Page 75 of Church Girl
“Not your business.”
“It is,” she insists, shifting forward. It takes everything in me not to warn her to put one hundred feet between us at all times. “That’s the point. You didn’t consult me on who was watching over my daughter. Why do I have to hear about everything from her? You are responsible for telling me.”
I cock my head, scrutinizing her, and chuckle when I see she really means that shit.
“Let me ask you this. Do you call and inform me of who you leave Gia with when you go clubbing? No, you don’t,” I answer for her. “And I don’t trip because though you’re a trash-ass wife, I considered you a good mother and trusted your judgment, confident you wouldn’t leave G with anyone who would harm or neglect her. After being married to me and knowing me for all these years, you should know the same thing about me. I hired a person who cared for G and loved her like her own. If you’d get out your bag for two seconds, you’d admit that, especially since your daughter can’t stop talking about her. But you don’t give a fuck about none of that. You went on some control trip knowing you ain’t got any. You don’t run what goes over here in my house.”
Doesn’t she, though?
Aaliyah isn’t here anymore.
And while Sheree no longer has any say in what goes on at my house, she’s still for damn sure running my feelings, getting in my head. Dictating my actions and reactions. For the last couple of years, everything that happened with Sheree has colored my interactions with people, not just women.
Everything that had gone down with Aaliyah, hearing her father call another man her fiancé... I’d reacted based off my past with Sheree. How she’d lied to me. Betrayed me. Fucking used me. Had Aaliyah should’ve told me about her engagement? Hell yeah. But I also could’ve allowed her to explain, off the strength of our relationship. Off the strength of who we’d become to one another.
After being married to me and knowing me for all these years, you should know the same thing about me.
My accusation against Sheree bites me in the ass, and shame fills me. What I expected, I hadn’t offered Aaliyah the same grace. And now it’d been two weeks—two miserable-ass weeks—without her.
Once, I’d accused her of being a runner.
I had it wrong.
I’m the runner.
Running away from my feelings for her despite my resolve to not get emotionally involved.
Running away from the hurt and the risk of future betrayal.
Running away from myself.
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I blindly stare at a point over Sheree’s head. You’d think I’d eaten enough crow since Aaliyah had come into my life. Apparently, I had one more serving to shove down my throat.
“Von, I’ll drop the custody modification,” Sheree softly says, drawing my attention back to her.
I study her then bark out a laugh. “What you want me to say, Sheree? Thank you? Nah, shawty. I’m not thanking you for that when you should’ve never filed in the first place. You don’t get credit for doing something you should’vebeendone. Especially when we both know the reason you did it.”
Aaliyah.
Her jealousy over her assumption that we were fucking.
She hadn’t been wrong, but again, not her business.
“You used Gia as a pawn to press your fucked-up agenda, not sitting your ass down to even think about how it would affect her. How it would devastate her. You’ve had weeks to reconsider and do what was right. But because of a woman who was never a threat to you—because you’re not my wife anymore—you decided getting back at me was more important than your daughter’s well-being and security. You were ready to rock her world to the fucking foundation for that bullshit.”
“Von, I—” She thrusts her fingers through her hair, pulling the straightened strands back and away from her face. Blowing out a breath, she says, “You’re right. About everything. I guess since our separation and divorce I haven’t seen you with anyone, so I tripped and acted out of emotion. Hearing Gia go on and on about that woman and then seeing how you looked at her and acted all protective even though she was just supposed to be the nanny had me feeling some kinda way. I’m sorry. I...” She exhales again, and her hazel eyes soften, a plea in them. “I just want my family back. I fucked up. Fucked up bad. I wish you would forgive me, that we could get past it and make our family work again. I didn’t treat it or your love like they were everything to me, but they are. I can’t begin to list all of my regrets, but the top of the list is losing you.”
Part of me wants to laugh in her face. But I can’t. One, I’m tired of fucking fighting with her. And two, for the first time in years, I glimpse a peek of the woman I once loved. And I can’t throw her vulnerability back into her face. I can be a muthafucka, but I’m not intentionally cruel.
“Sheree, for one, I been forgiven you. But there ain’t no going back. Our divorce isn’t one hundred percent on you. Though how you decided to handle it, with a four-year-long affair, was fucked up, your reasons were valid. I did work a lot. Everything I did to get you, I stopped doing to keep you. I get that you were lonely, and yeah, some of that’s on me. But lying to me, giving another man that part of you that you promised only to me? Being irresponsible and letting him run up in you raw, saying fuck me and the consequences? Yeah, I got G out of that, but nah, shawty. We can’t go back. I could never trust you again. We both got to live with the consequences of our actions, but we don’t have to be miserable as hell doing it. This back-and-forth shit—” I wave a hand between us “—is only hurting G. We can’t give her a mother and father living together under one roof, but we can give her co-parents who at least don’t hate each other.”
Sheree lowers her head, and she doesn’t say anything for several long seconds. “I don’t have any choice but to accept it.”
When she lifts her head again, tears swim in her eyes, and I’d like to say they move me. But they don’t. Maybe one day I can get to the point where I don’t feel anything but a polite fondness when it comes to her. But today ain’t that day. All the shit she’s put me through is too close.
“I meant what I said about dropping the modification. Both of them.”
I nod. Still not going to thank her.
