “You don’t want the real reason.”

  “Why? Are you cheating on me?”

  “No?”

  “Is it another man?”

  “No,” Asha said.

  “Then what the hell is it?”

  “I told you. You don’t want …”

  “Just tell me, dammit!” Gill yelled.

  “It’s another woman!” Asha said, raising her voice over Gill’s.

  He was stunned. Asha could tell by the dead look on his face. His arms went limp and fell from her body. He staggered two steps backward away from her, shaking his head, a look of grief so intense on his face, it made Asha want to cry.

  “I don’t believe you,” he said, his eyes seeming to focus on something deep in his mind, like the possibility of what she said being true. “I just don’t.”

  “I’m sorry, Gill.”

  “What? Are you friends? Are you just attracted to her. I’m sure it’s something that’ll—”

  “I love her, Gill. I’ve been with her, and I love her. I’m so sorry, but I can’t marry you knowing this about myself.”

  Gill stumbled back another few steps. “What? Did you just wake up one day last week, and you were gay?”

  “No, Gill. I’ve known for a while, but I’ve never acted on it till now.”

  “How long is a while?” Gill said, hesitating to look up at Asha.

  “For years.”

  Gill’s eyes opened wide. “Before me? All the while we were together, you knew this, and you never told me?”

  “Gill, I’m sorry,” Asha said, moving toward him to comfort him, but he leaned away from her, threw up his arms a bit as if fearing her touch.

  “You knew how I felt about you, how much I loved you, the plans I had for us, and even though you knew this, knew you could never marry me, you allowed me to keep on thinking that we would be together?”

  “Gill, I never meant to
hurt you,” Asha said, still trying to touch him, trying to ease his pain some.

  “What did you think would happen? How did you think I would take this?”

  “Gill, I’m so sorry.”

  “Get the fuck out!” Gill said, pointing toward the door.

  “Gill, let’s talk about this,” Asha said, extending her arms out to him.

  “I said, get the fuck out, Asha. I don’t ever want to see your ass again. You hear me!” he said, yelling.

  Asha gave him a long look, searching his eyes, trying to make sure that he really meant what he was saying. His eyes meant every word he had just screamed. Asha dropped her eyes, knowing there was nothing else she could say, nothing else she could do. She walked sadly toward the door.

  “Asha,” Gill called to her. Asha quickly spun around.

  “Give me back my ring.”

  Asha twisted the ring off her finger, and started to walk it over to him.

  “No. Just place it there on the table,” Gill said. “I don’t want you near me.”

  Asha did what she was told, then left.

  31

  After I told Asha to leave, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Was it the right thing to do, I kept asking myself, threatening to turn back around, walk down those stairs, and tell her to forget it. “You can stay,” I could say to her. “Just don’t ever speak to me again. And when you have to pay the rent, just slip it under the door.”

  No, that wouldn’t work. I’d done the right thing. We were supposed to be friends, best friends, and she’d lied to me. She lied to me for as long as we’d known each other, and considering that I had just been hurt by someone who was supposed to have loved me and lied to me, I had no tolerance for anyone else doing the same thing.

  So again, there I was, back in my place, sitting on the sofa with nothing to do. I’d had my fiancée taken away from me, and had thrown away my best friend, and now I had no one.

  I tried to think about someone whom I could call, someone I could talk to, someone I would want to talk to at a time like this, but no one came to mind. I thought some more, and then I remembered Lottie, Gary’s wife. Yeah, it was wrong for me to think of her at a time like this, but I was sure we shared a little something special that time I spoke to her. Besides, she was beautiful, and Gary had spent time with my future wife, so it would only be fair for me to return the favor with his present one.

  All of a sudden I was kind of excited. I jumped in the shower, threw on some clean clothes, nothing special, jeans and a pullover top, and headed out. It took me only about twenty minutes to get there, for I was driving a little faster than I normally did, excited to see her again. Why? I didn’t know. It was foolish for me even to think the way I was thinking. This woman was married to the man who supposedly was going to marry my exfiancée, but still I was looking forward to seeing her. I just wanted to talk to her again.

  There was a Jewel food store on the way to her house, and I pulled into the parking lot and cut off my engine. I did that for two reasons. One, because I was starving and needed an apple or something, since I’d been unable to eat anything in light of what happened earlier. And two, because it just dawned on me: How was I going to initiate seeing Lottie again? Was I crazy enough to think that I could just walk up to her door, ring the bell, and tell her something crazy like, “I was just thinking about you, and thought I’d drop by.” She’d look at me like I was trying to rob the place, slam the door in my face, and call the police.

  I walked into the grocery store, went over to the produce section, picked out a couple of apples, dropped them into a plastic bag, and headed over toward a small coffee café that was attached to the store. As I walked, I continued to think about how I could bump into her. I could just slowly circle around her block, passing in front of her house until I see her step out to go somewhere, to get the mail or something. Then I could stop my car, and yell out the window, smiling, “Hey, funny seeing you again as I was just passing by.” Yeah, right, Jayson. Funny seeing her in front of her own house, after I drove around it a hundred times like a maniac psychopath. That wouldn’t work at all.

  I walked up to the counter, asked for a large vanilla coffee, and a bran muffin. I paid the girl, and moments later she gave me my order. I turned around looking for a place to sit, when I saw a woman sitting at a corner table, a trashy romance novel held up in front of her face.

  I walked over to the table, stood in front of it for a second, and then said, “Lottie?”

  The woman lowered the book, and it was indeed her. She took a second to recognize me, then that beautiful, gleaming smile appeared across her face.

  “Jay Atkins, right?”

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s right,” I said, happy that she remembered the phony name I had given her, because I sure as hell hadn’t.

  “What are you doing over here?” I asked her.

  “Sometimes I come here for coffee, and to escape to a world of love, romance, and mystery,” she said, sarcastically, holding the novel, with the big-breasted woman, and bare-chested man on the cover, up for me to see. “But I should be asking you. What are you doing over here?”

  “Oh …” I said, not ready for that question. “Um, just coming back from my friend Max’s house, and was hungry and thought I’d stop to get a muffin and some fruit.” I held up my bag of apples for her to see.

  “Well, you can join me if you’d like. Nothing’s going to happen in this book that I don’t already know will happen.”

  I happily pulled out the chair in front of her, and sat down. I set my bag of apples, my muffin, and my coffee on the table, and looked up at Lottie, smiling.

  “Why are you smiling?” she asked me.

  “You’re smiling too,” I said, a little bashful that I was smiling.

  “Yeah, I know why I’m smiling, but I asked you why you’re smiling.”

  “You tell me, then I’ll tell you,” I said.

  “Well, promise you won’t laugh or think I’m socially deprived or something, but I thought the little conversation we had was nice, and as you left my house, I was thinking that he would be a nice guy to have as a friend. But I knew I would never see you again, but now, here you are. That’s why I’m smiling. I guess I’m glad to see you, Jay Atkins.”

  “You know, that’s the exact same reason I’m smiling, Lottie Robinson.”

  “Get out of here,” she said, waving a hand at me, blushing.

  “No, I’m serious. It’s weird, because I kind of feel like I already know you.”

  “Hey, me too. That is weird.”

  “Maybe we met in a previous life.”

  “Did you meet any African queens in your previous lives, because I’ve always been a queen,” she said.

  “I don’t think so, but I think I’m meeting one now,” and right after I said that, I wished I could’ve taken it back, because her smile disappeared from her face, and there was an awkward, silent moment. We looked at each other, as if wondering just what to do with the comment I’d made, and then she burst out with an embarrassed grin, lightly swatted my hand, and said, “Oh, you go on. You’re just the bigtime, handsome, smooth flirter guy.”

  “Au contraire,” I said. “If you only knew how bad my luck is with women.”

  “Yeah, I bet you tell them all that. But that stuff won’t work on me, because I’m married.”

  “Darn!” I said, joking. “You wouldn’t mind if I practiced on you though, would you? Telling you how beautiful you are, you know, stuff like that?”

  Lottie smiled slyly and said, “I really shouldn’t. But since I never get it at home, and it’s just practice, go ahead and knock yourself out.”

  Lottie and I sat at that table until it was time for her to go pick up her kids from school. We had wonderful conversation for a little more than two hours, and standing outside her Volvo station wagon, she said, sadly, “It’s a shame that we just met now that I’m moving soon. You would’ve really been a good friend to have.”

  “I feel the
same way about you.”

  “I’m glad,” Lottie said, smiling kindly. “It’s been a pleasure knowing you, Jay Atkins.”

  “And you as well, Lottie Robinson,” I said, extending a hand to her. She looked down at it, as if to say, Don’t you know women don’t shake or give dap, we hug, silly. She moved forward, threw her arms around me, and gave me a tight hug. I hugged her back.

  “Don’t tell anybody this, or I’ll deny it. But if I weren’t married, you’d be in serious trouble,” she said, squeezing me tighter with the remark.

  I smiled, thinking that if I were going after what I truly deserved, you’d be the one in serious trouble, but I just said, “You are so sweet for saying that.”

  When I made it back to my place, I fumbled with the keys in my pocket, trying to get them out in a hurry and get the front door open, because the phone was ringing. I finally got it open, ran to the phone, and snapped it up.

  “Hello?”

  There was no answer, only silence, and just when I was about to say something again, a voice said, “Hello, Jayson.” It was Faith.

  I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know why she was calling me, thought this was some sort of mistake, but I said, “Yeah. This is me.”

  “How have you been?”

  “What kind of question is that?” I snapped.

  “Look, Jayson. I’m just trying to make contact, all right. Don’t bite my head off just—”

  “Just because what? Just because I caught you screwing some guy days before we were supposed to get married,” I said, angrily.

  “Jayson, will you hold on a minute,” Faith pleaded.

  “What?” I was breathing hard, gripping the phone like it was Faith’s neck. I wanted to squeeze it till it snapped, I was so mad.

  “I’ve been thinking, and I called to apologize. I called to apologize for you having to have to see that.”

  “I see. You apologize for me seeing it, but not for doing it. That’s just like you, Faith.”

  “I apologize for everything. I’m sorry that things had to work out the way they did.”

  “They didn’t have to. We could’ve worked things out. I told you that.”

 

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