Diego could, too, more than he already did. She had wanted him to.
Taneesha put her hands to her face and sighed. The scrape of Bobby’s fork over the plate was the only sound until she glanced at him to huff. “All-wise brother.”
“Yes?”
She narrowed her gaze on him and hoped she could discern the truth. “Why are you so invested in me and Diego?”
“All your other exes were dumb and they didn’t take care of you. His colossal, chickenshit mistake aside—”
Taneesha sensed Bobby making excuses and stiffened her body to protest all over again.
“I’m acknowledging the mistake, T,” Bobby said hurriedly. “He is wrong. You are right. There’s no doubt about that, okay?”
Taneesha relaxed her shoulders and settled back into her chair.
“His colossal chickenshit mistake aside,” Bobby said, eyeing her hard, “he could be the one guy I’ve met who deserves you.” He added with a smile, “Poor bastard. I don’t think he knows how much of a force of nature you can be.”
“But you believe he’s a good guy?”
“When he’s not shoving his foot down his throat to his belly button, yeah. I should have given him the five foolproof steps to being woke.”
Taneesha had to laugh. She’d heard his foolproof steps. “One through three is don’t be a Hotep.”
“Since he’s not a black man only worried about himself, he just needed the last two steps.”
Taneesha could only shake her head at her brother. “For that I’m not doing an Infamous 2 walkthrough for you.”
He cleared what was left on his plate with a few bites. “That was the Trojan horse to get into your house.”
That didn’t surprise her. Bobby was nothing if not predictable. She pushed her plate away, no longer hungry. “Did he call you?”
“I called him a few days ago.”
Curiosity got the better of her. “And what did he say?”
“Ask him when you see him. He’s at the shop.”
Played. She’d been played. Later she’d work up to a good lather over it, but the fight in her had gone. She couldn’t fix her professional life. She couldn’t fight against the trolls still raging.
She could, maybe, fix her personal life, or at least close the chapter on Diego and move forward.
ADITI
Aditi closed her office door, pressed her back to the wood, and stretched her arms above her head. She wiggled her toes in the soft beige carpet. Now, if anyone asked what she was writing or how it was going, she could say truthfully that writing was going so well she had skipped away from her office down the hallway to where she could hear her husband in the living room.
She pulled her hair over her shoulder and absently braided the strands. She fully intended to fall face first on a flat surface. The TV was too far away for her to hear the details of whatever show or movie Druv had chosen to unwind with, but it was her beacon. She followed the sounds and went to him.
Druv’s wide shoulders came into view. One of his arms rested along the top of the couch. She strolled the rest of the way into the living room, wondering how long he’d been forced to find his own form of entertainment as she worked.
Druv’s attention remained fixed on the television, but his head turned slightly in Aditi’s direction. Laugh lines indented his cheeks, though no smile creased his face at the moment. His dark eyebrows accentuated his skin. He needed a cut—the strands brushed just past his ears. If she dragged her fingertips through the strands and then frowned, she knew he’d get one. They had taken care of each other like that for years.
“Your phone,” Druv said as a greeting, and pointed to it.
She’d left it on the coffee table. Nothing like a writing session to make her phone ring. It was like a writer’s form of Murphy’s Law. The moment she sat down to write—really write and not watch YouTube vids or catch up on her social media—her phone would ring incessantly. And because her life had become one long deadline, she’d feel the need to answer it, or at the very least check to see who had called.
She rounded the couch. “Did you answer?”
He lifted his arm higher for a fraction of a second, his own form of welcoming her into his space. She settled in beside him, digging into the bowl of popcorn in his lap.
“Day off. Didn’t check. Figured if anyone we knew was dying, they’d call my phone.”
It was telling that his day off involved a day in instead of going out. Aditi knew that meant he was getting hot and heavy with someone. She wouldn’t complain. It had been a while since they had had an uninterrupted day together, especially since he’d gone all Law & Order on her about breaching her publishing contract.
“Then I won’t check my phone, either.”
She pulled the popcorn bowl into her lap. Druv grunted his protest but didn’t move the snack to sit between them. She focused on the TV. “Catching up on Legends of Tomorrow? I thought you quit that show?”
“Miller,” he said as the simple answer.
She had to laugh. Druv had had a longstanding crush on Wentworth Miller since the actor’s five seconds of screen time in Underworld. Good or bad, Druv had watched everything the man had starred in since.
She wouldn’t tell him how the actor’s run ended. That would be the fun part. His reaction would be epic.
Her phone buzzed. Druv sighed, and frustration filled the sound. She tensed, because she wanted things to be good between them. He was her touchstone. Druv picked up the bowl of popcorn from Aditi’s lap and shifted to make room for her to get up.
The move was a subtle thing. The nonverbal condemnation was something they rarely had to do with each other. They didn’t participate in passive aggressive communication. It was why their relationship worked.
“Something you want to say to me?” Aditi put the spotlight on the elephant in the room.
“Either turn off your phone or you answer it when it rings.”
Could she blame him for sounding pissed? The past few weeks had set him on edge right along with her. Work could only buffer so much of the drama from the outside, and it had taken a turn inside their marriage.
“Okay,” she said.
He rested his hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. “Hold on. I know that face.”
“It’s not a face. I’m going to turn off my phone. We’re going to watch TV and forget about the outside world for a few hours.”
His mouth pulled into a frown. “And that’s why I’m… annoyed.”
She twisted on the couch cushion, then pulled her leg into herself in order to face him fully. “Okay. Why are you?”
“You’re burying your head in the sand. It’s your defense mechanism. I get that, but it’s gotten out of hand.”
“Are you talking about the harassment? Or me writing something I shouldn’t be?”
“I learned a long time ago that you’re going to do what you want to do, and”—he talked over her when she started to respond—“it tends to work out in the end. The harassment… if that goes on much longer, I’ll let everyone know, and they can babysit you around the clock when I’m not home.”
“You wouldn’t.” She loved her family, but there was such a thing as too much family time. Not only that, her family would be in protective mode. “We’d have words, Druv.”
His face split into a smile. “I’m showing restraint.” He shook his head. “No, I’m talking about Cuddlebug and Michelle. You’re not dealing with them, and you need to.”
“I don’t see how those two things are related at all.”
“You refuse to call Michelle on her shit, so you turn to him to get out your frustration. He plays octopus afterward, and that puts you back where you started. You haven’t called your mom the past few weeks, because you’ve been a head case. Or there’s yet another deadline.”
This was the true downside to having a best friend you didn’t hide anything from—he knew everything and didn’t hold back. “I have been busy. My release is right
around the corner. The pressure from all sides is only going to get worse.”
Druv stared at Aditi for a long moment. “Michelle has crawled up your ass and has refused to leave. Other than my parents coming by for their weekly visit, you haven’t gone out of your way to see anyone but your fuckboy, who irritates the hell out of you.”
Could she argue? Could she even mount a defense? Cuddlebug had been an outlet. “I know.”
“Fix it, because this Michelle problem is bleeding everywhere.”
She narrowed her eyes and tried to read between the lines. “Even with us?” She held her breath when he glanced at the TV.
“No.”
Her stomach twisted. “Then what is?”
He sighed and faced her again. A second later, he cupped her cheek. “We’re fine.”
She’d married her best friend. Isn’t that what they said you should do? But maybe it wasn’t just Michelle and Cuddlebug sitting between them. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure I want you to either turn off your phone or answer it. Preferably answer it. Deal with your problems so when it’s our time to both perv over Wentworth, it’s anxiety-free.”
“You mean your time to perv over him.”
“Then clearly I’m the authority. At the end of the day, it’s up to you. You can keep avoiding the talk you know you need to have with Michelle.”
Aditi had avoided it because everything she wanted to say felt ugly and sharp. She couldn’t fight her way through to something softer. She didn’t want to consider that maybe there wasn’t anything softer to say. “And then what?”
“She’s your friend.”
It hadn’t felt like it in a while. There were glimpses of the woman—no, of the relationship they had had before the book deal. But glimmers weren’t enough. A person shouldn’t dread talking to one of their best friends.
But… “I know you’re right,” Aditi said. “Why am I not looking forward to this?”
“You hate confrontation.”
Again, could she say he was lying? She didn’t mind being outspoken when it was called for. She definitely had no trouble debating trolls on the Internet when the mood hit her. Talking openly to her friend about the numerous slights? Telling her family something she knew they didn’t want to hear? Yeah. One big detour on that. “True.”
“It’s healthy to have confrontation.”
“Again, says the attorney.”
Druv dropped his hand and laughed. “I am who I am. You love me for it.”
“You would have had it out with her months ago.”
“I would have.”
“So full of yourself.”
“Unless it’s date night.”
Aditi laughed. “How is your boyfriend?”
Druv grabbed a handful of popcorn. “Good.”
She raised a brow at the one-word answer. He’d been tight-lipped about the relationship, but then again, when had she last asked and paid attention to what he’d said?
She realized she didn’t really know what was going on with Druv. Not like she should have. It was something to roll over in her head, along with all the other stuff. She leaned forward to her phone and turned it off.
“After your Wentworth fix,” she said, “I need to see Rosewood.”
“What does Taneesha say? Morris Chestnut ain’t all that?”
“In her immortal words, ‘He ain’t shit.’ You have to quote her right for the full brunt of her opinion.”
Druv chuckled and put the bowl of popcorn back on her lap. They’d have another hour or two of peace between them.
But her stomach remained knotted, because an hour wasn’t long enough to fix the chasm in their marriage or her friendships.
TANEESHA
Taneesha put her forehead to her front door and tried to breathe. She could do this. She could walk outside, get into her car, and act like her life wasn’t a mess. Act like people weren’t trying to make her life a living hell. She wanted to refuse to be scared anymore.
But she still couldn’t help but feel the breath of fear at the nape of her neck. All the harassment was getting to her. She was having trouble feeling safe just walking to her car.
Taneesha backed up from the door and leaned against the opposite wall. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself. She knew that at some point, she’d have to resume her normal life.
Why not right now? You can do this.
The knock at the door made Taneesha jump out of her skin.
Bobby or anyone in her family would have called or texted first. Wary, she crept over to the door to look out the peephole. Her heart stuttered. Diego.
She opened the door, only bracing herself when his face didn’t lighten up at the sight of her. His mouth and brows were drawn down. He looked ashen.
“Yeah?”
He breathed in, then looked Taneesha in the eye. “First things first, Bobby didn’t send me. He handed me my ass, but he’s not why I’m here.”
“When did you talk to him?”
“About three days ago.”
Two days before Bobby’d sat in her kitchen and fed her. That meant he’d waited before meddling. He’d thought long and hard about what to say to his sister. What he’d told her held more weight in that light.
But Diego? He’d still stood on the sidelines and played devil’s advocate, and seen the other side when she was actually hurt. Her situation hadn’t been rhetorical or even an extreme for a woman visible in the gaming world. Those facts hadn’t changed. “My brother reamed you, yet you can say he’s not the reason you’re here?”
“I’m saying he didn’t tell me to come to your house. He told me I was one of the reasons gamers get a bad rap for living in basements and being misogynistic dickheads. That I was lucky you didn’t wipe me off the bottom of your shoe and keep moving. He told me a lot.”
Any anger she had toward Bobby about talking to Diego dissipated. “And that led you here?”
“No.”
“Then why are you?”
“Because after we talked I couldn’t sleep.”
“And?” Taneesha wasn’t close to done being mad.
Diego chuckled. “I deserve that and more.”
She stuffed her hands in her back pockets. “I have things to do.”
“I talked to my sister. Actually, we had family dinner. It’s a Sunday thing. I love it and hate it.”
“You’re rambling.”
“I asked her if she’d ever been sexually assaulted. Not raped, but had a guy ever touched her without her permission.”
Taneesha swallowed. “What did she say?”
“She told me things that turned my stomach.”
Sunday had been two days ago. “Your sister told you the same thing I did and that’s why you have compassion for my situation now? You didn’t trust what I told you.”
“Taneesha,” he said, his tone soft, almost pleading. “I asked my mother. I asked my female cousins and aunts. I talked to every woman at Sunday dinner and they all had a story.”
Her hands balled in her pockets. “Yeah. I’m not surprised.”
“You’re not surprised. But hearing all the women in my family telling me their own version of assault knocked me on my ass. Every single one of them told me something that left me breathless and sickened. It took me days to just process that.” He dragged a hand through his hair, and she could feel the tension rolling off him. “And you know, it shouldn’t have. I’ve seen the statistics on rape. I know rape happens. It never crossed my mind that almost every woman I know has had her tit grabbed, or that she doesn’t feel safe walking down the street in the middle of the day. I don’t walk around scared to get into my car late at night unless I’m in a bad neighborhood.”
He reached up and grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed. “I just always kind of imagined that perverted men waiting in dark corners do that shit. But it’s people I call friends, who I think are good, decent men. All I could do was look back and go over every exchange I had with women. I don�
�t know any creepers in trench coats, but how many times did one of my friends not take no for the first and only answer when they asked for a phone number?”
Diego was quiet for a long moment, then continued. “How many times did I not listen when a woman told me something that I should have taken to heart?”
“It’s usually nice guys who would be horrified to think they might be that guy.” Taneesha looked away from him. “It’s men who say they care about you, then tell you the things men say online aren’t literal.”
He lifted his hands and pressed his palms together. “Taneesha, I’m so damn sorry.”
She clamped her mouth shut, surprised at the apology.
“I’m sorry that it took me listening to the women in my family to understand why you were scared. And pissed. And frustrated. I don’t deserve even these few minutes you’ve taken to listen to me. I’m sorry.” Diego shoved his hands in his pockets and turned around to leave.
She should let him walk away. His callousness had hurt her before they had even moved past the lust-and-incredibly-smitten stage. If she fell for him hard, the next time he decided to disregard her experience or his own actions, what then? How shattered would she feel?
Her heart thundered as she stood in her doorway watching his retreating back. “Diego, what did you do after you talked to your family?”
He turned to her. “I went online and actually researched before I decided to open my mouth again. I found way too many videos about women getting assaulted. I don’t mean rape—just, like, getting cornered at work or school or followed home after leaving the club.” His shoulders raised, then went back down. “Anyway, I wanted you to know, I’m sorry. I believe you. I can’t take back what I’ve felt before or how I thought, but I won’t do it again. I don’t want any other woman to feel like she’s not safe.”
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