Page 79 of Girl, We Go Together
I leaned forward, placing my elbows on my knees.
“He did something recently?”
Briefly, over the phone, she went over the history of her and her baby daddy. Of course, everything she shared was surface-level, but I appreciated her for telling me anyway. She hesitated, and that pause said everything.
“He took Oriana to a baby shower today,” she said finally. “He told me it was for a family member, but it was his baby shower. His and… hers.”
I didn’t say anything at first. I was processing her pain. One thing I was lost about was whoherwas. But I didn’t want to interrupt her getting things off her chest. I figured that somewhere later in this conversation, there would be a space for any questions I had.
“I saw the pictures on Instagram.” Cayla’s voice cracked, so she took a minute to get herself together before continuing. “Itwas him,her, my daughter, and his other two kids, all dressed up like a happy family. They were wearing matching outfits and everything.”
She wiped at her eyes fast, like she didn’t want me to notice, but I did.
“Mama, who is thisher?” I finally asked.
She sighed out a breath and then started chuckling. I didn’t see how any of the shit was funny, but she seemed to find the humor in the situation. Cayla’s laugh was shaky like the ones that come from the middle of your chest when you’re trying not to break.
“Her name is Brandi. She is the bitch who used to be one of my close friends. She was my roommate in college. She is the one who secretly wanted my baby daddy the whole time I was with him…” She paused. “I guess she got him now.”
“Damn, that’s crazy,” was the only response I could offer.
“You wanna know what’s really crazy?” She turned and stared me directly in the eyes. That pain in her brown orbs was honestly pissing me off. She quickly turned away before continuing. “I’m not even mad that he moved on. I’m mad that he keeps putting my baby in the middle of his mess. She’s one and a half, Kass. She shouldn’t be meeting a new sibling every time she goes to see him.”
“That man doesn’t sound like he’s thinking of any of that. He probably thinks he’s just living life and winning, but that kind of stuff always comes back around.”
She looked at me with her eyes full of tears and exhaustion.
“Do you think I’m stupid for still letting it get to me?”
I shook my head. “Nah. You loved him. That doesn’t just switch off. But you are being honest about how it hurt. You've got to let that pain out. That’s how it starts to fade.”
For a long moment, she just stared at me like she was trying to see if I really meant it. Then her shoulders dropped, and just like that, some of that tightness left her body.
“I hate that I ever let him make me feel small,” she whispered.
I sat a bit closer to her. I was careful with my notion because I knew she was in a fragile state.
“You’re not small, Cayla. You just forgot who you are for a minute.”
She blinked at me, and her lip trembled just a little before she smiled.
“You always did have a way with words.”
“Nah, I just know what it looks like when a woman deserves better.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but it let my last statement hang in the air a bit. She leaned into me and then rested her head against my chest. I wrapped my arm around her without thinking. For the first time that night, her mind seemed at ease. She didn’t respond to my comment, and she didn’t have to. The room spoke for her, the softness of the moment, the safety I was offering her, and the way her heartbeat slowed against me let me know she was calming. While we sat in silence, I realized something I hadn’t said out loud yet: I wasn’t just helping her heal, I was falling hard for the woman she was becoming after the storm.
I don’t know how long we sat like that, but I could tell the heaviness on her soul was starting to lift. The movie on the television switched to reruns ofLaw and Order: SVU, and that’s when I suddenly remembered.
“Damn,” I said, sitting up a little. “I almost forgot I brought a couple bottles of wine.”
Cayla looked up. Her eyes were still soft from everything we’d talked about.
“Yeah, you did have a bag coming in.”
She leaned off me and looked toward the door. Surely enough, the black liquor store bag was right beside her entryway closet.
“Yeah,” I said as I walked over to the bag, “I came prepared. But somebody got me all emotional before I could even pull it out.”
