Can't Let Go - A Contemporary BWWM Romance (17 page)

“That’s,
um, great,” he said.

To
my pleasant surprise, he walked off. I didn’t even have to tell him I was busy.
Tears, female tears, must have made him terribly uncomfortable.

I
glanced at my calendar. There were only four more weeks until the wedding.
Four more weeks until I’d lose Antoine forever.
Four more
weeks until I would be forced to move on with my life with no backup plan of
any sort.

Selfishly,
I wanted to make it work with Kevin. Doesn’t every girl believe she’s going to
be the one to change a man?
To fix all of his issues?
He was everything I’d ever wanted in a guy, and I was going to prove to him
that I could be everything he needed in a girl.

I
dug my phone from my purse and switched it on for the first time since
Saturday. The screen instantly filled with various alerts. As I rifled through
them all, I counted no less than four missed calls from Kevin and five texts.

He likes me,
I thought as I smiled and clutched
my phone against my chest. He’s got to, or else he wouldn’t have contacted me
so much.

Hope
flooded my every pore as I read his texts and listened to his voicemails. They
were all apologies. They were all begging me to call him and talk to him. How
could I say no?

I
decided right then and there that I was going to pop over to his place right
after work. Then I remembered what I looked like. I couldn’t let him see me
looking all crazy. I had no other choice but to go home after work, shower, and
then stop over at his place with dinner in hand. That sounded like a much
better idea.

As
I carried two hot, plastic bags of Chinese takeout towards Kevin’s apartment, I
crossed my fingers that he was going to be home. I was taking a chance, I knew
that, and I wanted it to go smoothly.

I
imagined the smile that would spread across his face the moment he saw me. I
imagined him wrapping his big, strong, manly arms around me, squeezing me
tight, and pulling me into his warm embrace. We’d laugh and smile and say our
quick apologies and move on.

In
my head, that’s exactly how it was going to go. That’s how it was supposed to
go. It could go no other way. That’s why when I approached his building, the
last thing I expected to see was Antoine standing on the front stoop.

From
half a block away, I saw him look at me. He turned his entire body the other
way, as if to avoid me. He pulled his phone from his pocket and pretended to
check something. He was going to completely ignore me if he could.

“Antoine,”
I said, slightly breathless, as I approached. “Hi!”

As
excited
as I was to see Kevin, I was suddenly excited
to see Antoine as well. And the fact that he wanted nothing to do with me made
me feel like I had to prove something to him. I would’ve given anything for him
to look at me the way he used to, just one time.

He
turned towards me, slowly, lowered his phone, and stuck his hands in his
pockets. His face was solemn and lacked any sort of expression I could even attempt
to read.

“Why
are you here, Rashida?” he asked. I could sense a little bit of anger on his
end.

“What
are you talking about?” I asked with a laugh. I held up the white plastic bags
filled with now lukewarm Chinese takeout and showed him. “I’m bringing dinner
to Kevin.”

Antoine
rolled his eyes. “Why am I suddenly running into you all over the place? It’s
like I can’t go anywhere anymore. I can’t even stand outside my apartment
without seeing you.”

“Hey,”
I said with frown. “I did not come here hoping to see you.”

I
could tell he didn’t believe me at all.

“I
swear,” I insisted. “How would I know you’d be standing out here when I walked
up?”

He
raised his eyebrows and scuffed his shoe on the ground. He knew I had a point.

“I’m
getting married in a month, Rashida,” he said. “Don’t do this to me. Please.”

“Don’t
do what?” I was confused.

“Toy
with me,” he said. His eyes turned towards mine and we locked gazes. “You
really hurt me. And just when I’m about to move on from you forever, you’re
popping up all over the place. It can’t all be coincidence. It’s happening way
too much lately.”

I
laughed nervously. “Maybe it’s a sign?”

“I’m
not joking, Rashida,” he said through gritted teeth. “I love Ayla. I’m going to
marry her.”

“Are
you happy, Antoine?” I asked. “Like really, really happy? Or are you just
trying to get over me?”

“Wow,”
he said. “I can’t believe you’d actually say that. Um, I’m extremely happy,
Rashida.”

His
words stung, but I knew deep down I needed to hear them. He had moved on, and I
knew I needed to as well.

“I’m
happy for you, Antoine. I really am,” I said. “But I guess I’d be lying if I
didn’t admit that I always thought we’d end up together.”

He
looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mix of rage and hurt. “Why would you
tell me that? Why would you say that right now?”

“I’m
just being honest,” I said. “To find out that you had moved on, that you were
getting married, just hit me like a ton of bricks.”

“You
didn’t want me before,” he said. “Why now?”

“I
don’t want you, Antoine,” I lied. I’d be doing a lot of that lately.

He
shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

“Okay
so maybe seeing you with someone else sort of made me realize that I’d thrown
away a good thing,” I admitted. “I’ve had a year to date other people and
figure out what I want out of life. My life hasn’t been the same without you in
it. No one puts up with me the way you did.”

Antoine
let out a snort of a laugh. “Why am I not surprised?”

“You
were a great boyfriend,” I said with a wistful smile. “I didn’t deserve you.”

I
took a step towards him. I wanted to hug him. I knew he was moving on, but I
didn’t want to leave him thinking I was some stalker ex or that I was trying to
sabotage his happiness.

“How
about a hug?” I asked as I shrugged my shoulders.

Antoine
paused for a second to think about it and then nodded a couple times. I sat the
food down on the steps, walked over to him, and wrapped my arms around him. I
thought about how it was probably going to be the last time I could ever hold
him like that ever again. I rested my head on his shoulder, breathed in his
familiar cologne, and lingered probably a few seconds too long.

He
squeezed me back, and I didn’t want to let go. I slid my hands down to his side
and loosened my hold on him before pulling back, but the seconds our faces were
mere inches apart, something came over me.

I
leaned in and placed my mouth on his. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just
felt so natural in that moment. When I’d closed my eyes and breathed him in, it
was like we were back together for a second. Time stood still. Nothing else
mattered. No one else mattered.

“Rashida?”
I heard a man’s voice say from the top of the stoop.

“What
did you do?” Antoine said as he pushed me away. The look on his face was
terrifying, and I realized right then and there that he didn’t kiss me back.
His lips were pursed and shut tight for those few seconds.

“Oh,
my god,” I said as I realized what I’d just done. I covered my mouth.
“I–I have to go.”

I
turned on my heel and headed straight back to my apartment. I couldn’t believe
what I’d just done, and I was sure there was going to be absolutely no coming
back from that.

I
knew I had a solid twenty-minute walk to convince myself to cut all ties and
move on. I’d royally screwed things up with Kevin and made a huge fool of
myself in front of Antoine. My life couldn’t possibly get any worse.

As
I turned the corner towards my apartment, it was like a breath of fresh air. My
sanctuary. My refuge.
My light at the end of the tunnel.
My apartment sheltered me from the real world and the pain of reality. I wanted
nothing more than to cuddle under the thick covers of my bed and drown out my
thoughts with some cheap wine and a heart to heart with LaLa.

“LaLa?”
I called out as I kicked my shoes off by the front door. “You home?”

I
didn’t see her purse or keys by the front door. That wasn’t a good sign. She
was probably with Demarius.

The
apartment echoed emptily as I went from room to room. She was definitely out.

“Ugh,”
I sighed. I headed back to my room and slipped on pair of old, tattered,
stretched out gray sweat pants and a plain white tank top. I pulled my hair
back into a pony tail and high-tailed it to the kitchen to pop open a
five-dollar bottle of white wine and a box of Oreos to drown my sorrows and eat
my feelings. After the day I’d had, I more than deserved it.

Two
generous glasses of Moscato and half a sleeve of Oreos later, I was sprawled
out on the couch, almost asleep in front of the glow of the T.V. I was two
seconds away from being utterly out cold when a knock at the door startled me
into an upright position.

The
clock on the wall read eight o’clock. It was growing dark outside, but it was
still early enough in the evening for visitors. Amaya was known for sometimes
just popping by randomly, but most of the time she’d call first.

I
tiptoed over to the door, attempting to be as quiet as a mouse, and peered
through the peephole. It was Kevin.

Forgetting
that I looked like a hot mess covered in chocolate cookie crumbs, I pried the
door open.

“Can
we talk?” he said with one hand on his beltline. He stood with his head held
low, but peered up at me through his intense, deep set dark eyes. His jaw was
square and tensed.

“Sure,”
I relented. He’d made the effort to come all the way over here. The least I
could do was hear him out.

He
walked in and ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair. His eyes bored into
mine.

“So
that kiss… with Antoine,” he said. “What was that about?”

“Whoa,
whoa, whoa,” I said. “Back up here just a second. Before we go digging into my
past, why don’t you explain Ayla to me?”

He
shook his head as if he didn’t know what I was talking about.

“I
know you two dated,” I said. “Why would you keep that from me?”

“I
didn’t keep it from you,” he said. “I told you I don’t talk about past
relationships. How did you know we dated anyway?”

“I
had coffee with her. It was brought up in conversation,” I replied, crossing my
fingers that he’d buy it.

“What
all did she say?” he asked.

“Nothing.
Just that you two dated for a few months a long time ago,” I said. “She didn’t
go into detail. We were just talking about what a small world it is.”

He
bit his lip as if it pained him to hear she’d talked about him so casually.

“I
want to hear everything from you,” I said. “There’s clearly some sort of
animosity between the two of you and it’s causing problems between you and me.”

“It
shouldn’t cause problems between us,” he grunted as he tossed his head back.
“That’s exactly why I don’t talk about exes.”

“Can’t
we make an exception to your little rule?” I asked. “I want to put this whole
Ayla thing behind us. I want to move on. But I can’t. Not when you act so weird
every time we run into her or she’s brought up in conversation. You know her
stepmom is my boss. We’re going to run into her again. Shit, I’ve been asked to
write an article about her wedding for crying out loud. We can’t sidestep this
Ayla thing forever.”

He
kicked off his shoes and walked over to the chair, plopping down as if he had
just been defeated.

“You
want me to tell you what happened?” he said. “Fine.”

I
took a seat across from him on the couch. “
I
’m
all ears
.”

“We
dated a few months,” he said. “Everything was great. Then she got really weird.
Started talking about marriage. Wanted me to meet her parents. Talked about
baby names. All of that.”

His
story was already starting out completely different than Ayla’s, but I still
listened intently and clung onto every word.

“She
just wanted to rush things,” he continued. “You know how I am about rushing
things. I get scared away.”

That
was true. I’d experienced it firsthand. His version of the story was already
making more sense than Ayla’s.

“She
grew more and more obsessed with me,” he said. “She’d pop into the station to
bring me lunch. She’d ask my partner where I was so she could surprise me. I
even caught her going through my phone once.”

“Eek,”
I said, scrunching my face. She didn’t seem like she’d even be smart enough to
do any of that stuff, but I said nothing. “So how’d you end it?”

“I
just told her, point blank, that it wasn’t working out,” he said. “She took it
pretty hard. Cried. A lot. Called me for weeks, maybe even months, I don’t
know. Then she moved into my building.”

A
red flag went up in my head. Ayla said he’d moved into her building. I
remembered that very distinctly.

“She
did?” I asked. “When?”

“Less
than a year ago, maybe? It was just a few weeks after I’d dumped her,” he said.
“That’s when I met her mom for the first time. She knocked on my door asking me
to help her move something heavy. I was shocked to see her there. I was shocked
to see her moving in across from me. But her mom was standing right there, so I
had to be polite and help. What could I do? Slam the door in her psychotic
face?”

It
made perfect sense, but then again, so did everything else he ever told me.

“The
next thing I know, she’s got this new boyfriend, Antoine,” he said. “She
paraded him around me every chance she got. She was never into PDA before, but
whenever she’d see me around, she couldn’t keep her hands off him. It was all
an act.”

He
sounded a tiny bit like a bitter, jealous ex-lover, but I wasn’t going to tell
him that.

“I
hate to admit this. I really do,” he continued. “But seeing her with someone
else, so happy, sort of got me a little confused. Like it stirred up some old
feelings or something.”

Suddenly
it all made sense. Ayla was Kevin’s version of Antoine. He saw her happy and he
wanted her back.

I
started laughing as I threw my half-drunk self back on the sofa.

“What’s
so funny?” Kevin asked with one eyebrow raised. “Did I share too much? This is
why I hate talking about these things.”

“No!”
I laughed some more. “Antoine is my ex-boyfriend. I dumped him last year, and
the moment I found out he was getting married, I wanted him back.”

“Oh,”
Kevin said. “You… still have feelings for him?”

“Well,”
I said. “To be honest, I don’t know. I do and I don’t. It depends on the day.
When I see him with Ayla or when he ignores me, it lights this fire inside of
me that makes me feel like I’d do almost anything to earn my rightful spot back
in his heart. But when I’m with you, I don’t even think about Antoine.”

“Well,
it’s settled then,” he said as he slapped his hands on his knees. “We both need
to move the fuck on and get over them.”

My
face lit up. I was glad to hear him say that, and for the first time ever, I
felt like we were on the same page.

“Agreed,”
I replied. “No sense in breaking up a happy couple when we could easily find
our own happiness.”

Kevin
gazed up at me through his soulful eyes. He stood up and walked over, taking a
seat next to me. He slipped his arm around my back and pulled me closer. He
smelled like spearmint and aftershave.

“I
guess everyone is secondhand,” he said. “We’re all just thrift shop finds.
We’re not perfect. We come with baggage. Scuff marks. Chips. But sometimes you
get lucky and you find that one piece that someone threw out that happens to be
perfect for you.”

“Wow,”
I said with a smile. “I’ve never known you to be so poetic before.”

“I
guess opening up to you just made me feel like I could say anything,” he said.
He leaned in and placed his perfect pout
against mine,
pressing hard, parting and then slipping his tongue between them
. His
sturdy hand caressed my cheek before he ran his fingers through the loose wisps
that hung down around my face.

In
that moment, I didn’t care that I was wearing pilling old sweatpants or a
nearly see-through white tank top. I didn’t care that my breath probably tasted
like cookies and wine. In that moment, I didn’t even think about Antoine. Not
once, and especially not when Bennett scooped me up in his big arms and carried
me back to my bedroom.

He
tore off his shirt, slipped off his jeans, and climbed under the covers with
me. His hands were voracious as he caressed and touched every inch of my body.
I’d never seen him so hungry before, but I wasn’t about to stop him from
getting his carnal meal. I wanted him just as badly as he wanted me.

As
his lips crashed again into mind and his hands worked me over every which way,
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and relished that moment. Kevin was my
future. I just knew it. I was one hundred percent certain.