Page 18 of Differences

A tingly feeling shot through my body. I felt cared about, a feeling I hadn’t felt from Jay in a while. My thoughts quickly interrupted when I looked and saw Jay digging through the bag, eating a fry, and smacking. I texted Weston back, thanking him for the dinner. However, Jay had ruined my appetite.

Me:Thank you, really. You didn’t have to do all of that.

“Damn, this shit is good! Look, baby, it’s enough for the both of us.”

I rolled my eyes and headed back down the hall. Today was too fucking much, and I needed space from Jay, especially after his behavior and with the way Weston was on my mind.

7

Weston

The only thing I was hearing right now was blah, blah, blah. Tamara was doing too much talking, and I was over it. I just wanted to go to sleep. We had just got finished releasing our weeks’ worth of frustrations on each other with all the fucking we just got finished doing. I sat there scrolling on my phone, trying to look over a few emails, but my concentration was being thrown off by Tamara’s rambling.

“I just don’t get it. I’m the head bitch in charge. I do this shit in my sleep, and these bitches want me to take the time out of my day and show them what the fuck to do? What the fuck was school for? Lazy ass kids these days.” She scoffed.

I rolled my eyes. Tamara was a real estate lawyer. She had her own firm and had many people working for her. Her reputation around town made her firm a hot commodity. She volunteered often at the local college for interns, but honestly, it was a publicity stunt in my eyes. She talked more shit about these college students trying to make a way for themselves than anything.

Tamara was beautiful on the outside, but she was a fucking bitch on the inside, which is why I never bothered taking this relationship more than what it was. She had milk chocolate skin and rocked a black pixie cut, and she always kept it looking sharp. Everything that Tamara wore was designer down to her fucking socks. Naturally, she was beautiful, with slanted eyes, a small button nose, and nice lips, while everything else left on her body was worked on or adjusted. She tried to lie and say it was because of her working out, but as many positions as I have had her in, I noticed the incision scars. She wasn’t fooling me.

“Weston, did you hear me?” she snapped in my face.

My nostril flared. That irritated the shit out of me. I wasn’t her fucking dog.

“No, Tam, I was busy checking emails. What is it?” I snapped.

She scoffed. “I’m asking, have you decided whether you want me to go with you to your company’s party?”

I rolled my eyes. Tamara had been asking me for months about attending the annual gala that TRU hosted. This year, I was one of the recipients being honored for my impact on the company. Everyone who was someone would be at this event. It was a formal black-tie event, and everyone who was a part of TRU made it their business to come out. Anyone who was on the elite list of the town got invited. Tamara was one of them. She wanted to be my plus one, but I didn’t want that, nor need that. Tamara wasn’t my woman, and I didn’t need people thinking that.

“What time do you have to be at your office? Don’t you have a seminar to go over with your interns?” I asked, avoiding the question.

She threw herself back on the bed, laying her head on the pillow.

“I’m letting my assistant handle it. I took the day off to spend with you. Stop avoiding the question, Weston. Don’t think I didn’t notice you throwing that random question in there.”

I let out a deep sigh. “Tam, listen, we have discussed this. I don’t mix my personal and work business together. This is an event where anybody and everybody will be there. We don’t need people speculating that we are something more than what it is.”

“And what are we, Weston?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest. “We do boyfriend and girlfriend shit all the time! I can’t continue to let you string me along like this! There are plenty of men out there who are asking for my hand in marriage, but I tell them no because of you. I want you to make that commitment,” she firmly insisted.

My eyebrow raised. If Tamara had the impression that us fucking each other once a week was her definition of boyfriend/girlfriend shit, she had the game twisted.

“Commitment? Tamara, if you have men out there wanting to marry you and build a life with you, then consider their offer. I told you that’s not something I want. You are doing yourself a disservice by telling them no. We are not on that level, and you know that. Stop breaking your heart.”

Tears pooled in her eyes.

Tamara and I had had this conversation before, but nothing to this extreme. She would also want more, but I always reminded her that my heart was closed off to commitment. There wasn’t a woman out there who could change my mind.

“Listen, I would never want you to miss out on what is out there for you. I told you before that marriage and kids are not one of my goals in life. If we need to stop doing whatever we are doing because it is confusing you, then I’m okay with that.”

“But Wes, you don’t think that your heart will ever change?”

I sighed. I was over the conversation. I said what I said, and whether she wanted to accept that was her decision. However, I knew there was nothing she could or anyone could do to change my heart.

“Tamara, I have to work in the morning. I have meeting after meeting tomorrow,” I lied. I needed space.

“Weston...”

“Tam—”

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