Page 109 of Quasim III: King Inferno

“Nothing, Anjo.” He bit back his words and kept his hands in the pockets of his sweats.

I couldn’t do this again. Not after all we’ve gone through and how far we had come. When it came to Quasim Inferno, I loved his dirty draws, and I couldn’t stand on a damn thing when it came to him.

I nearly lost my life in his house and turned around to almost losing him. I refused for him to shut me out – again.

“Is this how it’s going to be?”

“Fuck you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about… this… acting like what we worked on and how far we have come didn’t happen.Reverting back to your ways. I get you almost lost your life and I’m not taking anything from tha?—”

“My fucking life was almost taken from me, Blair… he fucking tried to take my brother from me and then turned around and took Ellis from his brothers. He tried to murder my fucking niece in her own home… my fucking home burned to the ground, Blair… the home I brought my baby home in… shit is fucking gone and most of the memories … you want me to be happy? Should I fucking start tap dancing to make you feel better?”

“Yeah, I’m not doing this shit again… I cannot.” I closed the lid of my tumbler that he had gotten me that said Mrs. Inferno.

He watched as I grabbed the bag and tossed it on my shoulder. “Where are you going?”

“Since we going down memory lane of shityourefused to talk to me about, I gave up a man that wanted to give me the world for you. Every time I should have stood firm, I folded for you. Why? Because I fucking love you and want to heal you so bad. Quasim, I want to be happy, and I know that could exist. I refuse to go back to the same shit with you… so, you can sit here and shut everyone out again. I’m not doing it… I refuse. We can be doing good, and then you slump into this depression and won’t open up to me… I’m done with this shit.”

“I ain’t about to argue with you, Anjo,” he looked away, and then down at his phone.

“You won’t hear an argument out of me… I can promise you that. I do wish you the best, though, and hope eventually you can let someone in.”

“I let you in,” he muttered.

“And now you’re shutting me out.”

I started to remove my ring and wedding band and he looked up. “Don’t take that fucking ring off, Anjo.”

It took me a second, but I removed it and put it on the counter.

“I’ve never had a problem with being the one that chased you. Being patient because I knew loving a man like you was different, but worth it. Quasim, I’ve always been on your time, and it never bothered me because, Sim, you fucking deserve that.” I took a breath, holding onto the counter, and trying not to cry. “I needed you to learn that you deserved to be loved. That you didn’t have to earn it through pain or prove that you could survive without it.”

“Anj—”

“The problem with chasing someone is, they tend to get used to that. This pregnancy hasn’t been easy for me, I’ve been scared. Scared, but tip toeing around your feelings because I know you’re hurting, too. I need you to show up for me. Not in pieces, not eventually, I needed the shit now… and you haven’t. So, be in your head, but for me and my son? We’re not staying in this depressing ass house. Smoke and drink all you want, because I won’t be here.”

I walked past him, and he tried to grab me, and I snatched my arm from him. “My love…”

His eyes held pain, and I wanted to fold. I wanted to hold him, but I couldn’t do that anymore. “We have an appointment on Friday for my scan.”

After dropping Elijah to school, I went to the coffee shop in town and set up my laptop. It took everything for me not to break out in tears while driving away from the house.

I was tired.

This baby was eventually going to come, and I deserved to be at peace. Quasim let everything sit and pile up and kept it to himself. It boiled over and exploded in the kitchen, and that shouldn’t have been the case.

I’ve been the wife that asked him what was wrong, tried to pick his brain and be there. This wasn’t on me, and I wasn’t going to allow him to make me feel that way.

A facetime from Capri came in on my computer and I pulled her up on the screen. “Where are you?”

I laughed as she sipped her 7/11 slushie that she had been obsessed with during her pregnancy. My craving was avocado toast with a fried egg on the top and balsamic glaze. I had it every morning and I never got tired of it.

“Coffee shop doing some work for the studio.”

“What’s the matter?”

Capri, even over a video call, could tell that something was wrong. “Aside from what I texted you earlier?”

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