Page 47 of Saint Baptiste 2

“I—“

“Tell me you need more time, Oki.” I paused. “Tell me I’m still too early.”

I was fucked up.

“Saint, look, you know I’m here with someone and?—”

“What the fuck that gotta do with us, Naoki? Hmm?” I coldly interrupted. She drew back with wide eyes, and I took in a deep breath. “Listen. Don’t mention that nigga to me...” I paused and ran my hand over the top of my head. “Not right now. Not while I’m...” I took in another deep breath. “Oki, just… tell me you need more time.”

The confidence I felt up on the stage earlier when I noticed her hand go to her neck? Lost every bit of it. The longer we stood in silence, the further in the opposite direction she went. I felt it. It wasn’t in the way she pulled her hand away. It wasn’t in her tone. It wasn’t the things she said. It was in the air. It was the connection. It was that... thing. I was losing it.

She didn’t reject me. Didn’t tell me what I needed to hear, neither. And I let her have it. I didn’t push. Didn’t beg. I let her pull away. The difference between her pulling away and those feeble walls she liked to put up with me was that this time it was for good reason. This time, I understood. She didn’t want me. She wasn’t trying to keep me out because she was afraid I would hurt her. She was pulling away because I’d done too much damage, and she was in no position to risk her anymore. In all of the years I’d known Naoki, I had never felt her drift away. Only draw closer. That thing I longed for. That feeling. Those feelings. The feeling of her… it had this subtle draw back. Like the sun when it sat. It didn’t just leave. It had a slow descend and that’s what I felt with her. The sun was setting.

Before it could leave completely, I grabbed her by the waist and forced her to face the mirror. I stood behind her, and we connected there, through our reflections.

Her chest heaved, her pulse raced. It tapped at an insane rate against my lips as I lowered my head there. Inhaled. Tom Ford, Lost Cherry.

“When you put that on earlier, did you think of me?”

She didn’t say anything.

Didn’t have to. I got my answer when she swallowed. I brushed my hands up the length of her arms and pressed my body closer against her. “You look absolutely beautiful tonight. But then again, Naoki, you’re beautiful every day. In ways and places you can’t see. When I call you beautiful… when I look at you the way I look at you, why do you think that is? Hmmm, amou?”

Nothing. Her pulse steadied. Breathing too. I closed my eyes and inhaled more of her. Wished there was a way I could bottle the shit up and keep it on my nightstand for the times I would miss her most. Which was every got damn day. I would need it. To bottle her up. Because although I was pressed against her. And although she felt like mine, she continued to drift. Further. That sun… continued to set.

Me, standing with her, turning to face her toward the mirror, it stopped being about me getting her to understand the way I felt about her, the minute I felt her descend. She’d never understand. She’d never hear me. Because not only couldn’t they see her the way I saw her, she couldn’t neither.

So, I had to show her.

“Because everything… I mean, everything about you is beautiful. Especially the way you try to hide. Especially when you get to scrabbling for walls that never worked on me. Oki, you never needed walls with me. The minute I saw you, I saw you. A woman, hiding her true beauty behind a mask. A woman who came with a set of rules, a box, and walls because she was afraid of being seen. Afraid to be vulnerable. Afraid that one day, someone would see that, it was love she wanted all along. I noticed. I noticed off back. Knew I wasn’t prepared to give you what you desired but… I stayed, and I stole pieces of you because the light you carried behind that mask unveiled a truth of my own. I wanted it too. The things I did… the actions I took… they were never taken to hurt you. Leaving was about me. Leaving was me running. Leaving was me staying in my box. Pandoras and the invitation? Kept it from you because I could see you. Behind that mask… the truth? I saw it. That place… it was no place for you, Oki.”

I paused to snatch a couple of Kleenex from a box sitting on the vanity. Stood behind her again and dapped at wet eyes that were drowning with sadness.

“The only time I fucked up was when I mishandled you and made this,” I motioned between us. “More about me. By bringing my bruised ego into a situation that didn’t require ego at all. With you… I just was. Didn’t need to pretend with you. Just existed. I fucked up. And I’m fucking up again. Pushing against your boundaries. Trying to get you to tell me what I need to hear instead of giving you what you require. Time, space, distance, room to grow. An opportunity to heal whatever demons wake you up in the middle of the night. What I need is to let you go… is to accept shit for what it is.”

I placed a kiss on the side of her neck and, again inhaled. “I trust that it is time you need. Could be wrong. But… that’s what I choose to believe. I won’t force my beliefs on you though, Cheri. If I happen to be wrong, I’ll just be wrong. If you happen to one day look up and realize I was too early, I’ll be here… waiting… ready to receive you. Don’t give a fuck about how much time it takes. I’ll be here… always, waiting. You hear me? I’m patient as fuck, baby.”

Although I’d said what I said, in the back of my mind, I knew it was too late.

I wasn’t too early. I waited too long. It wasn’t patience I needed; it was to let go. And that’s what I did. Walked out of the restroom, found Dion, thanked the Alliance again, and left. Couldn’t imagine spending another minute in that bitch with her there, with him. I didn’t have enough restraint not to follow through with the desire to go across the niggas head a couple times.

CHAPTER 11

NAOKI

“How did that make you feel?” Asked Eboni, my therapist.

Yes, my therapist. I had a therapist. Mmhmm. I couldn’t believe it neither. Me, Naoki, in fucking therapy. And she was black too. One day, I woke up and realized I didn’t want to wake up anymore. That shit terrified me. Something had to change. The second that thought came to mind, I got on my phone and searched for a therapist. I couldn’t drown. I had to keep swimming. Had to keep trying.

I saw Eboni twice a week and I loved it. for the most part. Loved it right up until today. Usually, I’d walk in, spill and leave. Today, after the night I had last night, she cut me off and asked a question I didn’t know how to respond to. Not for real anyway. Not the way I wanted to respond. I wanted to leave therapy feeling... lighter. That was the purpose right? To leave feeling better? That’s what I needed. After... after last night, I needed to feel something other than the heaviness I felt. Needed to unload, breathe, and walk out feeling... lighter.

Last night was chaos.

Last night was supposed to be a good night. Chase—yes, Chase—invited me to this formal event called The Black Effect. It was Downtown at the Waterview Loft. Chase and I... we were only friends. Did you think for one second that a bitch like me, in my position was in any position to deal with a got damn man? He needed a date, and I needed something to do. it was just that simple. I was staying ‘open’ like Sienna said. Just... trying to enjoy life without worrying too much about ‘the ugly shit’.

Chase was okay. He wasn’t as corny as I thought. Wasn’t just an herbal tea drinking nigga next door. He was the neighbors herbal-tea-drinking-thirty-six-year-old-single grandson. He was an only child from Grand Rapids who owned several businesses in and out of Michigan. That was nice. He was nice. But I didn’t really care too much about what he had going on. Chase couldn’t do anything for or with me. He was just an entertaining distraction. Nothing more than that. We went out to brunch a few times, would speak in passing, and he still took my trash out but that was just about it. For me it was, at least.. I was just there for a good time and last night was supposed to be that.

But... things went wrong. Things went horribly wrong.

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