Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility) (19 page)

He rose to his feet. “I did not fuck Da—”

I interrupted, “And then you had the nerve to dick slap Brian Thompson, who I have never dreamed of touching. You are such a hypocrite and I can’t believe I told you I loved you! I can’t believe I trusted you with my…heart!” Once again my words were barely audible.

“You haven’t trusted me with shit!” Azmir shouted with an unknown emotion glaring in his eyes. Eyes that suddenly didn’t peer into me with adoration or desire. I saw frustration. Exasperation. Near brokenness. “You never lower your guards long enough to do it! I didn’t know what you felt for me until two days ago when you said you loved me!” Azmir screamed so loud that I jumped in my shoes.

His words ripped the air from my lungs. His fury gouged my heart. How could he act as though he had no clue of my feelings for him? We’ve been together, going full steam ahead ever since Atlantic City—even when we weren’t physically together. I felt shattered, completely broken.

“So, you kiss her?”
He won’t put this on me.

With his head buried in his hands, he muttered, “It was fucked up and unplanned, but yes. I did.” I gasped so deep, I felt my lungs were going to explode. Learning about it was one thing, but hearing him admit it was a totally different type of discovery. There was an expectant pause before he continued. “She was clear about her desire to be with me. She was consistent, and even though I felt like shit once I realized what was happening, I knew it was because she showed interest.” His voice grew silent with each word and I knew they were indicative of his true feelings.

There was silence for a while.

“I don’t want her.”

“But she wants you,” I quickly retorted, needing him to know how I read the situation. It was my reality, my doom. “…and she will continue to be clear and forceful in her pursuits and when she finally captures your heart, because I can’t give you the type of emotions you say you need, where will that leave us?”


I DON’T WANT HER!
” he roared.

Why is he repeating himself?

Then it hit me!

“You know, don’t you?” I felt my eyes squint and my mouth drop. “My God, you know!” I couldn’t believe it.

He looked at me with perplexed eyes. It was almost intimidating. “I. Know. What?”

“You know that she would be a viable candidate should this thing between us fail—if
I
fail
you
.” My thoughts extended, pushing my realizations. “You’re giving her soft rejections because you know she’s falling for you and don’t want to ruin that…just in case,” I said just above a whisper. I was shocked by my own revelation.

He scoffed, “I haven’t dated her or fucked her. How can she be 
falling
without me participating? You sound ridiculous, Rayna!” 

“Azmir, she was in the bathroom crying at your
weak
ass excuse as to why you two can’t pursue a relationship. That kiss meant a lot to her,” The tears started to fall again. “…apparently similar to what it does to me.” My body started to tremble, though I fought hard for steely veneer.

“It didn’t mean shit to me and neither does she!” he insisted.

I cock my head to the side, resembling contemplation. “Oh, yeah? Well, why is she always around? Why does she fly across country on the hopes of intersecting with you?”

“She has a PR firm with Shayna Bacote. They are trying to contract me as a client. This is
all
business, Rayna!” His lengthy frame moved into me, roaring as he pushed his index finger toward the floor.

“Then why don’t you refuse their business as a conflict of interest? You want me to show more possession over you? Call her…right now and tell her you’ve decided and decline their offer!”

He tightly closed his eyes and deeply exhaled. “I can’t, Rayna,” his voice much lower and calm.

My heart clenched and my body numbed. “Why?” I breathed out.

“Because I’ve already signed the fucking contract.” His eyes met mine apologetically, telling me that this was a no win situation.

More silence as I stood there and cried my eyes out.

“We are not going to let my business interfere with our personal life, Rayna. Do you know how absurd this all sounds?” He bent down to force my gaze to his and when I looked him in the face, I gave nothing. I had nothing to give. He waited a beat. “Please, baby, say something,” he pleaded through a hoarse throat.

“Why haven’t you told her we are more than roommates? Why haven’t you told me you love me?” I whispered over my tears.

The look in his eyes made me feel that there was more going on than what he was going to share. And that was the cause of my needing to bring this whole ordeal to an end. It was enough that I was in over my head, in love with this man. His robust courting had pushed me to the cliff. And that look in his eyes made the decision for me—that I couldn’t compromise commitment for companionship. Mediocrity just wouldn’t do. I didn’t want to give myself to a man who had a plan B. I didn’t want to feel I wasn’t good enough for complete devotion. For exclusivity. If I died alone avoiding hurt from pseudo-fealty, then in that moment I accepted my fate.

I was defeated. I was done.

I turned to head back to the master suite and packed two full suitcases, grabbed as much of Azna’s things, too and left Azmir in the very same place he stood his foyer. He didn’t chase me or try to talk me down. He tried to help with my bags and I snatched away, forbidding him from coming near me.

He only murmured through clenched teeth, “You won’t get too far. I won’t let you.”

Manny was on the elevator when it had arrived. He helped me to my car and I was on my way to Redondo Beach.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was nearly three in the morning when I arrived to my house in Redondo Beach. The place had a nimbus of abandonment and smelled of vacant dwellings. After unpacking Azna’s things to at least get him comfortable, I showered and made my way to my bed. I pulled back the stale covers and crawled in, hoping to fall asleep right away, but when I tried to find comfort on my stiff mattress, my blues started setting again.
This isn’t Azmir’s oversized, plush mattress
.
Neither does it smell of him.
I tried tricking my mind into believing I was at a hotel, on neutral grounds. I’m not sure if that helped or not, but I did fall asleep
eventually
.

My alarm went off, startling me from my sleep. I jumped from my pillow, trying to convince myself that I had gotten more than ten minutes of sleep. The thought of calling out crossed my mind, but I decided not to because it would leave me too much time to think about my breakup with Azmir. I got up to let Azna handle his business while I surveyed my home. Since moving in with Azmir, I’d stopped by from time to time to check on the place and do a little housekeeping, but now that I’m back, I regret not doing more. I figured that it all had to wait until later because I needed to get ready for work.

Day one of my breakup was painful, however, not as bad as I’d thought. The morning flew by and my lunch hour arrived quickly, much to my surprise. There was a knock at the door. It was Sharon telling me I had a guest. My heart jumped into my stomach, fearing it was Azmir. I took a deep swallow then gave her a nod, granting permission to let them in. Much to my disappointment, it was Brian Thompson.

“Good afternoon.” Thompson looked tense. The wrinkling of his forehead and the squareness of his shoulders told it all.

“Good afternoon. Is everything okay, Thompson?” I dipped my chin in anticipation.

“I hope so. I wondered if I could get a moment of your time and thought the lunch hour would be the most opportune. Is it a good time?” he asked before taking a seat. His apprehensive approach concerned me.

What is this about?
I wondered. Then I was immediately hit with a revelation.
Crap…Azmir!

“Sure,” I gestured toward the seat in front of my desk. “Look, Thompson, I apologize for that embarrassing episode the other night. I have no explanation or justification for—”

“I know you don’t and I appreciate your compassion, but I need to know
what is the story between you and Azmir Jacobs
. Is he your boyfriend? Is he the jealous type? Because he was pretty threatening a couple of nights ago.”

“Did he threaten you?” The hairs on the back of my neck straightened. I’d become embarrassed.

“Not directly. He seems like the savvy type that knows how to without crossing the line.”

I sighed. Azmir was really pissed that night, so I was relieved; it could’ve ended much more cyclonic than it did. I didn’t forget about Brian’s place card trickery and neither did Azmir, I’m sure.

“Again, I apologize. He obviously got the wrong impression of what was going on.”

“No, he was one hundred percent clear on what was happening. A man knows when another man is on the prowl.”

I squinted my eyes. “Huhn?”

“Rayna, I will admit that I am attracted to you and would like the opportunity to get to know you better. It’s been on my agenda since the first day I came here to start data sharing. It’s taken some time for you to soften to me and now I’m viewing Azmir as a problem. You’ve never said he was your boyfriend, but by the looks of it two nights ago, he is. Not to mention his abrupt introduction at the charity ball. So, I was hoping to get a straight answer from you, hence my visit.”

I swallowed hard trying to process all he’d just said. He did just put it out there, he was interested. As much as I was available at the time, I had no interest in taking on a relationship with Brian. There was something about him that didn’t work for me. Thompson was too forward, more aggressive than I preferred. There was something hidden beneath his forcefulness. I’d just never invested the time to figure out what it was.

Too wrapped up in A.D. land.

Well, no more!

“Well, Brian,” I hummed, affording myself moments of delay while assembling an answer.  “…your question has a convoluted answer…and here it is: Azmir and I had a weird and rare set up. It was serious and exclusive…for me. We’ve recently decided to take a breather, but even with that—I am
in no position to take on a relationship with a colleague.” I raised my finger to prevent him from cutting me off again. His scowl in return reaffirmed my issues with his level of aggression “I know you’ve said you wouldn’t view it as a conflict of interest, but I do and will not waver from that.” I paused to give him a chance to speak.

It took a few beats, but he eventually spoke. “Had? You and Jacobs
had
a weird set up?” he seemed stunned.

“Yes,
had
. It’s not something I’m prepared to discuss with a colleague, but in the spirit of being honest I shared that. I will also say that I appreciate your tasteful transparency,” I gave him a tight smile and a gentle nod.

A long sigh escaped his mouth. I knew my words were raw, but it was my truth. A myriad of expressions crossed his face in the span of seconds. Why was this such a big deal for Thompson? I just didn’t understand his persistence. Perhaps if I hadn’t been AzmirJacobsdized, I would’ve found Thompson’s aggression charming. However, I was pretty banged up by my recent decision and cause of leaving Azmir to care.

“I don’t agree, but I’ll respect your decision and will back down.
But
the minute you change your mind—”

I interrupted, “…Or the minute
you
ditch Smith, Katz & Adams as a client, I know where to find you.”

He gave a sensual chortled and licked his lips. I could tell he wanted to say more, but I left little opportunity for more to be said. It was an improbable possibility.

When Thompson walked out of my office door a small part of me wondered if I had made the right decision. I questioned if I should have explored a relationship just to see if things were different and less complicated with him. However, a bigger part of me felt that Azmir was my soul mate, if there were ever such a thing. He owned me, mind, body and soul. And I’d just lost out on him.

That evening, I went grocery shopping to try to stock up the house. I cooked with the blues and barely ate, trying to fight back my tears. I felt so out of place in my own home. The house was quiet and lifeless, so I decided to find music to help fill in the space. I went to my storage closet in the guest bedroom and pulled out a box of CDs I’d collected over the years. That’s when I found the CD that contained the theme song to my heartbreak: Blu Cantrell’s “
I’ll Find a Way.
” I made my way back to the living room, popped the CD in, turned the volume up loud enough to fill the entire room and absorbed the lyrics. She sang the words of my wounded soul.

Blu seemed to sum up my pain in the second verse, but the entire song matched my sentiment. I was prepared to get over Azmir Divine Jacobs, the man who forcefully accessed my world, captured my heart, and had shaken the essence of me, leaving me forever changed.

These lyrics mirrored my anguish. I broke down
again
in my living room. As much as I wanted to call him—just to hear his voice and to know he hadn’t moved on with his life as though we never happened—I could not call or reach out in any way. I’d made my decision and had to stick with it in order to get through the pain that would some day neutralize.

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