“He’s a liar and a cheater. I don’t want him,” Kia muttered, her lip curling in disgust.
“I know you’re pregnant and going through a lot emotionally. But Shelly, why do you want him?” I wondered. When she looked at me, blinking back tears, I continued. “Relationships are hard work, but they are practically impossible when you can’t trust the person that you’re with. He cheated on you during the most vulnerable time in your life. I don’t know your situation. But you have to ask yourself is this what you want?”
“He’s the father of my child,” she whispered, shaking her head. “This isn’t how this is supposed to be.”
“No. It isn’t,” I told her, lightly touching her shoulder. “You should be home resting. Not out tracking down the woman your husband started a relationship with under false pretenses. Then instead of doing the work, getting into therapy and reassuring you that it’ll never happen again, he’s calling and leaving desperate messages for Kia. You don’t deserve that.”
She was silent, but she shook her head.
“At the end of the day, you have to do what’s best for you,” I said gently. “We don’t know each other so you can take my advice with a grain of salt—but I say leave the asshole.” I shrugged. “But you have to do what works for you and your life. Call a therapist tomorrow and work it out in therapy. But ask yourself: Can you trust him again? Do you want him to stay with you out of obligation? Would you be happy with that type of man and that type of relationship? Would you want your child to learn about relationships from seeing how Owen operates? Would you want your child to learn what they should accept from seeing your relationship with Owen?”
Seemingly lost in thought, Shelly wiped her eyes. “Wow.”
We stood outside for ten more minutes while Shelly asked Kia a few questions that she wanted to know. When they finished, Shelly went to her car and drove home. Kia’s mood was noticeably different, and she was ready to go home. So, I hugged my best friend and then we climbed into our separate taxis.
When I got dropped off, I handed the driver some cash and hopped out. My heels clicked on the concrete sidewalk as I made my way to my door.
“Ciara saw that article you wrote about hearing the dysfunctional relationships of your neighbors,” Darius called out.
“And?” I replied, pulling my keys out of my bag.
“Well, where do you get off talking about us?”
I lifted my shoulders and gave him a smug smile. “I didn’t name names so if you read it and you feel like your relationship is dysfunctional, that’s something you two need to work out—in therapy.”
“Leave us out of your nasty ass column.”
“I’m just talking about things that people experience in life.”
Darius put his hands on his hips. “You really think you’re the voice of the people? Hooker T. Washington?”
I narrowed my eyes and held in my laugh. “How long have you been holding on to that one?” I asked as I unlocked my door.
“I thought of it yesterday, but I didn’t see you,” he replied proudly.
I shook my head. “Get a life, Darius.”
“I have a life.”
“Get a better one.” I walked into my loft and slammed the door behind me.
As soon as I kicked my shoes off, I giggled to myself. Hooker T. Washington!
I showered and prepared for bed. It was still early—just after ten o’clock—so I planned to curl up and watch one of my favorite movies. Connecting the charger to the phone, I was just about to place it on the nightstand when it vibrated.
Saint Anderson: My sisters loved their gift. They are fans of your work. My mom wanted to know why she didn’t get one, so now I have to get you to sign it for her before our date.
Our date.
It was the first time he called it a date and it brought the biggest smile to my face.
Zola Patterson: I’m so glad that they loved getting the book. And I will sign one special for your mom.
My eyes widened as soon as it started vibrating in my hand. Clearing my throat, I stared at Saint’s name and phone number. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the butterflies fluttering in my belly, I answered the call. “Hello?”
“Zola Patterson,” Saint greeted me, the sexy rasp of his voice sucking the air from my lungs.
I closed my eyes and felt the sound of his voice all throughout my body. “Saint Anderson,” I returned. “How are you?”
“I’m tired, but all is good over here. How are you?”
“I’m well! It was an eventful, but early night. Got kicked out of Black Lotus. Had a session with a pregnant lady. And now I’m stretched out in the middle of my bed.”
“I didn’t wake you, did I?
“No, not at all,” I assured him. “I was just about to watch a movie. What are you up to? I’m surprised you aren’t working.”
“It’s my full-time job that I work seven o’clock in the morning to seven o’clock at night. Today I worked my part-time job and I got off early. Came home, cooked dinner, and while I was relaxing, I thought I’d take a chance and see if you were available.”
“Well I’m glad you did,” I told him as I got comfortable on my pillow.
“Me, too. But um…” There was a small pause, and I was almost sure he was smiling into the phone like I was. “You said something about you being kicked out of Black Lotus,” he recalled. “You’re not just going to breeze by that.”
“It’s not as crazy as it sounds,” I laughed. “Basically, my best friend and I were kicked out because our laughter was a little disruptive.”
“What happened?”
“She was dating a man who lied and said he was single, but he had a whole wife. The wife showed up for answers or to put a name with a face or…” I stared at the ceiling and took a breath. “Honestly, I’m not really sure what she was looking for. But she was so mad—understandably—but she said the funniest thing and I couldn’t stop laughing. The whole thing was just so ridiculous that I couldn’t keep it together.”
“Okay wait, what?”
I explained the moment that set me off and he chuckled right along with me.
“She said you’re cheating on me with a bitch that can’t see,” I squealed, the laughter rippling through me. “Saint! The look on Kia’s face was priceless. It wasn’t the fact that the woman had called her a bitch. It was the part about her not being able to see!”
His laugh sounded like a bubble bath felt—warm, relaxing, and oh so good.
“So that was the highlight of my day. Tell me about the highlight of yours.”
“Honestly, this.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“Getting off early and being able to relax.”
“Oh, yeah.” I rolled onto my back and exhaled. “That makes sense. You work a lot. I thought I worked a lot, but your schedule seems even crazier than mine.”
“It’s a busy schedule, but I manage.”
“When do you have downtime?”
“I don’t have much, but I make the most of what I do have. I go out from time to time.”