Page 5 of Someone Like You

“Well, of course, it won’t be a stranger, Casimir. It would be a family member from one of our house servants who would take care of our family.”

“Beth, that’s our responsibility. Besides, that’s what makes a family—all the ups and downs and the challenging times. It’s what built my bond closer to my parents.”

Bethany made a scoffing noise and shook her head. “Casimir, there’s still so much you have to learn, sweetheart.” She gave me a quick peck on the lips and straightened my tie. I was getting ready to leave for work, but I wanted to slow up and have a sensual morning of lovemaking.

“Well, we might not agree on that, but I know we can agree on how we go about making those little people,” I said, grabbing her behind.

Beth reached around and smacked my hands. “What are you talking about, Casimir?” I hated it when she adopted the whiny voice.

“Girl, we’ll have lots of fun getting you pregnant.” Her face had grown pale as she jerked out of my hold. “What’s wrong, Beth?”

“How can I say this?” she pondered, pulling the belt on her silk red robe tighter. “I thought perhaps we could adopt or maybe hire a surrogate.”

“Why would we want to do that? What’s wrong, baby? Are you infertile?”

“Heavens, no!” she balked. “I just don’t understand why I would want to take my body through something of that nature. Look at me. My figure is perfect. I don’t want any blemishes or imperfections. My hips are not made for carrying a child, and I cannot begin to imagine having stretch marks on them.”

I laughed at first because I thought she was playing.

“You’re silly.”

“No. I’m serious,” Bethany stated hotly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked, staring at my wife as if she had grown two heads.

“What have I told you about that language, Casimir?” Beth chided.

“I’m not your child, Beth. If you want to boss someone around, I suggest you have kids, or better yet . . . call one of your house servants and get them to do that shit.”

I turned around, grabbed my keys, and stormed from the house.

That had been five years ago, and there were still no children. That remained a point of contention between us. She was starting to become interested in having one child, and I wanted a few children, but we could not agree on how to have them.

I thought it was an idiotic idea to hire someone to do something we could do perfectly fine on our own. If either of ushad an issue procreating, then I would consider the option, but Bethany had drawn the line in the sand.

Sighing, I thought back to my meeting with Dr. Champagne. I had no idea what it was about her that made me want to share my true feelings the way that I had. Admitting those things about my wife had been troubling when I first said them, yet so freeing. Not once had I ever bashed Bethany or spoken down about her to anyone. Instead, I was always the first to come to her defense, and only in private did I dare confront her about her behaviors. That was what a husband was supposed to do, right?

The confession about Bethany’s behavior had only been the tip of the iceberg. Perhaps the more astonishing deviation from my typical behavior had been discussing love. Not once had I ever indicated to anyone that Bethany did not love me. Not even to myself would I admit it. Yet today, I had. Today, I longed for what I had known existed but something that I did not have.

I longed for something that eluded Beth and me, but I refused to acknowledge it. Today, my heart yearned for the love of a good woman, the love that would build me strong and recognize and acknowledge me for the man I was, not the one she thought I should be.

And then, not for the first time, I wondered what it would be like to come home to a woman like Dr. Champagne. A woman who made no apologies for who she was. Her intellect, her pride in her ethnicity, and her love of her culture as evidenced in the paintings hanging in the outer sanctum of her office. It also showed in the way she styled her beautiful hair, which was always twisted, braided, or in a natural afro when not pressed out.

Dr. Champagne wore beautiful African-inspired scarves boldly around her neck and other ethnic clothing. She was a woman who laughed when I shared my corny jokes rather than roll her eyes. Often, I would slip a joke in, here or there, simplyto see Dr. Champagne’s full lips turn up in a smile, revealing that slight overbite. The joy I received from that would be short-lived as soon as Beth spoke up and chided me for wasting the good doctor’s time and making me look foolish in front of her.

I finally turned off the ignition and prepared to go into what was supposed to be my sanctuary. The only peace that I would find beyond those doors was if Bethany was out. No matter where I was in the house, she would find me to nag me about something. It didn’t matter if I was in my man cave or on the toilet; Beth would hunt me down to complain about something.

I had not bothered to pull around to the four-car garage. It would make for an easier and quicker escape if she were home. This way, I could simply run out of the front door, hop into the car, and find a place to get a brief reprieve from her nagging. And yet, if she were not home, as soon as she arrived, she would be nagging me about leaving my car parked out front like a common servant. I chuckled when I realized I no longer cared as much.

Casimir

Ipaced my office back and pulled my fingers through my meticulously groomed beard. With one hand in my trouser pocket and the other fingering the screen of my phone, I released a frustrated sigh. Bethany had sent me a text message about an event we needed to attend tonight. Another night of fake smiles, fake breasts, and fake people crowded into a room to determine whose bank account was bigger while everyone was trying to coax a favor out of someone else.

I hated these things even more than my father had. Yet, the difference was General Perez embraced the duties that were placed upon him; to me, it was an unnecessary requirement. More often, I found myself wondering how I had lost control of my life and how I could regain it. These thoughts had come more frequently when I started visiting Dr. Giselle Champagne. Several thoughts had popped into my head since my sessions with her. Thoughts I wouldn’t have dared thought before.

Grimacing, I thought about the one thing I had withheld from the doctor. My marriage was an arrangement made by my father and Bethany’s father. True, Bethany had been enamored with me upon meeting me, but the feeling had not been mutual.She was a beautiful woman, one I found myself attracted to, but she was nothing more than a passing interest.

She was someone that I wouldn’t have minded fucking and then going on about my business. She was someone who would have been forgettable had it not been for who she was. My mistake had been asking her out on a date, followed by another one a week later, all with the intention of fucking her.

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