When My Soul Met A Thug Page 8
It pained me to frustrate her, but she would soon see that this was for the best. “I’m doing this for you, Mama.”
“Thank you, baby. I’m still praying that God will give us a miracle, though.” Finally, a smile slowly spread across her face. My heart melted. I didn’t know how many more chances I would have to put a smile on my mama’s face, so I treasured the opportunity to do it while I still had time.
6
Remi
“Hey, Remi. What you doin’ here so early?”
I smiled as I walked towards Mark, one of the bouncers at The Dating Game. “I came to bring my man something to eat before the comedy show starts. Where is he?”
He gave me a quick hug as he answered, “He’s in the back talking to the owner.”
“I’ll wait at the bar then.” I sashayed over to the bar and took a seat, placing the bag of pasta from Pizza Capri in front of me. I took a big whiff of it and closed my eyes as I savored the smell of the salmon pasta simmered in tomato cream sauce. I wanted some so fucking bad. It was my favorite and Banks’ too, but my get-snatched diet had officially begun. I had been on my diet for two days, and the struggle was so real. I had a goal to be fifty pounds lighter by Christmas, so I had six months. After the New Year, I planned on being on my way to the Dominican to get snatched. I wanted a tummy tuck, breast lift, and hella lipo. And by next summer, I would be in a thirty-thousand-dollar Pnani Tornai wedding dress looking like a snack instead of a fucking buffet full of rolls and cakes.
Every time I had to eat a salad instead of some Harold’s Chicken, I was mad as fuck at myself for letting myself go so much. But I blamed Banks. Not only was he the cause of the emotions that had driven me to eat my sadness, but he had also continued to dick me down while I gained every pound. He kept fucking me while I gorged and then fucked the shapely, healthy, skinny chicks behind my back. He had me thinking I was sexy out here in these streets and then waited until I was fifty pounds heavier to tell me that he had noticed that I’d gained weight.
But that was all I had needed to hear to get my shit together.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
I looked up from my thoughts and noticed one of the bartenders waiting to take my order.
This heffa. My insides sneered at the perfectly-built bartender. She was the exact reason why I didn’t need any more calories. “I’ll take a glass of wine.”
“What kind?”
“Merlot is fine.”
She nodded, and I watched her with envy as she poured my wine. Her body was perfect. Every single part of it was small and toned. The only thing big on her was the big ass and wide hips that made her leggings see-thru. She had on a cropped top that revealed a nearly invisible waist. These were the types of women that my man was around all the time, and here I was letting myself go.
“Here you go.” As she handed me the flute, I noticed her fingernails. They were beautiful, designed in fluorescent colors and an immense amount of rhinestones.
“Your nails are so pretty,” I told her. “Can I see?”
She smiled. “Sure,” she said as she stuck her left hand out proudly.
I leaned over, taking a sip as I admired her hand. And then I nearly choked on the Merlot as it slid now my throat.
“You okay?” she asked as I started coughing.
She snatched back her hand, watching me oddly as I coughed a few times. I was gasping trying to catch my breath as I forced out, “That’s my ring.”
On her finger was my three-carat, three-stone engagement ring. It was on her dainty little hand. I knew it. I had stared at it long enough to know every diamond, curve, and detail of it.
Finally catching my breath, I snapped, “That’s my ring!”
“Huh?” she was utterly confused as anger poured over my eyes.
Next thing I knew, I snapped again. I snatched that lil’ bitch up and pulled her over the bar. I could hear people yelling and scampering around me, but I could also hear my fists connecting with this her face as I stood over her cowering body.
She tried to fight back. She tried to kick and punch, but I grabbed her left hand and bent it back.
“Ooooowww!” she howled.
“Give me my fucking ring, bitch!” I screamed as I took the ring off her finger.
Just then, I was snatched up by someone much bigger than me because I was unable to get out of their grasp.
“Let me go!” I yelped.
“Don’t do this, Remi.” I recognized the voice as Mark’s.
He was carrying me towards the front door until I saw Banks rushing out of the back. He looked at me and then down at the bartender and raced towards her to help her.
That’s when strength I didn’t even know I had surfaced. I fought my way out of Mark’s grasp and ran towards them, screaming, “Why the fuck did she have my ring on, Banks?!”
I was crying, watching him help her to her feet. He immediately stood in front of her, to protect her from me snatching her up again. He met me and held me in a bear hug. Feeling his arms around me, I was too weak to fight. My bite was gone replaced with heartbreak.
“Why does she have my ring on, Banks?” I asked as I began to sob.
I stopped fighting finally. I stood still, and he let me go. We looked into each other’s eyes, and I saw that he stared back at me completely unapologetic.
He finally shrugged and simply replied, “You went in the wrong drawer.”
My eyes squinted in confusion. “What?”
He stuck his hands into his pockets and stood confidently. “You went in the wrong
drawer that night,” he announced so easily with relief as if he had been waiting so long to finally admit it. “When I asked you to get my watch, you went in the wrong drawer.”
My soul left my body. I was still alive, but I was now dead inside.
I stuttered, trying to wrap my head around this level of utter betrayal. “So… So…”
“I’m his fiancée, bitch!” The bartender appeared next to Banks, blood spewing from her nose, but proudly holding on to his arm.
I slowly looked towards her and then back at him. He stood there just as proudly as she did. I wanted to bash their faces together, but I couldn't do this anymore. Fighting women over him, fighting for him had come to an end. Not if I wanted to survive. Not if I didn’t want to lose it.
With a weak arm, I threw the ring at their feet. I then turned on heavy-burdened heels and walked towards the entrance. The patrons and bouncers watched me with so much pity that I was even more embarrassed. But I didn’t cringe. They were right to look at me that way. I had let Banks do it again. I had let him fool me again, trick me again, and manipulate me again. But only this time, as I walked out of that club, I knew I would never be the same.
COOP
“Why are we in here?” Rakim asked as he looked around the jewelry store with a frown like it stunk.
“I’m looking for something.”
“Looking for what?” he pressed as he followed closely behind me.
“I don’t know. Something to make True talk to me.”
“Wait. What?”
I avoided his eyes as I stopped at a counter with some dope necklaces inside. “I
walked out on her two days ago, and now she won’t answer the phone.”
“Sooo, you want to buy her jewelry?” The confusion in his voice was annoying.
I cut my eyes at him. This nigga was getting on my nerves with the 21 Questions.
“Ain’t that what men do when they fuck up with their girl?”
Rakim shrugged. “Yeah, some men do that, but not you.”
I sucked my teeth before saying, “Man, fuck you.” I went back to looking over the necklaces.
“Yo’, you seriously tryin’ to buy her something?” Rakim pressed.
“We in here, ain’t we?”
“But when she become your girl?”
“She’s not.” And I honestly felt regret when I said that. I hated this, caring, giving a fuck,
wanting her. That’s why I should have never given her more than some dick.
But I hadn’t. I had fucked up and started to like her for more than that wet pussy. I had given her more than a few nuts. I had laid up with her, gotten to know her, and I liked her.
I could feel Rakim staring at me as I peered into the case of necklaces. Then I heard him gasp. “Yoooo’, you want her to be your girl.”
Embarrassment made the hairs on my neck stand up. I already felt like a bitch doing this, and he was making it worse. But I needed his help, so I had to bring him. I had never bought a woman a gift. I hadn’t had a mother or father figure in my life, but I knew from watching TV that when a man wanted to get back in a woman’s good graces, he had to buy her something nice.
After walking out on True, I was good until that night. I was so used to hearing her voice before I shut it down for the night or being next to her as I went to sleep that it didn’t feel right that we were beefing. So, I called her, and she didn’t answer. Since, I had been blowing her phone up with no answer. I thought if maybe I sent her a pic of this nice gift, she would accept my apology. I was salty that she didn’t want to be my girl, but after all this time, shorty was a pretty good friend to me. Growing up the way I had, being shipped from one foster home to the next, living in group homes, raising myself on the streets, I barely had any real friends, and I had no family. Very few people genuinely gave a fuck about me. Shit, Rakim had been my only friend and family. Since outside of the sex, True had become my friend also, I missed her.
“She ain’t gon’ ever be my girl. She don’t want that and neither do I,” I lied. “But I pissed her off and—”
“And you care?” he asked, shockingly.
“Yes, motherfucker. Gawd damn!” I snapped loud enough that the store clerks looked at me.
“Aye, I’m just shocked,” Rakim explained. “You actually give a fuck about somebody.”
I frowned at his statement. “I give a fuck about you, don’t I?”
“Yeah, we been fam for years, though. And I made you rock with me so we could get this money. You started rocking with me because you finally started trusting me once you weren’t homeless no more after we started making money together. I had to prove my loyalty to you. I ain’t never seen you care about nobody else.”
I just looked at him. I didn’t have a quick, witty comeback for that.
Then this goofy started to look at me with this weird, smile pressing through his beard.
“What you staring at?” I asked.
“Enjoying the view.”
I pushed him in the chest. As he stumbled back a few steps, laughing at me, I told him, “You soft-ass nigga… Fuck you, and help me pick something out.”
He finally stopped talking shit and started looking over the necklaces with me.
As we did, he told me, “Zell’s baby mama said that he’s still running his mouth.”
“Shit,” I groaned.
“He young. He don’t know no better. You gotta shut him up, though. I know you don’t want to. I know he been on our team for a minute, but he’s a threat. He gotta go.”
“Say less.”
TRUE
I took a deep breath as I rang Coop’s doorbell. After two days of him blowing up my phone, I had finally decided to answer. I had missed him over those two days, but I needed the space to think this through thoroughly.
I knew that once I told him everything, he would be so pissed that the old Coop would reappear, and he would never speak to me again. Behind that asshole was a caring man that had slowly been revealing himself to me. I hated to shift his world like this, but I couldn’t have his baby without him knowing everything. So, I had to tell him.
When the door slowly opened, I took in his presence like a breath of fresh air. He was like a tall, burley statue of masculinity. It amazed me how such a beast of an angry man could have sparkling eyes, but his did just that in the setting sun rays that snuck through the door as I walked inside. My knees knocked along the way. My heart skipped beats as I removed my shoes and inched toward the couch. I sat down, laying my eyes on a beautifully-wrapped, small rectangular box sitting on the coffee table in front of me.
“That’s yours.”
I looked from the gift to Coop. As he stood in front of me, I had never seen him look so humble.
“You got me a present?” I couldn’t believe it. The vicious, heartless man that I had met had completely changed for me, and I had to break his heart.
“Yeah. Open it.”
“Sit down, Coop.”
He looked oddly at my seriousness. His eyes wondered why I wouldn’t open the beautifully-wrapped gift. He came towards me and sat beside me. He picked up the gift and handed it to me. I sat it down in my lap and swallowed my fear.
He started to be more compassionate than I had ever seen him. “I know you’re mad at me. I was wrong for walking out on you.”
My heart went out to this gentle giant. Tears welled up in my eyes. He had let his guard down… just for me to let him down. “Coop—”
“Just listen,” he interrupted me. “I know you’re not ready for a relationship, and that’s cool. I just don’t want to lose you as a friend. I only got one, and I never knew I would have another one. I—”
“Coop—”
“Let me fin—”
“I have cancer, Coop.” The words tumbled from my mouth like boulders that crushed his spirit.
Finally, I had his attention. He stared at me with wide eyes and asked breathlessly, “What?”
I took a deep breath and just forced it all to come out at once. “I have an inoperable brain tumor. That means they can’t take it out. There is nothing they can do for me.”
His confusion made him stumble over his words. “S-so what that mean?”
“I only have another year at most to live. All of 2017, I went through chemo and radiation. The tumor shrank, but then right before Jameel left, it started to grow again. I decided to stop the treatment when Jameel left me. I was tired of being so sick, just to end up dying anyway. I chose to live the rest of my days having fun without feeling the effects of chemo. The doctor… well, the doctors, because I have gone to so many for second opinions, say I only have about another year to live. A few months ago, I had found out that I am now Stage 3. I’m dying, Coop. There is no way around it, no treatments that will stop it, no miracles to wait for. I am dying. That’s why I can’t want to be in a relationship with you.”
“So, that’s why you smoke so much weed.”
I nodded. “Yes. It helps with the headache pain.”
Confusion and disbelief had silenced him. I didn’t force him to say anything either. I had had that same reaction when the doctors told me my prognosis two years ago. I had tried to fight back then, when it was only stage 2. I had gone through radiation and chemo. That’s why I was too sick to please Jameel. That’s why I had been too weak to be a good wife to him. That’s why he had left me. But once he walked out on me and the doctors told me the tumor had grown, after all the throwing up, dizziness, weight loss, hair loss, fatigue, and losing my husband, I was done. Since I was dying, I was going to do it feeling the best I could.
Coop was so messed up that he was stuttering over his words. “Are…are you…you sure? Have you gone to a specialist?”
I sadly nodded my head, feeling sorry for the little hope in his eyes. “I have. There is nothing that can be done.”
As Coop moaned, “Yoooo’,” I could hear the hurt in his voice as he stood up slowly and started to pace. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
I winced because it was hard to admit it in his face. “Because you were just supposed to be fun.”
His nose flared. Even though when he met me, I was just the same to him, he didn’t like hearing it. “But when it started to be more than fun, why not tell me?”
“I-I couldn’t. When I’m with you, I’m not dying.”
That was true. When I was out having my fun, I was living, the total
opposite of what I knew was happening to me. Everyone is destined to die eventually, but I knew when and I knew how. And that was scarier than not knowing. I knew that my daughter would go to prom, have babies, and get married, all without me. I knew that my mother would have to bury me. So, I snuck in every delusional moment of happiness I could.
Watching Coop, I knew that I had hurt someone along the way.
“But you are dying. So, when you saw me getting close to you, why not tell me?! You knew I had a hard time getting close to people.”
“I know!” I said, jumping to my feet. “I’m sorry.” I went towards him, but he backed away with such fury in his eyes that I knew better than to continue to approach him.
“Fuck that!” he snapped with the savagery of a beast. “Why let me fall for you when you knew you were dying?!”
“Because I was falling for you too and I didn’t want to hurt you!” I insisted.
“So, why are you telling me now?!” he yelled.
We stood there, yelling at one another with so much intense fire between us. We were two people who truly cared for each other, but we were also two people who had also truly hurt one another.
“Because I’m pregnant!” I admitted in a way that I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to yell or fight. I didn’t want to die with hate for me in anyone’s heart. I had already lost that fight with Jameel. I couldn’t add anyone else to the list.
Staring at me in disbelief, he asked, “You’re what?”
Sitting down on the arm of his couch, I explained, “I found out two days ago...and I’m keeping it.”
He frowned, bewildered. “Why? You’re dying.”
Leaning forward, I tried to grab his hand, but he snatched it away so hard that I heard the air in the room whip around it.
I grimaced and tried to make him understand. “But this baby will live, and since I am dying, since I am begging God to give me just a few more months, hell, a few more days, who am I to take a life?” Disapproval was all over his face, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t doing this for him. I wasn’t doing this for me. I was doing this for my mother and for the opportunity to do something good before I left this earth. “When my mother lost my stepfather, it was devastating for her. She never got over it. And now…” I got choked up. This was the hardest part of dying, knowing that I was the one responsible for putting my mother through this pain again. “Now, she has to go through the pain of losing me. I feel so guilty. So, I want to gift her with life, a life that will be a part of me. It’s not about you.”