Strange Addiction

by Alexis Nicole

  “Do you still come here yourself and make some things?”

  “Absolutely. I come here mostly at night, when everyone is at home. That’s when I feel most creative. I think it’s this view,” he said, pointing to the massive window. “The city’s skyline gives me a lot of inspiration. Sometimes I stay here till dawn, just to watch the sun rise.”

  He walked over to this big machine and turned it on. It took a little minute for it to crank up, and it hummed loudly. “This is Darcy. She’s the first machine I bought when I was eighteen. She was made eighteen-ninety-two.” He started turning some handle that made a part of the machine move in circles.

  “Darcy? As in Darcy Phillips from high school.” I laughed. Donovan had named his first machine after his first girlfriend. He and Darcy had dated in the tenth grade, for all of three months. He was so in love with that girl, but she broke his heart when she went off with Stevie Quimby.

  “Let’s not start with the jokes.” He cranked the machine, and I sat down on a nearby stool.

  I was fascinated as I watched him work, going back and forth, blowing out the glass into different shapes. It took thirty minutes to create one beautiful drinking glass. He set it aside to let it rest for a while, and then he took me to the roof of the building. There were chairs waiting for us, along with a wine and cheese basket.

  “I loved watching you work. Wow, you really love what you do,” I told him.

  He nodded, and I looked toward the downtown skyline, trying to remember the passion I’d had for writing. It had been so long since I had written anything more than a thank-you card. And though I’d missed writing before, I didn’t realize how much until I watched Donavan today.

  “You know how it is when you love something,” he said. “Your passion is who you are.”

  My spirits dropped even more when he said that. He was right; my passion for journalism was who I used to be. But I’d traded in my love for writing for my love for King.

  “Donny,” I said suddenly, “I’m pregnant.” The words came out of me in a desperate attempt to change the subject. But as soon as I’d made that confession, I regretted it.

  His eyes got big, then small, then big again. “Wow. Congratulations,” he said with mixed emotions in his voice. Glancing down at my stomach, he asked, “How far along are you?”

  “Almost seventeen weeks now.”

  We sat in an awkward silence for a moment. It was obvious neither one of us knew what to say next. Why in the world had I let that slip out?

  He leaned forward, getting closer to me. “Are you happy?” he asked, looking deeply into my eyes.

  There was that question again.

  He said, “I mean, are you happy about this? Is this what you want?”

  I stared back at him, and I could tell that he wanted me to say something, give him some kind of sign that said, “Rescue me.” But I couldn’t give him that.

  “You’ve asked me that before, and I can honestly say that I am. I never thought I wanted children until now.”

  Donovan didn’t look away. It was as if he felt that if he could stare me down, he could break me down. But finally, surprisingly, he gave me a smile. “Well, then, I’m happy for you. I think you’ll make a wonderful mother.” He hugged me like he never wanted to let me go.

  It was comforting to know that I still had his support.

  “Do you have anywhere you need to go?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Do you want to stay up here and watch the sunset? I’m telling you, it’s one of the most beautiful sights.”

  “I’d love to.”

  “Okay, let me go downstairs and get you something to drink,” he said, “since you can’t have this.” He took the bottle of wine from the basket. “I’ll be right back.”

  He returned with a bottle of sparkling cider. We didn’t say much. Just sipped and snacked on the cheese and crackers. And then, just like he promised, I had a front row seat to one of the most beautiful sights as the sun bowed in the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with every color in the rainbow.

  Finally, Donovan walked me down to my car, and just as I was getting in, he handed me the shopping bag he’d been carrying.

  “What’s this?”

  “The glass I made earlier.”

  “Oh my God,” I said, pulling it out of the bag. “This is beautiful.” Looking up at him, I added, “You know that I’ll cherish this forever.”

  It was another wonderful day with Donovan, and by the time I got home and went to bed, I didn’t even want to call King. I didn’t want to risk catching him in the wrong place or at the wrong time and upsetting him.

  So I texted Donovan to let him know that I’d made it home and to thank him again for such a beautiful day. I shut off my phone before he could respond and closed my eyes.

  I didn’t shut off my phone often, but tonight I wanted uninterrupted sleep and dreams filled with the beauty of my day.

  Chapter 22

  The screams were ringing in my ears. I was pinned on the floor by the security guard who had tackled me from behind. It was all a blur to me, and all I could do was stare at King’s lifeless body. The pool of blood that surrounded him grew bigger by the moment. His eyes were glazed over as they stared blankly back at me. I was emotionless as the chaos swirled around me.

  Suddenly two men pulled me from the floor and . . .

  My eyes popped open, and like always, I was shivering in my own sweat. What was up with this dream that just wouldn’t go away?

  I wiped my face with my hands and let my eyes get adjusted to the light. And then I screamed!

  King was standing there, posing in the doorway.

  “Baby, you scared me.” I held my chest, wondering if I was going to have to push my heart back inside. “How long have you been here?”

  Even though we had spoken, he’d never said that he was coming home.

  “Only about five minutes,” he said a little dryly, especially considering that he had been away for weeks. He gave me a peck on my forehead, then shrugged his jacket from his shoulders and headed toward the bathroom.

  Wow! Weeks had passed, and that was the best he could do? I would’ve thought he would be happier to see me. Would ask how I was, how was the baby, would tell me about his trip.

  But that was all I got, a little kiss on my forehead.

  What was up with that?

  It wasn’t like we had talked all that much while he was away, and the few conversations we’d had were so short. He needed to do better than this.

  I jumped out of bed and stepped out of my nightgown. Maybe he was tired. Maybe I needed to make the effort and go to him.

  King was already in the shower when I stepped into the bathroom, and I opened the shower door and slipped in behind him. He jumped at first, as if I’d shocked him, even though we often took showers together.

  But then he relaxed as I rinsed off the remaining soap he had on his back and kissed him on his shoulder. He turned around and looked me in my eyes. I smiled and prepped myself for a kiss. Instead, he opened the shower door and stepped out, leaving me just standing there, with my lips puckered, looking like a fool.

  What was going on? Didn’t he miss me? Or had he been away so long that we were back in that old place before I’d gotten pregnant?

  I finished showering, and by the time I got back to the bedroom, King was already halfway dressed. I tiptoed around him and went into my closet. As I dressed, I tried to figure out what I was going to say to King.

  “So how was everything?” I asked when I came out of my closet.

  He shrugged. “Everything was cool.” His answer was quick and emotionless.

  I wanted more. I wanted to hear about what happened. Where he went, what he did, the interviews that he had, the people that he saw.

  And I wanted to know what had happened to the sweet, caring, loving guy who had left home. I had imagined the day when he’d return. I saw him crawling into the bed with me, rubbing my belly while he ta
lked to our unborn child.

  “Well, maybe we can go have breakfast and you can tell me all about it.” I sat on the bed and waited for his response as he buttoned up his shirt, then slipped into his shoes.

  “Naw, I’m about to go.”

  “What?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He had just got home, and now he was leaving? What was this? Just a pit stop? “You just came in. Where are you going?”

  “Out.” With that simple answer, he walked out of our room and disappeared downstairs.

  Was he kidding me? I wanted to run after him and stop him, but my legs wouldn’t move. Actually, I couldn’t get any part of me to move. I was in shock.

  When the front door opened, then closed, I was still sitting in the middle of our bed, in disbelief. Slowly, I lay down and stared at the ceiling. I was there, in the same place, for over an hour after he left.

  Finally I sat up. King owed me more than this. Grabbing my cell, I dialed his number but kept getting his voice mail.

  Now, I was so hurt by this. What was wrong? I needed to talk this through with someone. I needed my friend. I called Blair, knowing that she would be a good supporting ear, but her cell phone number was disconnected.

  I pulled the phone away from my ear when I heard that recording. Why was her phone disconnected? If she had changed her number, why didn’t she call me to give me the new one?

  Well, if Blair wasn’t there, I needed someone else. And I dialed the number to my last choice—Donovan. If there was anyone who could cheer me up, it would be him. And I didn’t have to tell him everything that was going on.

  So I dialed his number, but the call went straight to voice mail too.

  It felt like a conspiracy, and I was desperate to talk to someone. But there was no one else. I couldn’t call my parents, not after I had tried so hard to convince them that I was in pure bliss. My momma would’ve said only one thing, “I told you so.”

  This was what being alone felt like. Alone and neglected. I curled up into a ball on the bed and closed my eyes. Hours later I woke to the sounds of laughter. At first I thought I’d accidentally hit the remote and turned on the television, but the bedroom was silent. Glancing at the clock, I was shocked to see that it was almost six o’clock. I had slept the day away, but I guess that was what you did when you were depressed.

  Pushing myself from the bed, I rubbed my eyes, then grabbed my cell to call King. But then I heard laughter again, and this time the splash of water. I couldn’t see the pool from our bedroom, so I was surprised that I could even hear that sound. The door to the backyard must’ve been opened.

  As I dashed down the stairs, I wondered if I should grab a knife or something for protection, just in case it was a robber who had decided to take a swim in our pool. But when I got to the back door, I couldn’t believe my eyes. King was finally home. But this time he had friends with him. Two women. Who wore bikini bottoms, but no tops. All three were splashing around as if they were kids. The women were hugging on King and kissing him like they were making a rap video.

  My body grew hot with rage. This had to be a dream. No, a nightmare, because there was no way on this green earth that King would disrespect me, his pregnant girl, to this magnitude. I pinched myself, just for good measure, because I knew I was awake. And with each passing moment, I became angrier.

  I stepped outside and stomped toward the pool. “What the hell is going on here?”

  King looked up and so did the women, but not a one of them seemed surprised to see me. Nor did they seem to care that I was there. Not even King. He didn’t get out of the water. He didn’t push the women away. He did nothing but stare at me, as if he couldn’t figure out why I was messing up his party.

  “Maybe I wasn’t clear!” I screamed. “This party’s over. You two need to get your clothes on and get the hell out of my house.” The only thing that kept me from jumping into that pool and snatching both of those heifers out of the water was this child inside of me. But now I wished that I had grabbed that knife.

  The women began to move to the edge of the pool, but King motioned for them to stay. He hopped out, grabbed me by my arm, and dragged me toward our house.

  “Your house, huh?” he whispered before he flung me inside. “What bills you pay around here?” Now that he was inside, he was screaming.

  “What is wrong with you?” I screamed back, giving as good as I was getting. “You’re gone for weeks, you come in today and barely say anything to me, and then you show up back here with those whores!” I was in his face, yelling, at this point. I had never jumped at him like this before, but this was ridiculous. This was major disrespect . . . and in my own house. After I’d given everything to this man.

  Nothing prepared me for the sting of the back of his right hand on my cheek. I stumbled back and grabbed my face at the same time. My eyes were wide with disbelief. This man had hit me. And my tears were instant.

  “Who do you think you are, huh?” he yelled. “All of this I gave you. If it wasn’t for me, you would still be a know-nothing assistant at a second-rate magazine. I gave you this life, and I make the rules.”

  I took several steps back from him, not knowing who this man was.

  “You better learn how to play the game, or you’ll get cut from the team.”

  I stood frozen for a moment, still not believing any of this. Finally, I said, “I can’t believe you would treat the mother of your unborn child like this.” My voice was low; my tone, defeated.

  He glared at me, looking me up and down, as I continued to cry in the middle of our kitchen. When I said nothing more, he turned away and walked back to the pool.

  I watched as he jumped back into the pool. Once again, the girls were all over him, and I stood there, in the middle of the kitchen, in complete humiliation.

  I ran upstairs, dashed into my closet, and started throwing clothes on the bed. I had no place to go, but there was no way I was going to stay in this house. I was dizzy from all the thoughts running through my head. How could this be happening to me? I wondered as I stomped back and forth from the closet to the bedroom.

  The ringing of my cell phone startled me. Stopped me dead in my packing tracks.

  “Heiress, hey. I’m sorry I missed your call earlier. It was ridiculous at the store today. I hope I’m not calling too late.”

  Donovan! The sound of his voice was so comforting, so calming. But I said nothing.

  “Heiress? Are you there?”

  “Yes,” I finally said. I tried to keep my voice from quivering. I really didn’t want Donovan to know that I’d been crying.

  “Is everything okay? You sound upset.”

  I guess there was no way for me to hide it. He knew me all too well. Plus, I needed him now. He was my God-sent angel.

  “Donny, is it okay if I come over to your place?”

  I could hear the frown in his voice, but all he said was, “Sure. Definitely.” A pause, and then he added, “It’s not too much for you to make the drive tonight?”

  “It’s fine with me if it’s fine with you.” I needed some comfort, and Donovan was the perfect person to give it tome.

  “You know you can come over anytime.”

  I blew out a sigh of relief and quickly grabbed something to write his address down. I packed up the rest of the clothes I had on the bed and headed out the door. I didn’t even bother to see where King was or what he was doing. He clearly had no concern for me, so I drove to the only person in my life that I was sure, right now, did care.

  Chapter 23

  As I finished the story, I watched Donovan’s facial expressions. In the twenty minutes that it had taken to tell him everything, I’d watch his face go through every emotion: surprise, then shock, then hurt, then anger. It was like seeing everything that I was going through play out on his face.

  “Why have you put up with this fool for so long?” he said as he brought me a plate of hot wings, a biscuit, and a cup of tea.

  My stomach growled. With everything
that had happened today, it wasn’t until I got to Donovan’s house that I realized I hadn’t eaten a thing all day. I was grateful for Donovan: for him, his place, and this food.

  “So why have you stayed with him this long?” he asked.

  “Because I know he isn’t really this horrible person.” I was very hurt, but I couldn’t forget all that King had done for me. Even though his words were meant to cut my heart, they were true: he had given me a life that I had never dreamed of. I told myself, Think about it. Without King, would I have any of it? I was living in a beautiful house, driving luxury cars, going to celebrity parties, and traveling. I could buy anything that I wanted. I had a man and a life that other women envied.

  “Heiress, no matter what, you don’t deserve to be treated like this. No matter what he’s given you.”

  Donovan sat next to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I stopped eating and laid my head on his shoulder. A tear fell from my eye, and he held me tighter.

  “I want to have this baby and be a family, Donny.”

  I wanted him to tell me that everything would be okay and that this was nothing more than one bad night. I needed that validation.

  But I wasn’t going to get those words out of him. He thought King was a fool, and I knew he was holding back other names for him. I was just glad that Donovan could hold me at this time. His arm tightened around me, and he rocked me, as if he was trying to give me comfort by just letting me know he was near.

  After a few minutes of silence, he lifted my head up and looked deeply into my eyes.

  “Heiress, you have to figure out what’s best for you. Honestly, do you think this baby will make everything better?”

  A month ago, a day ago, the answer to that question would have been yes. But then King had come home. Now I wasn’t sure if we could ever get back to where we were, especially after what happened today.

  “Honestly, I don’t know, but is it crazy for me to want to try and see?”

  The way Donovan sighed let me know that he was disappointed in my answer. I knew he was contemplating what he needed to say now.

  “Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to.”