Don't Tell A Soul (20 page)

This could be the end of my marriage to Troy, the end of my family unit. Because if he can't promise not to bring Aria into our home, then in my mind he can't promise to stay out of bed with her. And if he can't assure me of
that,
then I can't and won't promise to stay.

EVA

 

 

 

 

E
va glanced around the church and frowned. None of her new friends were at New Faith this morning. Yvonne hadn't mentioned not showing up at church, and with Pam and Taylor being out, too, it made Eva self-conscious. Had Yvonne told them all about her, and did they not want to even worship in the same sanctuary now?

Eva shook her head and took a seat near the center of the sanctuary. She didn't want to be in the back anymore. Before she read that passage in her Bible, Eva hadn't felt worthy to sit anywhere but in the back of the church. But after she read about herself in her Bible, she felt like she was right where she belonged.

Service was going to start soon, so Eva got settled in for praise and worship, her favorite part of the service. Rhoda and Rochelle sat down on the pew in front of her. They didn't say hello or even acknowledge Eva. She didn't mind. She had absolutely nothing to say to them.

“This is just downright scandalous,” Rhoda said. “They ought to be ashamed of themselves.”

Rochelle said, “They just bold with it. I mean, even after seeing us in Sandusky, they didn't come to church? You would think that they would've got convicted in their spirits once they saw the saints of God.”

Eva tried not to pay attention to Rhoda and Rochelle's conversation. She wasn't a gossiper. But they were talking so loud that she couldn't help but overhear.

“Yvonne has been acting like she lost her Holy Ghost ever since she divorced Luke,” Rhoda declared.

Eva's jaw dropped. They were talking about Yvonne? She leaned slightly forward, feeling incredibly guilty for eavesdropping, but not guilty enough to stop.

“She has!” Rochelle said. “And did you know that Brother Kingston has been married, like, five times?”

Rhoda shook her head. “I knew it. You just be glad that the man God has for you is pure. He's never even been with a woman.”

“He hasn't?” Rochelle asked. “Didn't he used to be married?”

“Yes, but they never consummated.”

Rochelle's eyes widened. “I wonder if Brother Kingston would be interested in me if things don't work out with him and Yvonne.”

Eva slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. She leaned back in her seat and focused on the pulpit. The praise team, minus Yvonne and Brother Kingston, came out and started singing an upbeat worship song.

Eva wanted to burst into laughter at how Rhoda and Rochelle seemed so caught up in worship. Their arms were raised into the air, and Rochelle's eyes were closed. From where she was sitting, Eva couldn't see Rhoda's face, but she imagined that Rhoda was glancing from left to right, checking out people's outfits to judge if they were church appropriate.

The music was good, but not nearly as good as when Brother Kingston led the praise team. His voice was incredibly deep and rich, but he could hit high notes so clear that he sounded like a soprano.

Eva listened intently to Pastor Brown's sermon as he talked about how God answered prayer. It was a sermon she could relate to. God had answered her prayer. She'd asked Him for direction, and she'd wound up at New Faith.

Eva lifted a silent prayer of thanks. She didn't know if she could take the next step. The step that meant she was giving her life to Christ. She wanted to but wondered if she could live up to that life.

Then Pastor Brown said something that stirred Eva's spirit. He said, “If you could be holy all by yourself, then you wouldn't need salvation. The thing is, you can't be holy without God's spirit dwelling on the inside of you, and it is a gift. All you have to do is repent of your sins, be baptized, and ask Him to fill you.”

Eva stood to her feet. This made so much sense. She couldn't resist the urges that came up in her mind, because she didn't have God's spirit inside. She stepped down to the end of the row and sighed. It was time.

Maybe it was fitting that none of her friends were at church that morning. Repenting to God was something that she needed to do on her own. She'd never wanted to admit her sins to anyone before, but she kept thinking of Jesus and that Samaritan woman. He knew all of the Samaritan woman's sins, just like He knew all of Eva's.

Eva walked down the center aisle, stepping in time to the worship hymn. With so many eyes on her, she felt like a bride on her wedding day. As she approached the altar, she heard applause but tuned it out. All she could think of was all the things she'd done in her life.

The lady minister at the altar hugged her. “You ready to give your life to God, baby?”

She nodded. “Yes, ma'am.”

“You know what that means, right?”

“I think so.”

The minister smiled. “It means that all your sins will go into the sea of forgetfulness. It's like they never happened.”

Eva shuddered and collapsed into the woman's arms. She broke into tearful sobs, but they were cries of joy! Even if she couldn't quite forget her sins, at least God would.

If this was her wedding to God, Eva's heart said, “I do.”

YVONNE

 

 

 

 

S
ince the weather has finally cleared, Kingston and I are driving home. It's too bad we couldn't make it to church this morning. There's no telling what gossip Rhoda and Rochelle have dreamed up. It's a good thing they don't know about the honeymoon suite. I would never be able to convince them that no sin took place in that hotel room.

And nothing sinful
had
happened. Not quite.

I accidentally caught a glimpse of Kingston's abdominal region when he was changing his shirt, and I felt my heart rate quicken. For a split second I imagined him with his shirt completely off and me running my fingers over his washboard stomach.

The thought of that makes me glance over at Kingston even now. He hums as he drives, and that ever-present grin has not left his face since we got on the road.

“Did you sleep well, Yvonne? You've been awful quiet this morning.”

I did not sleep well at all. I was concerned that I might do something embarrassing in my sleep, like snore or pass gas. Normal things that real live people do. Well, real live unladylike people.

The room was nice, even though the rose petals on the bed made things kind of awkward. Kingston let me have the bed, while he slept on the sofa, and I kept peeking over at him to see if he was looking at me.

“I slept fine,” I finally respond.

“You did? Well, I didn't. I tossed and turned all night,” Kingston says.

“Was the couch uncomfortable?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. But there was a beautiful woman in a bedroom with me. I am a man, Yvonne. A man who hasn't had any in a good long time. I spent half the night praying.”

Kingston has a dead serious expression on his face, so I have no idea why this tickles me so much. I crack up laughing.

“You're the one who wanted the honeymoon suite!” I say. “It's not my fault there was no honeymoon taking place.”

“Laugh if you want,” he says. “I'm just being honest with you. Don't get hemmed up with me in any more hotel rooms. I can't be held responsible next time for what I might do.”

“Am I that irresistible?” I ask while still laughing.

Kingston looks me dead in the eyes. “You are, Yvonne. To me, you are.”

Did it get hot in here all of a sudden? I fan myself with my hand and look away from Kingston's demanding stare. He looks back at the road again and drums his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Yvonne, can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Would you mind if we started seriously dating?”

I swallow nervously. We've had only three dates. I don't know what “seriously dating” even means. Does that mean he'll want to propose soon? This feels like it's going at warp speed, and I think we need to slow it down a notch.

“And what comes after seriously dating?” I ask. “Because I'm not sleeping with you, just so you know.”

Kingston's giggles fill the car with the sound of his richly deep voice. “Yvonne, why do you think I'm trying to take your virtue?”

“I don't really think that, I guess. I'm just afraid of this.”

“Afraid of dating, afraid of me, afraid of falling . . .”

“
Terrified
of falling.”

I leave “in love” off the end of the sentence, but I think we both know that's what I mean.

“You think I'm secure about all this, Yvonne? I've been married twice. You can't be more afraid than I am.”

“So we should quit while we're ahead, right?” I ask. “Maybe it's not a good idea.”

Kingston nods slowly and briefly turns his gaze on me. “That's what you want?”

Good Lord, this man is fine. The intensity in his eyes scatters my thoughts like a handful of confetti in the wind.

“I don't know what I want.”

“Well, why don't you stop trying to figure out what you want? Why don't you focus on what God wants for you?”

I nod slowly and consider this. When I got ready to divorce Luke, I asked God for direction. I prayed and I cried. I cried and I prayed. Until something happened. Until I felt peace in my spirit about leaving Luke, moving on, and finding myself. I need to spend some time talking to God about Kingston, because he sure doesn't seem to be going anywhere, and I have no idea what to do with these feelings.

“What do you think God wants for you?” I ask.

Kingston gives me a beautiful smile full of longing. “God wants
you
for me, Yvonne. I'm just waiting on you to get the same revelation.”

I can't think of any kind of answer that would sound like it makes a lick of sense. So I say nothing and let Kingston wonder what I'm thinking. Maybe it'll buy me some time to sort it all out.

Maybe . . . something will be revealed.

PAM

 

 

 

 

“Y
ou know you can stay here as long as you want, right?”

Taylor asks as she hands me a pillow with a fresh pillowcase on it.

I plop down on Taylor's guest-room bed and exhale loudly. I know that I can't stay here long. What will my children do without me at home? Luckily, school is out for the summer, and I don't have to worry about them getting themselves ready for school. Troy should be able to handle meals, and if he can't, then my child will stand in the gap for me.

“I wish I didn't have to be here at all.”

“You don't. You can confront Troy and tell him to leave. That's what I would do,” Taylor says.

I know she's just trying to help, so I refrain from telling her that she's not helping. Confronting Troy again is not the answer, of this I'm sure. I told him to get rid of Aria, and that's the only solution that I can agree with. So if he refuses, does that mean he's choosing Aria over me and our family?

“He slept with her, Taylor. I remember years ago thinking that he had, and you convinced me that he hadn't.”

Taylor's eyes widen, as if she recalls that conversation we had. “I asked you if things had changed in the bedroom. I never, ever said for sure that Troy wasn't cheating.”

I shake my head and hug the pillow to my chest. It's not Taylor's fault, no matter what she said at the time. The fault lies with Troy and Aria for doing what they did, and with me for not making him lose that girl a long time ago. I should've known better. Should've followed my first mind.

“Are you going to be okay in here?” Taylor asks as fresh tears wet my cheeks. “I'm going to make some lunch before the boys come home from church. Do you want some tea?”

“No thank you. I think I want to write.”

“Okay. I'll leave you alone, then. Let me know if you need to talk, cry, holler, go and beat Troy down, go and beat that heffa down, or any of the above.”

This makes me laugh. It's a weak, sad, and downtrodden laugh, but it's still better than bursting into tears.

Taylor hugs me tight. “It's going to work out. God didn't bring you and Troy this far to leave you.”

I nod, although I don't know if I agree that our marriage is going to work out. Cheating is and always has been a deal breaker for me. Troy broke our vows, he gave what belongs to me to another woman, and he wants me to pretend that it's nothing!

When Taylor leaves the room, I take out my cell phone. No missed calls, meaning that Troy hasn't called. In romances even when the guy messes up, he comes after the girl. Troy hasn't come for me.

I check my text messages to be sure, and there is a message from Logan. Talked to Troy. You okay?

Troy told Logan about our drama? Why would he do that? He's probably just trying to get someone on his side about all this.

I type a one-word response. No.

I shake my head. Why would I want to talk about the demise of my marriage with a dangerously handsome brand-new friend who just happens to be attracted to me?

I type the same one word. No.

I take out my laptop. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to write anything, because I can't stop thinking about Troy and Aria.
Ugh.
I have to remember not to put them together. Not even in my thoughts.

My phone buzzes again. You don't have to talk about that, but can we talk about my book? Meet me at Starbucks?

I start to type the same thing a third time. Another negative. But, then again, I could use Logan's company right now. He makes me laugh, and he makes me feel beautiful. I definitely need humor, and my self-esteem has taken a hit since Troy betrayed me with Aria.

I jump out of the bed and stand in front of the mirror. I look a hot, stinking mess. My hair is completely unruly, and my face is tear streaked and swollen. I don't usually go anywhere looking like this, but I have no intention of getting all dolled up.

I snatch my curly mane up into a high ponytail, wash my face, and put on facial moisturizer. A second glance in the mirror tells me that I haven't improved much, but it's the best I can do. Besides, my sad look matches the melancholy that I feel.

On the way to Starbucks, so many thoughts are going through my mind. My favorite one is that this is all a nightmare and I'm going to open my eyes and none of this will have happened. Not the note, not Troy's admission of cheating, none of it.

As I pull into my regular parking spot, I notice that Logan's car is already here. He steps out as soon as I get out of my car, and for some reason, I don't remember him being this tall. He's got a little brown bag in his hand and that incredible smile on his face.

The sight of him makes me burst into tears.

He runs over to me and encircles me in a hug. I feel my body crumple against his as he strokes my ponytail and makes little soothing sounds. I don't know why I thought I could get through this. I can't. Troy has destroyed me . . . us.

“Come on, Pam. Let's go inside. All of Cleveland doesn't need to witness your grief.”

“Just the people inside Starbucks, huh?”

He chuckles. “They won't be paying attention. They're too busy sipping their expensive drinks.”

“What's in the bag?”

“Oh, this? Well, I brought you a cupcake. I know how you like them. You can have it with your coffee.”

A cupcake? This man sure knows the way to my heart. Every time I pick up anything sweet or delicious, Troy tells me that I should be juicing or some mess like that.

“Thank you,” I say as Logan hands me the treat bag.

“Something sweet for someone sweet.”

Even though Logan starts walking toward the Starbucks, I stop in my tracks. I look inside the bag at the beautifully decorated miniature cake and sigh.

“Are you real?” I ask.

Logan spins on one heel. “What do you mean?”

“Come on. You are single, gorgeous, thoughtful, and celibate. You can't be real. All those qualities can't be in one man.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “Thank you for all the compliments. But I have to disagree with you. I'm not really all that thoughtful.” He motions for me to follow him into the coffee shop. I shake my head and make my feet move.

I sit at my favorite table, while Logan orders our beverages. He's got the girl at the counter charmed so much that she might just hand him her panties right along with our coffee. It should be a felony for a man to be this fine and chocolate. It's like he's walked out of every one of my chocolate dreams.

He sits and hands me my cup. “Enjoy, my friend.”

I close my eyes and sip, letting the liquid elixir warm my throat and my insides. Good coffee is just about as good as a good man, but since my man is the opposite of good, this coffee is the best thing I've got going for me.

“You didn't bring your laptop,” Logan says.

I shrug. “You didn't bring yours, either.”

“That's because I didn't really come to work. I've been dishonest with you.”

“Really?”

Logan cracks up at my incredulous tone. “Really. I just wanted to get you out of the house.”

“Technically, I was out of the house. I'm staying at my girl Taylor's home until I sort all of this out.”

“I see. And the children are with Troy?”

I nod. “I thought that would be for the best for now. If I do decide to leave him, of course, my babies are coming with me.”

“So you're thinking of leaving?”

“I think so. Especially if he won't drop Aria. I can't trust him after that.”

“I understand Troy's reluctance to drop Aria.”

“What? He should be doing whatever it takes to hold his marriage together.”

Logan picks up his coffee and takes a long gulp. “Well, Reign Records out of Atlanta wants to sign her. They think she's the answer to Mystique.”

“Who in the world is Mystique?” I ask.

“Only the biggest R & B star in the world right now. I know you've heard of her.”

Logan jumps up from the table and does a little booty shimmy dance and snaps a finger in the air. Then I immediately know who he's talking about! The girl on the perfume commercial. Aria doesn't have anything on her.

I laugh at Logan's dancing. “I'm gonna need you to sit down and never, ever do that again.”

“What?”

“I think you just broke multiple man laws all at once. I'm pretty sure they were class A felonies.”

Logan sits back down and laughs at himself. “I agree. But you know who I'm talking about now, right?”

“I do, but what does that have to do with Troy?”

“They like all the songs we've done so far, and they want to give her a full album release with fifteen songs. Troy will write most of them, but they've got some young songwriting duo to do about three or four. This will be a huge payday for y'all, and they've got enough money to put behind the project that it'll go at least platinum.”

“So are you saying that I'm wrong? He shouldn't drop her?”

Logan shakes his head. “Not at all. If you were mine and I'd messed up as badly as Troy has, I'd drop her like a bad habit. I'm just saying I understand his reasons.”

I sit back in my seat and cross my arms over my chest. All Troy has ever thought about since we've been married is how he could blow up. I guess he's finally decided to put it ahead of our entire family.

“Let's change the subject,” Logan says. “How's the new book coming? What's it about?”

“It's about a mistress who sleeps with a prominent minister and has a child by him. An updated version of
The Scarlet Letter
. Then she meets her fairy tale prince, but she's pretty jaded by then. Jaded and angry.”

“Sounds interesting. I'd want to read it.”

“Good, even though you're not in my demographic.”

“I should be in your demographic. I like to read.”

For a brief instant I imagine Logan and me sitting on some tropical beach, in beach chairs, each of us reading a book. He looks exceptionally fine in his swimming trunks, and I am incredibly thin.

Then I snap back to reality and push the cupcake away from me. My ever-present fluffiness is the only reason why I'm considering staying with a cheater. If I was thin and fabulous, I'd leave in a heartbeat.

Logan takes my half-eaten cupcake and bites it. He grins while doing so, looking just like a mischievous child.

“This is really good. Are you sure you're done?” Logan asks. “I can finish it off for you.”

“Be my guest. I'm not in a cupcake-eating mood.”

“What are you going to do, Pam?”

I shrug and sigh. “I don't know. I really love Troy. This would destroy the children. I don't know.”

“For what it's worth, I believe Troy,” Logan says. “He said it was once, years ago. In my opinion he shouldn't have told you about it at all.”

I narrow my eyes in anger. “What do you mean, he shouldn't have told me? Are you saying that he should've continued his charade?”

“What did telling you accomplish? He thought that by telling you that it was once and that it was over, you would actually believe that. He doesn't know women.”

“Even if he doesn't know all women, he ought to know me.”

Logan nods in agreement. “He should know you, but he clearly has a lot to learn. Telling you about Aria was stupid. He should've taken that to his grave. Secrets like that only hurt. They never heal.”

“What if I would've found out on my own, huh? Then what?”

“You wouldn't be any more furious than you are right now.”

“So that's what you do with your women? You keep secrets and lie behind their backs? No wonder you're by yourself.”

“I don't cheat. Believe it or not, I was cheated on by the last two women I loved. Both of them cheated with former flames.”

This is unbelievable. Two women, loved by this incredible man, chose to be with someone else? That doesn't sit right with me—at all. It doesn't make any sense. Maybe he's not that great in the bedroom. Is this why he's celibate? Or maybe there's something about him I don't know or that you can't tell by looking at him.

“But I just feel that there is someone out there who will be faithful. I won't rest until I find her.”

“I don't know how this conversation turned into us examining your woman problems. We're talking about me,” I say. “What's your vote? Do I leave or stay?”

Logan tosses his hands up and shrugs. “I am hopelessly biased, Pam. My opinion doesn't matter.”

“You're biased because you are friends with both of us? I get it. I'm sorry for putting you in the middle, Logan.”

“I'm biased because, like a fool, I have fallen for another man's wife. I can't tell you to stay with Troy, because I wouldn't mean it. I want you to leave him and come with me.”

“Fallen for me? Logan, you barely even know me. How can you say that?”

“I just know. Everything about you, the way you approach problems, the way you chase your dreams, the way you're still considering Troy after everything he's done to you . . . Your heart is gold, Pam.”

Logan's intense gaze is making me feel a bit uncomfortable, so I look away from him. Why did he have to come into our lives now? Why couldn't he have shown up when Troy and I were happy? He's here now, when it's all falling apart, promising to be faithful and understanding—everything Troy is not.