Page 5 of It's Love I'm After

“I’m not sure why we keep having these same conversations. I’m not ready to move in with you, nor am I comfortable with you having sleepovers at my house. I don’t want Caleb to get the wrong idea about what’s going on. I also want to make sure that Caleb understands that lying up with random?—”

“Hold the fuck on, Chaniya. I ain’t some random nigga, and Caleb is cool with me. How can we work on strengthening our shit if you keep throwing up these bogus ass roadblocks? I said I’m sorry about tracking your location. You know I love your ass, and I hate when you don’t tell me where you’re going or what’s happening when you get there,” Dedrick explains, causing me to shake my head at his possessive ass.

Every day I continue engaging in this relationship with Dedrick, I feel less like the independent woman I’ve always been. I honestly don’t know why I’m still dating Dedrick, because the more he talks, the more irritating he becomes. I think sleeping with Dedrick before knowing his character or background is why I’m in the situation. Dedrick comes from a long line of men who think tracking their women and keeping them on a tight leash is acceptable. The first time I met Dedrick’s parents, I found outthat his mother was forced to quit her job after having Dedrick’s older brother.

Hearing Dedrick’s father, Dedrick’s brother, and Dedrick quoting a woman’s purpose like some sort of mantra should have been my cue to end the budding relationship. Hell, I’m about to consider paying a random woman to entice Dedrick into her bed so he can deem her worthy of his bullshit and break up with me.

“How many children do you have?” I ask.

“None. How is that relevant to this conversation, though?”

“Your question just proved my point without me speaking on it, but let me clarify for you. You have no clue how important it is to not confuse young children with false narratives. You and I aren’t married, no matter how often I’ve let you slip between my legs. Therefore, I don’t want to confuse my impressionable son with untruths. In the two years we’ve been dating, you only tolerate Caleb, which makes it easy for me to keep him away from you. I’m also not looking for a man who can only occasionally entertain my son.”

*beep, beep*

“Hold on. I need to answer this call.”

“Who the fuck is calling you, Chaniya?” Dedrick barks, making me roll my eyes before answering my other line.

“Hey, Mom. Is everything okay with Caleb?”

“Of course it is. I know how to take care of a child, Chaniya Katia. You’re proof of my capabilities.”

Rubbing my temples, I close my eyes, not up for a debate with Mom after going comment for comment with Dedrick.

“I know, Mom. What can I do for you? Dedrick is on the other line.”

“Can you go to the store for me? I forgot I hadn’t gotten a chance to do so after work before picking Caleb up. I have a list and can send it to your phone.”

“Sure. Send it over, and I’ll head out in a few minutes.”

“Great. Thanks.”

When loud rap flows in my ear, I sigh before announcing my return to this unnecessary and outlandish conversation with Dedrick.

“I’m back,” I say.

“Who was that? Why did you leave me on hold for so long? It better not have been another nigga, Chaniya. I ain’t in the business of sharing my bitch with another nigga.”

Ugh. This nigga.

“Unless you’re the man dating multiple people, I don’t know what bitch you’re referring to.”

“Man, chill. Who was on your line interrupting our conversation?”

“Last I checked, your name isn’t listed under father on my birth certificate, nor is it listed as the account holder with my cell phone provider. I gotta go, though. Bye, Dedrick.”

“Wa—” Disconnecting the call, I stare at the space above my TV while trying to quiet The Spinner’s song from 1974, echoing in my mind about love-loving nobody.

“Now, God, I know you and I aren’t the best of friends, but if you can find a way to remove Dedrick from my life, I’ll start praying more regularly. I’m growing very tired of this nigga.”

“Damn, Mom. Why the hell did you have to be so specific about the brand of fabric softener, and why the hell did they put it up so high?” Ranting, I stretch, trying to reach the Downy Unstoppables on the top shelf, damn near falling into the shelf.

“Let me help you before you hurt yourself.”

Do the stanky leg, do the stanky leg . . .

My pussy begins chanting when the deep, gravelly masculine voice pierces my ears, instantly causing the hairs on my arms to stand up. Straightening my body, I stand to my full height in time to see a long, muscular, and heavily tatted arm moving toward my intended object.

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