Page 33 of So This Is Love

“Sorry,” the man says.

He turns and moves his cart, maneuvering it from the middle of the aisle to off to the side, like it should have been in thefirst place. The action gives me a glimpse of his face and I immediately feel sick in the pit of my stomach.

Why does the universe hate me?

I don’t know how I didn’t recognize him immediately, and I hate that I hadn’t, because if I had there is no way that I would have said a damn thing to him. When he sees me recognition hits him as well, but the unease and revulsion that I feel are clearly not reciprocated based on the way he greets me.

“Laila, hey it’s good to see you.”

The shock from the audacity of those words coming from Devin, as if I am an old friend and not an ex who he manipulated and lied to for years, is immediate. The shock quickly turns into anger and instead of acknowledging him, or his words, I start to walk past him.

“C’mon Laila don’t be like that,” Devin says in a tone meant to soothe but only makes my blood boil more.

I halt my steps whirling around to face him.

“Don’t be like that?” I seethe. “You don’t get to tell me what to do or feel after the shit you put me through. Matter fact, don’t talk to me at all.”

Devin is one of those men who knows he’s attractive. His hazel eyes and loose hair texture has given him no shortage of women who have boosted his ego in his life, and unfortunately for over two years I was one of them. The girl on his arm who was ‘lucky’ to be the one he chose to be with.

Devin and I met at a networking event for small businesses in Rosewood. I had just graduated college and joinedLovely Dayfull time and Cass asked me to go to the event with her. During social hour, Devin approached me and struck up a conversation that led to an exchange in contact information and then later a relationship that lasted for over two years. Things started out great, he was sweet, attentive and charming. He said and did all the right things that made me fall for him, made me fall in lovewith him. And then somewhere along the way it all changed. He became distant, and secretive, and when I would call him out on it he would tell me it was ‘nothing’ or ‘in my head’ so I brushed it off. I believed him until one day he told me that he had a baby on the way with someone else. A real life Confessions Part II.

I couldn’t fully see it while I was living it, but once the rose colored glasses were off I saw just how toxic our relationship was. The times where he would invalidate my feelings and cause me to not trust my intuition. The ways he made me feel small in our relationship.

“I know you’re probably upset,” Devin says. “But there’s no need to be dramatic, it was all a misunderstanding-”

At those words I see red and I know that I need to get very far away from him before I catch a charge for laying hands on him in the middle of this store. There are so many things I want to say, including that he’s a bitch ass piece of shit and I hope his dick falls off. But I don’t say that.

I take a second to calm my rage enough to simply say. “Go to hell, Devin.”

This time I don’t stop when I turn to walk away, putting as much distance as I can between me and him to buy the contents of my basket and get the fuck out of this store.

***

“Hey,” I say when the FaceTime call connects.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Bryce asks.

He’s laid out on his couch, relaxed, one arm behind his head and the quiet sounds of his TV in the background.

“What do you mean?” I ask. “I didn’t even say two words, I’m fine.”

I desperately want that to be true, but even hours after my run in with Devin I feel unsettled. Like he came and infiltrated the safe bubble I’ve been building for the past eight months that we’ve been broken up. One run in and all the anger and pain that I thought I was over, came flooding back. I thought that I had tucked that all away when I answered the phone, but clearly not.

“Nah something’s bothering you, and that’s not nothing. What’s going on?”

“What makes you think I’m not fine,” I ask with a huff, frustrated that he was able to read me so easily.

“It’s not a specific thing. But after all the times we’ve talked, something is different. Something or someone has dimmed your light, and I don’t like that shit.”

After I told Bryce that I’m a bad texter, our conversations have shifted to mostly talking on the phone. Nearly everyday we FaceTime and talk about our days, nothing specific or special, just easy, friendly conversation. Sometimes it's only a few minutes other times it’s a few hours, but it has become a part of my day that I look forward to

“I just,” I pause and take a deep breath. “I just don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Aight, that’s fair but if you do, I’m here to listen.”

I nod, unable to form words because all the anger and irritation I felt has now morphed into appreciation and gratitude of my emotions being seen without having to verbally express them, of someone paying enough attention to notice when things aren’t as they usually are. That small act has caused a tightness in my chest and a lump in my throat that doesn’t ease until Bryce starts talking again.

“A friend of mine was telling me about a new sushi spot downtown and I thought you might want to go.”

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