Page 119 of Zimyra

“Yes. I hear you.”

“First, though, come on back in and tell everybody what you did…running off getting married…I’m still pissed about that.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“Yeah, but you’ll never hear the last of it.”

CHAPTER 40

I sent flowersto her job.

She refused delivery.

I’ve texted her nonstop for over a week.

She read them all, but not one reply. Not one.

I called her.

She didn’t answer.

Peter called me yesterday to inform me that she submitted a two-week notice. Two weeks and she’s no longer connected to the company.

Meanwhile, I sit at this apartment and agonize over the space I’ve given her, feeling like she needs it while at the same time realizing it’s driving us further apart. I know I’m the one who created this mess, that’s why I’ve allowed her to control the situation, but at what point does this madness stop?

I sit up in bed and realize this is the point. This is it. It’s midnight on a Sunday. I can’t sleep. I haven’t been able to since all of this popped off.

I get out of bed, slide into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, step into my shoes, and grab my keys. My mind races as I near the parking garage. I hop in the Genesis, engage the push-button start, and head straight for her place.

It’s dark and quiet. There’s not a lot of life in the streets this time of night on a Sunday. People are recovering from the weekend and sleeping, preparing for work on Monday. That’s probably what Zimyra is doing. Still, that won’t stop me from doing something I should’ve already done – take control of this situation.

I turn into the parking lot at her apartment complex. It’s quiet here, too. The pole lights outside emit an orangey glow to the parking area. I head to the door and ring the bell. I wait, listening keenly for noise, but I don’t hear a thing. I ring it again. Nothing. I press the bell repeatedly like a madman after that. Going back to my temporary home without talking to her is not an option. Not tonight. I hate to wake her if she’s sleeping, but it must be done.

“Who is it?” she asks.

But she knows who it is. There’s a peephole in the door and I know she’s used it.

I say, “Zimyra, I need to talk to you.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Do you realize what time it is?” she asks.

It irritates me that she has yet to open the door – talking to me like I’m a stranger. Like she’s afraid to let me inside.

I say, “Yes, I know what time it is. I got out of bed and drove over here. The least you can do is open the door and talk to me face-to-face, Zimyra.”

She goes quiet, but I can feel her presence behind the door, so I know she hasn’t gone anywhere.

I say, “Zimyra, I can’t sleep knowing that I hurt you. I’m sorry for the way you feel. I deceived you. I presented myself to you as someone I wasn’t. At the same time, you have to realize that the love I have for you is real. The way I feel about you is real. Ourmarriageis real. When I came down here months ago to shadow you, I had no idea I would fall in love with you. I had a job to do. That’s what I did, but the moment I walked into your office, I knew the job would be difficult because I could hardly take my eyes off you. I love you, Zimyra. I’m a man who doesn’t fall in love—who’s never fallen for anyone before I met you. I want you. I want our marriage. I don’t want to be without you any longer and if you love me, even a little, please open the door.”

More silence agonizes me. The night air thickens to the point where I feel like it’s hard to breathe. Perhaps it has nothing to do with the air but this situation. Just when my hope that she would open the door starts to fade, I hear the lock click. She pulls the door open and says, “Come in.”

I step inside, wanting to immediately pull her into my arms, but I opt to determine what kind of mood she’s in. She closes the door after I’m inside. It’s dark in her place, so I don’t get a good view of her face until she turns toward the lamp in the living room. It’s when I see tears in her eyes, bubbling their way out and running down her face.

“Did I mean anything to you?” she asks.

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