I swallowed hard, pushing my hands into the pockets of my jean jacket and trying to sound as casual as possible when I said, “Hey. You ready to go?”
But instead of answering my question, Knox only pulled the door open a little wider, making room for me to step inside as he finally replied, “Ri, I told you I was on my gentleman shit today. I was supposed to come to your door with roses and all.”
“Roses? Okay, who are you and what did you do with Knox Riley?” I asked with a little laugh as I followed him upstairs towards his bedroom. Not because we were going to do anything there, but because he still had to finish getting dressed.
And on the way, he tossed over his shoulder, “It’s still me, babe. Just a better, more mature version.”
“Interesting…” I trailed, thinking about the history Zalayah had brought up just earlier that day; a history that didn’t exactly paint him as mature.
Still, I wasn’t expecting him to probe, “Interestin’ how?”
I shrugged, plopping down on the edge of his bed as he continued towards his closet, forcing me to speak a little louder when I answered, “I guess I never pegged you as a flowers kind of guy. Kind of like I never pegged you as a family man. I don’t know. Maybe you really have grown up a little bit.”
When he finally reappeared, a dressier shirt than usual draped around his shoulders, he replied with a simple, “Gotta be better to attract what I want.”
Then, as he stood in front of the mirror and worked on the buttons he asked, “So… is it workin’?”
“Is it working?” I repeated, keeping my eyes trained on my feet as they dangled just above the floor.
But my feet quickly turned into our feet as he stepped in front of me and said, “Yeah. Are you... more attracted to me?”
Instead of peeking up to meet his eyes that I knew would cost me my dignity, I turned my face to the side as I started, “I mean…”
“Damn, it’s like that?” he asked, shaking his head as he made his way back towards the mirror.
And as I watched him put his watch on, I found the courage to ask, “Why are you putting me on the spot like this, Knox?”
He didn’t turn back around, instead speaking to me through the mirror when he replied, “No better time than the present to get my question answered. So tell me truth. Are you?”
“Am I what?”
He shook his head again, this time pairing it with one of his little chuckles as he said, “Quit playin’ foolish, babe. Or is that just a defense mechanism so you don’t have to give me the real? I mean, you already told me you want a nigga, but your actions been tellin’ me you only want what I carry in my pants. And I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout my wallet.”
For whatever reason, I immediately became defensive, standing up from the bed and stepping to him so that I could counter, “That’s not true. We’re just... getting to know each other again; getting to know these updated versions. And I want to take my time.”
“Take your time gettin’ to know me while also gettin’ beyond reacquainted with my dick. Yeah, aight,” he replied with a sarcastic roll of his eyes as he blew past me towards the door.
And as I practically chased after him down the stairs, I reasoned, “Knox, it’s not even like that. That’s just how it played out. I mean, I’ll keep my pussy to myself if that’s what it takes to prove my point.”
I already knew how ridiculous I probably sounded and it was clear Knox agreed as he laughed instantly, making it to the bottom of the staircase before turning around to stop me on the last step above him. “You and I both know that’s a lie. Not to mention completely unnecessary. I guess I just… I really wanna get it right this time, Ri. Even if it’s nothin’ more than the time we have left filmin’.”
“So what are you trying to say, Knox?” I asked, my voice just above a whisper as I made the mistake of looking directly into his eyes.
While they weren’t exactly the windows to his soul, the genuine energy in them was surely convincing when he replied, “I mean, a relationship seems like a stretch. I haven’t earned that no matter how good I’ve been droppin’ it off in those drawers.”
“Knox!” I screeched, smacking a hand against his chest as I laughed through the embarrassment.
And his face was completely amused when he asked, “Am I lyin’ though?”
I wished I could’ve actually told a believable lie as I gnawed at my lip. But the truth was, out of the whole situation, the fact that Knox hadn’t missed a beat when it came to sex was probably the only thing I had fully come to terms with. So instead of telling a story, I simply looked down at my feet and replied with a short and honest, “No.”
Knox didn’t let my eyes stay low, lifting my face by the chin so that my eyes were level with his when he confessed, “I just… I want you, Ri. In whatever capacity I can get you. And we can keep it all off-camera since you ain’t ready to claim a nigga on some official shit.”
I laughed again, reaching to brush a hand against his cheek as I teased, “Awww, sounds like someone’s feelings are a little hurt.”
“Hell yeah they are. But that’s alright. I’ll wait for that part. As for the other shit…” he trailed, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against him.
My hands rested on his shoulders as I made a weak effort at pushing him away regardless of how good it felt to be in his strong arms. “Knox, stop. The camera crew is already waiting for us at the restaurant.”
My legitimate reasoning meant nothing to him as his face hovered my neck when he said, “Fuck them. They’re the only thing standing in the way of me pursuin’ you even harder,” before landing a thick, full kiss against my neck that made me melt into him.
But even through my immediate moans, I was sure to remind him, “They’re also the only reason I’m around for you to… shit… do that. You should probably be… thanking them.”
While we were getting along better than ever these days, there was no way in hell I would’ve willingly been around Knox otherwise, even if that meant missing out on whatever was now developing between us. Hell, maybe I should’ve been the one thanking them for providing me the opportunity to see beyond the past; to experience the liberation in forgiveness.
I felt lighter than ever now that I was no longer carrying the burden of being scorned. And it was clear Knox was going above and beyond to make it worth my while when he lifted me from the ground with ease and offered, “Nah, I’d rather show you my appreciation instead.”
Knox
I couldn’t stop looking at her.
We were supposed to be reviewing the rough cuts of the first couple of episodes of Choreographer Lane, supposed to be taking notes on things we wanted to edit or change, supposed to be making sure we approved of the overall feel of the show they had created. But my eyes were trained on Amerie as she stared intently at the projector screen, watching the scene of the two of us sharing a moment in the studio.
While it had been easy for her to deny our chemistry initially, it was clear the dance floor served as a weak spot for Amerie as she easily succumbed to the natural vibe we had together when we danced. It was as if that was only time she had allowed herself to be free, the only time she had allowed herself to entertain the idea of an us.
Thankfully, things had changed since then as she peeked back at me with a knowing smile before turning her attention back to the screen. And I could only smile to myself as the episode cut to the next scene of the two of us sharing an obviously staged dinner considering the perfect ass lighting and the generic ass conversation we were having. But I could remember that night like it was yesterday since it was the same night that I had introduced Amerie to Kim, though that part wasn’t captured on camera.
Even though Amerie hadn’t been completely understanding when it came to my therapy, it felt good to at least be able to share the truth with somebody, especially since it would soon be public information. In fact, I had already prepared myself mentally for the many opportunities that were sure to co
me my way in regards to being something like the poster boy for the shit. But if that meant more people getting the help they needed, I was down for the ride. And I assumed I’d be supported in that endeavor as I watched the show cut to the next scene of Amerie in the studio on the phone with Blaise.
For the first time, I actually paid attention, thinking I may get some insight on how Amerie felt about us early on. And while the conversation was about me, it wasn’t exactly what I expected to hear. In fact, it was nothing more than Amerie sharing my business as if it was her own in the same condescending tone she had used when I first told her about it.
Before I could react, Amerie interjected, “I told that stupid ass cameraman to cut this!”
But the footage kept playing; the longer they talked, the more upset I became. I mean, it was one thing for me to share my situation on my own terms, in my own way. But for Amerie to take what I told her, to take my vulnerability and share it like fuckin’ common gossip was…
“Turn this shit off,” I snapped, my heart pounding through my chest as I stood up from the table to leave the room. Though Amerie’s dainty hand around my forearm attempted to stop me in my tracks.
Still, I snatched away, heading for the door with Amerie right on my heels. “Knox, wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear.”
“I thought I could trust you, Ri,” I tossed over my shoulder as I jabbed at the button for the elevator, desperate to get some fresh air.
But even when it arrived, Amerie climbed on right behind me, clouding my space as she yelled, “You can trust me! I was just… talking to Blaise. He’s your friend. What’s wrong with him knowing?”
“Don’t you think I would’ve told him myself if I wanted him to know?” I asked through clenched teeth, squeezing my hands into fists as I tried to survive the elevator ride to the lobby without cursing her ass out.
And Amerie certainly wasn’t making anything easier when she replied with a careless, “I mean… yeah, but… you said you were going to record your sessions with Kim for the show. That you were ready to liberate.”
In the blink of an eye, I was right in her face, stabbing myself in the chest to emphasize, “I said I was gonna record my sessions. I was gonna liberate. I was gonna do things on my own accord, to the beat of my own drum. But nah, you wanna put my shit out there for me and let people pre-judge me the same way you are obviously still doin’ right now.”
“But Knox, I…” she tried, though my anger allowed me to quickly cut her off.
“But Knox nothin’. That shit was foul, Ri. I mean, you literally have no idea how important this is to me. You have no idea how long it took me to even find the courage to walk into that first appointment. Yet you felt comfortable sharin’ my shit? On camera at that? You don’t even know why I fuckin’ go to the therapy!”
“Knox, listen...” she said, putting a hand to my chest in an obvious effort to ease the tension.
But that shit meant nothing to me as I smacked her hand away, pushing past her and pressing the emergency stop button so that I could tell her, “Nah, you listen. You wanna share my business, right? You think you know what you’re talking about, right? Well did you know I go to therapy because my fuckin’ father shot my mother for no real reason other than his ego? His little feelings were hurt cause she cheated on him even though he had been cheatin’ on her for longer than I had even been alive. And...”
“Knox…” she whined in an attempt to cut me off, already overwhelmed with the boatload of information as if I wasn’t the one who had actually carried the burden for my whole life.
Night after night that shit ate at me. Night after night I tried to make sense of it, wondering how my father could’ve been so selfish. And even now as an adult it still wasn’t completely clear, though that didn’t stop me from continuing on, “Nope. You wanted my business, so you’re gonna get all of that shit because guess what happened next? He shot himself. That coward not only took my mother from us, but he couldn’t even stand to live with the consequences. And guess who had the privilege of findin’ the two of them layin’ in a mix of their blood? You guessed it. Me. So now fucked up ass Knox gets to go through the rest of his life tryna make sense of whatever love is supposed to be when I really feel like fuck love. Love is painful. Love is toxic. Love can… get you fuckin’ killed.”
Strangely enough, standing in front of Amerie as I sucked up the mucus that had begun to form in my nose and swiping back at the single tear that had somehow slipped along the way felt more liberating than any of my therapy sessions with Kim. Even though she had taken advantage of my vulnerability and was only able to respond now by standing back in shock with a hand over her mouth, there was no ignoring the reasons why I felt comfortable sharing so much with Amerie in the first place. Because truth be told, how I handled the situation with her had been the kick-starter to this whole chase for answers, had created this need for understanding.
While my actions aligned with everything I knew about love at the time, my mind constantly drifted to everything I wanted to know, everything I wanted to experience, the wounds I didn’t even realize were healing in Amerie’s presence before I made the stupid decision to pick at the scabs.
And even though I had already apologized and given her a surface level rationalization, I still felt the need to explain, “You really wanna know why I hurt you way back when? Because you felt like love, Amerie. What we shared felt like the closest thing to love to me. But love was… it was supposed to be wrong. It was wrong. So instead of givin’ you all of this, instead of pourin’ my fuckin’ heart out to you like I am now, I played your ass so that I wouldn’t have to face the truth.”
That admission was what made Amerie break as she choked back tears. And even though it stabbed at me to see her cry, I needed her to hear what I had to say. I needed her to hear the truth.
So I took her hand, chewing at the inside of my cheek before I continued, “I loved you, Amerie. You can say whatever you want about our time together, but I loved you. I still love you, and therapy has taught me to live in my truth regardless of the factors I have no control over. But considering what you did, it’s clear I really don’t have any control over how you feel about me. And I suppose it’s my fault for not believin’ you when you said you didn’t care about me in the first place. Don’t worry though, I get it now.”
“Knox…” she cracked the second I let her hand go, her voice hoarse as if she had been screaming on the inside. But I couldn’t turn back, my focus completely on getting the elevator doors to open so that I could escape this suffocating air.
When they finally did crack open, I made the mistake of peeking back to find Amerie’s make-up slightly smeared by the tears she had shed only further solidifying what I thought all along.
Love really does hurt.
&
I took the long way home on purpose, giving me plenty of time to cool off before being faced with the aftermath of everything that had happened. But just when I thought I had reached a place peaceful enough to pull into the driveway, I received a call from Blaise that only allowed the original feelings to resurface.
Still, since I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions about the call, I tried to keep my voice neutral when I clicked the speakerphone and answered, “Sup, bro?”
To no surprise, his voice wasn’t nearly as calm as mine when he repeated, “Sup, bro? That’s all you got, man? Amerie called me bawling her fuckin’ eyes out and all you got is sup bro?”
I shook my head, resting it against the steering wheel and releasing a heavy sigh as I imagined what Blaise was probably thinking when he got the call. I could pretty much assume he thought I had fucked her over again, could pretty much assume he was ready to rip into me for doing exactly what he asked me not to from the jump. But truth be told, the blame was really on her this time.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Blaise. I mean, it is what it is at this point. I said all I needed to say,” I explained as I replayed t
he scene over in my head as if I hadn’t already done it a million times on my extended drive home.
But each word was still fresh, each additional piece of information I shared still held the same fire, and each tear I watched her shed in response still cut me deep. And while I was already feeling a little regretful for walking away, Blaise only rubbed it in when he asked, “Did you ever think maybe she had something to say too? I mean, do you really believe that shit you said to her? Really believe she doesn’t care about you?”
I rolled my eyes as I fired back, “Care about me enough to put my business out there? Yeah, that’s real lovin’ of her, bruh.”
“You’re saying that like she put that shit on a billboard or somethin’. We were talking about Malia maybe needing some counseling after this stuff with her mom and she mentioned you which, I really don’t know why I heard the shit from her first to begin with.”
Even though Blaise knew a surface level version of my past, the depths that I had shared with Amerie were enough for me to reason, “It’s personal, Blaise. But shit, I’m pretty sure she already told you everything now.”
“Actually, she didn’t. She couldn’t stop talking about how much she cares about you, and how she can’t figure out how to make you understand now that you’ve already decided otherwise in your mind.”
“I didn’t decide otherwise. She proved otherwise when she went runnin’ her mouth to you about some shit that wasn’t hers to share to begin with,” I corrected, mad that he was so obviously standing up for her instead of seeing things from my perspective.
I mean, I could only imagine how he would feel if Amerie went around telling his business. Then again, Blaise had lived a fairly uncomplicated life. There wasn’t much about him that wasn’t considered “normal” compared to me who had a past filled with everything but.
An Encore for Love Page 17