by Alyse, Jade
ASHA
GUILT. She felt nothing but guilt. For years, she’d buried her nose in the affairs of the ridiculously handsome Brandon Greene and his obsession Natalie Chandler, to the point where she couldn’t see straight. And what exactly did it bring her? Nothing that she could call her own. She’d spent a good number of months focusing on other things. With her friends clear across the country, married, pregnant and so on, she had time to get her shit together: starting with her fucked up relationship with Scotland Lee Kelly. Dear God, she loved him. Even from the beginning. Their chemistry far surpassed anything she ever realized she could feel for another human being. And it only grew with time. Once she actually admitted her feelings toward him, the rest seemed easy. No longer did she have to worry about playing the field or talking shit just to get a rise out of men; she could go home to the same man each night, content, in love, and well-fucked. She and Scotty were easy once everything came to the light. She couldn’t see herself wanting anyone else.
But now she was thrust back into everything. In a cold ass hospital lobby in California, no less. Sitting crossed legged, looking up at Scotty pacing to and fro, she selfishly thought of a number of ways she could’ve spent the six hundred dollars round trip ticket to San Jose. Then, she immediately recanted her thoughts, realizing that they were nothing more than the archaic manifestation of her jealousy toward Natalie Chandler.
Yes, jealousy.
She could send her mind through all of the repressed issues she had toward her, but she needn’t bother. Natalie needed her right now. Brandon needed her more. She and Scotty were there for a reason.
“What the hell’s taking so long? And where is Brandon?” Scotty stopped just long enough to look at her, drop his arms at his sides and push his eyes outward like a bug.
“Scotland, come sit down, baby. Your pacing isn’t helping matters.”
“I can’t, Ash. Our best friend is in a hospital bed. Why aren’t you more concerned.”
“You don’t think I’m concerned?” Maybe the lack of sleep sucked all of the consideration out of her face. Maybe she should try harder to show that she gave a damn.
“I don’t know. You’ve been acting weird since we got here.”
“I’m fine. Why do you go get some coffee and I’ll go try to find Brandon? I’ll be back.”
Scotty didn’t respond. In all honesty, she hadn’t seen Brandon Greene since he had he was running to his car to grab a phone charger. That was almost an hour ago. Perhaps he didn’t want to admit what was happening to his wife, or what his two best friends had flown all the way across the country for.
This was the end. Of something.
Asha pondered this as she sauntered down a quiet corridor in the obstetrics wing.
“I wanted to come here to deliver our baby,” Brandon’d said over the phone. “Not this soon. Not for this. Not now.”
That thought alone made her ache.
And she was just reaching into her pocket for her cell phone to dial him again when someone caught her eye. Someone that looked familiar. She wrinkled her nose in his direction, squinting her eyes for a better view. Then, she parted her lips, momentarily speechless, as the audacity of such a visitor seemed otherworldly. “Bellamy?”
BRANDON
“I’M SORRY FOR YOUR LOSS, MR. GREENE.”
What exactly did that mean? And how was he supposed to feel? And what about Natalie? His wife? How was she supposed to feel?
“We did everything we could to try and save the baby. But your wife lost a lot of blood. We had to do what was necessary.”
What was necessary. He pondered this for awhile, sitting at his wife’s bedside, watching her sleep. The doctor’s had given her something to manage the pain, sedate her a little. All the while, he was trying to come up with ways to apologize...or show remorse without crumbling completely. How in the hell could they recover from this? What could they say to one another to make everything okay again?
He sloppily wiped a couple of tears away. Natalie stirred softly. She didn’t know yet, and he’d have to be the one to tell her. How could he bring himself to say something like that to her? He’d start by explaining how he’d been feeling the past few weeks: abandoned, angry, disillusioned, suspicious.
Something was different about his wife. She wasn’t the same Natalie Chandler who’d given him the ride of his life.
Something was different. And now it was all gone. Every little bit of it. Everything they’d built.
Another tear slid down his cheek, and he enveloped himself in the tragedy of it all. Their lives could’ve taken a different path - somewhere along the lines. Separately, maybe.
But they crossed somewhere, interwoven almost perfectly, seamlessly, faultlessly. And his obsession grew much bigger than he had the will to control.
He formulated the words in his head. And he made a vow to stand by his wife and his marriage no matter what.
He was a fighter, goddamnit. And he was in love. Still. Every fucking ounce of him.
Natalie stirred a little more, then she whimpered something. “B...B...B...”
He got to his feet, looming over her bed, reaching for her hand, watching her eyes open slowly. “I’m here,” he said. “I’m here, Tallie.”
She squeezed his hand a little, gazing up at him vacantly. “Hey, you.”
Another tear escaped his eye. “Hey, baby.”
Visibly swallowing, she cleared her throat and muttered, “You remembered that time I showed up at your twenty-first birthday party? I had no idea who you were.”
“Yea, I remember, baby.”
“You remember hitting me over the head with a beer bottle?”
He nodded, sniffling. “Of course I remember, Tal.”
“Don’t cry, Brandy, I’m fine.”
“Natalie...”
“I woke up that night and I saw your face. Your eyes. And I fell in love with you, Brandy. Did you know that?”
He shook his head, dumbfounded by her weakened elegance. “No, I didn’t, actually.”
She nodded meekly. “Mmm-hmm. That was the best day of my life, Brandon David Greene. And you never knew.”
NATALIE
IT ERUPTED OUT OF HER, the moment she set foot in their house in Portland. She even dropped to her knees, grasping at her belly to quell the emptiness.
Brandon grabbed at her as she howled and they both fell to the floor together. Reduced to a ball of entwined limbs and such, he held her there on the floor and rocked her back and forth, tightening around her, as the shrill of her mournful shrieks filled the quiet house.
She tried to wrap her mind around her husband’s words in the hospital.
“I wanted to be the one to tell you,” he’d said. “When you fell...you ruptured something...and the baby...it was a girl...our little girl...you...you lost a lot of blood...and the baby’s oxygen...I’m so sorry, Natalie...for all of it...I’m hurting, too...it just wasn’t meant to be.”
Wasn’t meant to be?
She carved out a cavern in her brain as her husband held her there on the floor, and crawled into it quietly. She would succumb to the distance again, embrace the vacancy, and try not to feel. She didn’t want to blame anything on anyone; they’d both done their dirt. And the tragedy of it all was that the death meant something so much more - she simply couldn’t bring herself to verbalize the words in the bounty of her tears. Shamelessly enough, she’d never really accepted her pregnancy. Sure, she looked in the mirror every morning and witnessed her protruding belly. Sure, she felt the baby kick ever so gently with anticipation of emancipation. Sure, she attended every doctor appointment, lamaze class and so on.
But...what conclusion was she trying to draw?
The illusion of the baby’s arrival miraculously saving her and her marriage had shattered with the strong flick of Brandon’s arm rejecting her affection.
What the hell did that mean?
One day, she imagined seeing Brandon’s eyes slapped on Harper Marie’s face and
realize her purpose all along.
But it was all gone now. Gone.
“We’ll make it through, baby,” Brandon whispered against her face. He was crying harder now. Soft, reluctant tears. “I promise you, we’ll make it through.”
She’d stopped crying. She simply stared into the gaping, empty space ahead of her, searching aimlessly for deeper emotion. The tangibility of feeling dangled right in front of her, taunting her, but she couldn’t reach it. It’d disappeared somewhere.
She’d never know what the baby looked like. She’d never know her laugh, or what made her tick, or whose personality she’d mimic.
She imagined that Harper would’ve fallen in love with her daddy - Brandon Greene was an easy person to love. And he would’ve protected her. Obsessively so.
And her mama and grandma would’ve spoiled her rotten. Harper would’ve been almost intolerable.
And Harper’s aunts would’ve bought her all of the latest gadgets and clothes, talked boys and kissing inappropriately, taken her to movies or skating or something her mama wouldn’t dare know about.
Perhaps these wishful memories had been stored in her head all along. Desirous nostalgia too far out to be real.
Harper Marie Greene would never exist, now.
And why? Why did she have to be the one? How did she deserve such an involuntary fate?
She gazed up at Brandon through tear-smeared eyes. And he gazed back. She studied his face, shifting her eyes from one side to the next. They loved each other once, didn’t they?
It was an unexpected, amorous occurrence, that she quickly realized in retrospect had been written in the stars all along.
And they didn’t make much sense together. Never did.
They brought out the absolute worst in each other, sometimes.
But they really loved each other, didn’t they?
Their meeting was the catalyst, she figured. If she’d never gone to that fucking birthday party all of those years ago, desperate for change, curiosity propelling her, then maybe, just maybe, their lives could’ve been spared. And maybe Harper’s too. She and Brandon would’ve gone along with the paths already laid out for them, separately, surely: she would’ve become to doctor she’d always dreamed of being, and he would’ve married Sophia Baldwin, all identities spared and intact.
All too often, youth dictates, compounds and demands more of their lives than they want it to. Emotions and revelations shattered in the blink of the eye, all for the sake of pleasing the heart.
What the fuck did it all mean?
“We’re stronger than this, Tallie,” he whispered against her face. “Just you and I.”
For the first time in years, she didn’t believe him.
She knew what she had to do.
BRANDON & NATALIE
“GO,” SHE SAID. “GO BACK. I PROMISE I’LL BE OKAY.”
He stared at her longingly. It had been a few weeks, now. Belly shrunken, shoulders narrowed and fifteen pounds lighter, she looked dramatically different. Summer was coming around again, and the loss still seemed surreal somehow.
She stood in their bedroom in front of him, holding onto his hands. Her skin felt thinner against his. She tried for an earnest gaze into his eyes, he could see her effort. But he didn’t believe it.
“No,” he replied calmly. “I’m staying here. With you.”
She shook her head. “It’s time, don’t you think? It’s time to move on. We have to start rebuilding again.”
The robotic dissonance in her voice made him ache, but he took a deep breath anyway. “I won’t go. I’m not ready.”
“Yes, you are. We both are. I promise.”
The faulty, inconsistent and rattled emotions inside of him could have blamed her for a number of things the past few days; namely, the dark and almost unforgivable way of pretending as though the baby had never existed. Sauntering around the house in sort of a daze, teetering from one side of reality to the less unrealistic. And where the hell did he fit in? Had she forgotten that the baby was a part of him, too? Did she care?
Still, he remained silent outwardly, screaming inwardly, pleading for relief, contrarily finding it difficult, that in spite of all of their emotional disparity, they still managed to draw themselves closer to one another in all of this.
And that was something worth praying for.
Natalie sensed his hesitancy. “Brandy...I’m fine. If I’m not, I have your number. I just want to sleep. And I may even be inclined to call Zuly and invite her to lunch. She’s been calling me incessantly.”
He sighed. “Fine.” He reached for his briefcase, but something inside of him kept telling him not to leave. “Don’t forget that Scotty and Asha are flying in tonight. And my parents are...”
“I’m not ready to tell them yet. I’m not ready, you hear me?”
He nodded. “I get it, baby.”
“Good.” She arched her feet upward, leaned toward him, and kissed his lips slowly. Then, the side of his jaw, his nose, his forehead, his head, settling on a gentle tug of his bottom lip. “I love you, Brandon Greene. I will always love you. You know that, don’t you?”
He nodded. “Of course I do, Tallie.”
She kissed him again. “Never forget it, please.”
Then, she ushered him out the front door and into his car.
ALL THROUGH THE DAY, HIS COWORKERS ASKED HIM IF HE WAS OKAY, IF HIS WIFE WAS OKAY; he didn’t know what to tell them. And he damn sure didn’t know what work meant to him anymore.
Gazing down at the framed photo of his wife on his desk, he grasped at it a little, felt his throat swell, and just as a tear brimmed his eye, Penelope entered the room. “Hi.”
He cleared his throat. “Penny, hi.”
“Is this a bad time?”
He got to his feet, running his sweaty palms down the sides of his jeans. “What do you need?”
“The question is, what do you need?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m just so sorry about your wife,” she said. “I’m just so sorry.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“Is there anything I can do to help? Is there anything I can do to make it easier?”
He thought about what mattered most to him and to his wife - and the conclusion seemed easy. “Yes...there’s something you can do. Get me a first class flight to Atlanta, Georgia. For two. There’s some things that I need to handle.”
IN AN HOUR, HE WAS HEADING HOME EARLY. TO HELL WITH WHAT HIS WIFE SAID: SHE NEEDED HIM. He made plans in his head to take her into his arms, swing her around a little, then explain to her what he’d done. He had a plan. A good plan. He knew what needed to happen.
Natalie would protest him a little. She might even kick and scream. But he knew what was best for both of them.
He tumbled into the house, yelling her name with exuberance. No answer. He went up the stairs and back down them. Nothing.
He picked up his phone, dialed her number. Nothing.
He went back up into their bedroom to find the bed neatly made. The entire space smelled of fresh linen. And on her nightstand, just in the between the picture of her family and a picture of him and her in college, was a long, white sheet of paper that hadn’t been there this morning. There were words on it in her hand.
Initially dismissing it as nothing more than a grocery list, he started to walk off, but something stopped him, propelling him to pick up the piece of paper and scan his eyes over it.
Brandon -
It’s difficult to write this. There are so many things that I want to say. And I’m not sure that you’ll understand any of it. But rest assured I’ve loved you more than I’ve ever loved myself. Or anyone else, for that matter. Breathing without you in proximity often becomes difficult, and it’s a dependency that I’ve not only relied on, but have felt crippled by as well.
Please, understand me, baby. Our history proves far greater than anything I’ve deserved or could have conjured up.
But a time
for change has come...
You said once that “we don’t chose who we love...it just sort of happens”. And I completely agree with you. Somehow, you meet someone, and your lives become so tightly intertwined that you can’t imagine what it was like without them - good or bad.
And I’ve somehow convinced myself that I’ve kept you from being the person that you were meant to be - strong, willing, independent and loved by someone who deserves you.
I guess that’s what it all boils down to - I never deserved you. I don’t blame you for any of this - and I pray to God that one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.
I’m setting you free. I’m allowing you to become the person you were always meant to be.
This is where our love story ends, Brandy.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Admittedly, I'm not a very expressive person. Outwardly, I project an aloof, cool and caterer disposition. And I've never been very good at showing gratitude when it's due. But let me take a moment to thank those who have stood by me and supported me when I deserved it least; who offered their help when I proudly refused it; who made me laugh, embraced me or otherwise when I felt like crying, dropping to my knees and giving up. You have no idea how much I love and cherish you. None of this would've have been possible without you. You all know who you are.
From the bottom of my heart, Thank You.
Table of Contents
SKIN LIKE DAWN
Copyright
Dedication
PASSING TIME, MAYA ANGELOU
Brandy
KISS THE SKY
ALWAYS TALLIE
WALK, CRAWL, LIE
A PLAN
HELEN COMES TO VISIT
BIRDCAGE
MATEO
MELEE
BRANDON
NATALIE
THE GARDEN PARTY
BELLAMY
THE FRUIT
ESME & THE ACQUIESCENCE
JUST LIKE THE WATER
ZEN
RIGHT AT THE CORE
TOUCH
THE MANSION