Return to Me

by Yuwanda Black

  . . .

  Zeke and Tina had been high school sweethearts. Now that he looked back, he had to laugh at the predictability of their relationship. She was a cheerleader, he was captain of the wrestling team.

  She was homecoming queen; he was homecoming king. They'd been voted most likely to get married right out of high school, and that's just what they did, tying the knot before they both entered the University of Miami as freshmen.

  Even though they lived close to an internationally known city, South Beach, Miami, they were raised in a small town about 20 miles on the outskirts. It was the type of town where you grew up, married your high school sweetheart and started a family.

  And that's what they'd done – only they took a detour to college.

  Five years into their marriage, Zeke found out that Tina was cheating on him with his best friend, Darius. And, it had been going on for a long time.

  Thinking back over all the dinners, movies, sporting events, birthday parties and other events they'd attended together during that time – and realizing that they'd both been lying to his face – had almost been too much.

  He could have survived it though, had they not dealt him one final blow – he found out that the son he'd been raising for almost two years wasn't his. His best friend was the biological father. That nearly destroyed him.

  Anger consumed him. It turned his once open, loving heart into a closed, black, diabolical hole hell bent on revenge.

  No one was going to take his son from him. No one he'd vowed. Since he and Tina were married when the child was conceived, he was the legal father – no DNA could change that.

  Every time he went to pick up the little boy up though, it turned out to be a nasty, bitter scene. Tina had moved in with his best friend, taking their son with her. She, Darius and his son – their son -- were living as a family … and it ate him alive.

  One night while visiting his mother, he was discussing his upcoming divorce hearing with her. It changed the course of his life.

  "Son, I'm going to say something that I know you don't want to hear and it breaks my heart to have to say it. But, I'm your mother and only have your best interests at heart, so just remember that, ok?"

  "Darius is that child's biological father. And although you have all the legal rights in the world, it's not going to change that. That child, who I couldn’t love more if he was my biological grandchild, is the innocent in this mess. Would you deny a child the right to get to know his own flesh and blood?"

  "Although Tina and Darius did you wrong, they're going to have to answer to God for that. Release your claim on that baby if that's what they want."

  "Besides," his mother continued, "this is eating you alive. I see it all over you. Do you want to put yourself through years of back-and-forth in court? Do you want to put an innocent child through that?"

  Unbidden tears flooded Zeke's eyes.

  "I don’t know if I can do it mama. I don't know if I can," he sobbed, burying his face in his large hands, his broad shoulders shaking from the loss he already felt of a little boy he loved with all his heart.

  His mother's heart broke for him as she held him.

  "God puts no more on you than you can bear son. Trust me on that. … I don't want to see you waste the next 10 or 15 years in and out of court over a child who may one day resent you for interfering in his life."

  Zeke had never thought about this. He couldn't bear the possibility of seeing hatred in his son's eyes one day.

  He knew what he had to do.

  . . .

  Zeke knew Darius picked Tina up from work every day, so he'd driven to her office building and parked in the spot he'd parked in so many times before as he'd waited for his wife to get off work.

  "I'll sign over my parental rights, as long as you give me a non-contested divorce, remove my name from the birth certificate, put his name on it and don’t ever try to contact me or my family again. You two stay the hell out of my life!" he'd said to Tina and Darius as they stood, stunned, in the parking lot.

  He left as quickly as he'd come. His rage was at the point of boiling over and he knew that if he stayed any longer, he was in serious danger of losing control. And Zeke knew that if he laid one hand on Darius, there was no guarantee he'd be able to stop before doing serious bodily harm.

  His mother had been right. His anger was only increasing. And it wasn't fair to an innocent child, or to himself, to perpetuate the situation.

  After filing for divorce and ensuring that Tina agreed to everything he'd stipulated to in their divorce papers, two weeks later, Zeke had quit his job, packed up and moved to New York, wanting to put as much distance between him and his old life as possible.

  He'd visited the city once – when he was 15 – on a school field trip. He remembered – and liked – the energy of the place.

  What he appreciated about it when he moved permanently at 23 was the autonomy of it. You could be surrounded by millions of people, but still feel like you had your space; your sense of peace. It was just what he needed at that time in his life – people, so he wouldn't feel alone, but space, so he could deal with his feelings when he chose to.

  Zeke had been in the city for almost seven years before he met Brooke.

  As he'd fallen in love and gotten married so young, he hadn't played the field like so many young men his age had. But during those years, he'd made up for lost time – and then some.

  But he never let any woman get too close – until Brooke. At 29, he was tired of playing the field, but had vowed he'd never get married again. He could commit, no problem; but marriage was not an option.

  And this had seemed fine with Brooke. One of the things he loved about her was that she was all about the love, the commitment; not a ring or a wedding.

  Besides, they were both committed to their careers. Brooke's was taking off as an online fitness instructor. She'd started her own YouTube channel, which had led to different endorsement deals with online sports-related apparel companies.

  For his part, he'd managed to land two high-profile clients because of his diverse background in sport, as well as his degree in Physical Education. In addition to being an accomplished wrestler, Zeke was also a skilled mixed martial artist.

  One day, as they were preparing lunch in her apartment, Brooke said something that sent off alarm bells – and changed the course of their relationship. A month later, he'd broken up with her.

  . . .

  "So Mr. Granger, when are you going to put a ring on it?" she'd said, mimicking the popular Beyoncé tune.

  "Is that what you want?" he'd said, eyeing her seriously.

  Brooke had always assumed that she'd spend the rest of her life with Zeke. And while she'd asked the question as a joke, for the first time, she seriously pondered, "Can I stay with someone who won't marry me; who takes that option off the table?"

  Brooke knew how Zeke felt about marriage. He'd always said that it wasn't an option. She knew he'd been married before, but didn't know the details of what had caused his divorce. About the most he'd say was, "It didn't work out and it was a lifetime ago. It's not something I like to think about."

  In spite of this, because their relationship bordered on perfect, she'd assumed that he'd change his mind, or at the very least tell her what had happened to make him so closed to the idea of marriage. It was about the only thing she hadn't gotten him to budge on in their three years together.

  All of this ran through her head when he said, "Is marriage what you want Brooke?" For the first time, she realized, Yes, it might be something I do want. And if I can't have it, then I at least deserve an explanation as to why.

  Turning off the water in the kitchen sink where she was rinsing some arugula for their lunch salad, she said as much to him, adding, "Zeke, you know I'm not exactly a 'gotta have a ring or else' kind of girl."

  "But if we're going to share our lives together – which is what I want more than anything – then we have to be able to tell each other everything, es
pecially about something as important as marriage and divorce. And there's a big chunk of missing information where yours is concerned."

  "I haven't pressured you about it because what we have is so good. I trusted that in time you'd tell me when you were ready. We're three years in, and I'm still waiting -- not with bated breath, mind you. But now that the 'where is this all going' conversation seems to have gotten put on the table in a roundabout way, then I think it's time we had that conversation."

  Brooke noticed the pulse in his neck quickening. Crossing his arms, he said, "Do you believe I love you?"

  "Yes, of course I do," she responded.

  "Isn't that enough?"

  "To be completely honest Zeke, I don't know. With more information, it might be. Without it, I just don't know …"

  "Why won't you tell me what happened with your marriage? I know your not wanting to get married again has something to do with that. Maybe if we talked about it, we can get on some common ground about where we're going."

  Zeke felt like he was going to have a panic attack. His heart started racing, it was hard to breathe, his palms were sweaty – he couldn't, he just couldn't.

  He couldn't tell her that he stared at a baby picture of a child that used to be his – even after all these years -- and wondered what he looked like now.

  He couldn't tell her that the woman he'd spent seven years loving had lied to him hundreds, perhaps thousands, of times – and he hadn't had a clue.

  He couldn’t tell her that he'd trusted three people, implicitly, in his whole life – his mother, his best friend and his wife – and two of them had betrayed him, over and over and over again.

  He couldn't tell her ... "Are you alright, Zeke? You look pale," a faraway voice said.

  Swallowing hard to regain some equilibrium, he said, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just had an extra hard workout today, right on the heels of working out with a client."

  "Go sit down," Brooke said. "I'll bring you something to drink and finish preparing lunch, ok? We can finish this conversation later."

  Brooke had never seen him look so pale, so unbalanced. He was always the picture of health and completely in control.

  Zeke clasped his hands together in an effort to stop their trembling as he stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows of her tiny apartment. Whenever he was transported back to that dark place in his life, darts of pain pierced the center of him – hitting their mark time after time after time – right in the heart.

  The ticking of the faux antique clock on the fireplace mantle Brooke loved so much ironically underscored that time does not heal all wounds, he thought.

  He loved her … God knows he did, but he wasn't prepared to open that door again – not even for her.

  . . .

  And he hadn't. He never did open up to her; instead he'd done something else, something far worse he now realized. He'd broken her heart.

  Chapter 10: The Breakup

  Five years earlier

  "Are we cooking at your place or mine tonight?" Brooke asked, clarifying plans for their cooking dinner date.

  Zeke and Brooke loved cooking together and at least once a week, they'd prepare a meal at her place or his. Even though they spent almost every night together, they kept their respective apartments because they were rent-stabilized, and it worked perfectly when they had friends and family visiting from out of town.

  "I'll come by you," Zeke said. "I'll pick up what we need. What time do you think you'll be finished filming?"

  Once or twice a week, Brooke had a videographer come over to film a full-fledged exercise session to upload to her YouTube channel. She could record her daily diet and nutrition tips herself via a simple web cam. But a full body workout required the help of a professional. And, she did it right from her apartment.

  "Around 7," she said. "That'll give me time to get the place back into 'apartment mode' and shower before you get here."

  "Ok, see you at 7."

  "Love you," Brook said before he hung up.

  "Me too," he said.

  Brooke stared at the phone. Zeke had changed over the last month. His "I love you toos" had become, "Me too."

  He's stopped asking her to go food shopping with him for their cooking dates, something they loved to do together. This was the second time in as many weeks that he'd offered to do the shopping on his own.

  They'd also spent more nights apart. In the last thirty days, they'd spent more nights apart than they had the entire six months before that.

  And, they'd never finished that conversation about his marriage. She'd tried to broach it a couple of times, but each time he'd shut down.

  Brooke had been concerned, so much so that she'd Googled "what to do when your man shuts down" because Zeke had definitely been shutting her down -- and out – lately.

  Specifically seeking advice about men – from men – Brooke came across the article, Five Reasons Men Go Silent, and What to Do About It (Part One), on PyschologyToday.com, written by a male psychologist that resonated with her. It read, in part:

  Men are just as vulnerable as women to their own unique [emotional] histories. …

  Paraphrasing, he went on to say:

  If a man's silence is driven by experiences much earlier in his life -- when he learned that conflict was dangerous -- then his safest response in those younger days would have been to retreat from conflict. The strategy may have worked well back then, but it may no longer serve him. Behaviors that once kept us safe are some of the most difficult behaviors to change. It takes special effort to understand and transcend that history.

  Brooke knew that Zeke's marriage had everything to do with why he wouldn't marry her. The part of the article that really resonated with her was the last sentence, ie, it takes special effort to understand and transcend that history.

  And Zeke wasn't making any effort to transcend – to work on letting her in. And if he was like this now, how could they possibly have a successful relationship moving forward? He had to let her all the way in emotionally if they had a chance and so far, he hadn't done that.

  Clicking on to read Part II of the article, Brooke read out loud:

  Perhaps the most damaging outcome to silence is that, by its very nature, silence leaves the recipient guessing. And when a human mind is left to fill in the blanks, rarely will it paint a rosy picture.

  And that's exactly what was happening to her. She was starting to wonder. What exactly had happened in his marriage? What was so awful that he couldn't share with her? Was it something he'd done? Domestic violence? Adultery? Disease?

  Although she instinctively knew that Zeke could never hurt a woman, her mind was filling in the gaps and as the article said, it wasn't painting a rosy picture.

  She had to get Zeke to open up to her. So taking the advice of numerous articles she'd read on how to get men to open up, she hatched a plan.

  Since cooking together was one of their favorite things, she'd casually mention it over a glass of wine at the end of the meal. This is usually when they were relaxing and discussed their day.

  She'd find a way to non-threateningly introduce the subject, framing it as a problem "they" faced, not a problem "he" had to "fix."

  The evening hadn't quite worked out that way.

  . . .

  Zeke took the glass of red wine from her hands, pulled her up and led her to her bedroom. "I need you Brooke," was all he said.

  He only uttered one more sentence the rest of the evening.

  Slipping her extra-long t-shirt over her head, he swiftly removed the silk screen of cloth that covered her womanhood and pushed her back on the bed.

  There was an intensity to his lovemaking she'd never felt before, but she was too consumed by yearning to examine it.

  Drawing his head down to her upturned nipple, he drew long and hard on the engorged peak, parting her legs with his commanding thighs.

  She felt his rock-hard shaft throbbing against her trembling things. Burning with need, he drove his fingers into h
er soft, moist retreat – circling, circling, circling – timing his movements between her legs with the suckling of her breasts.

  Brooke clung to him, begging for release.

  Not heeding her pleas, Zeke moved his head lower, his green eyes smoking with desire – and devoured her center.

  She groaned, accepting the lashing of love his tongue was heaping on her. He lifted her hips to him for better access, suckling slowly at first -- darting his tongue in and out, up and down, and around and around every part of the most intimate part of her.

  Brooke spread her legs wider, begging – not sure for what at this point. She wanted release, but she didn't want this exquisite pleasure to end. The more she moaned and the wider she spread her legs, the faster his tongue swirled, creating a mating rhythm of thrusting hips, whirling tongues and wild, guttural sounds no one would recognize as human.