Zane's the Other Side of the Pillow (17 page)

“Well, I appreciate you loving me . . . and I've never doubted your love for me. But there's really nothing you can do. She's gone.”

“What did you do to her?”

I was stunned. “Why is it always assumed that the man has to be the one to mess up a relationship?”

“Maybe it has something to do with that being the case at least eight out of ten times, possibly nine.”

“Like you messed up with Mom?”

My parents' divorce continued to be a touchy subject, regardless of how many years had elapsed.

“Yes, exactly like how I messed up with your mother.” He sighed and took a guzzle of Gatorade. “I was young, dumb, and full of cum. I was reckless and thought that the world belonged to me. I believed that as long as I took care of things on the home
front, everything would be fine. But your mother wasn't having that shit . . . not at all.”

“Oh, I remember how she went off on you when she found out about your affair. That fight was legendary. The difference between you and me is that I was framed. I never touched Jemistry's roommate, but it didn't matter.”

“Tevin, rarely does it matter what's actual or factual when it comes to women and how they think. All that matters is what they perceive.”

“I see that now.”

“You're still young, though. You'll snap back and find someone else.”

“But I don't want anyone else.”

I untied my Kenneth Cole shoes and kicked them off. My feet were killing me.

“Tell me about Jemistry. What made her so special to you?”

“What good will it do for me to tell you all the reasons why I love a woman that I can never have?”

Daddy shrugged. “Okay, then. Tell me how you plan to move forward. You have to do that, you know. Just like you had to move on after what happened with Estella.”

I leaned forward and buried my face in my hands, took a deep breath, and then looked at Daddy. “I need time to get over this. I'm not ready to date again yet. I'd only be using another woman to fill a void, and that's not fair.”

“It's only unfair when the woman doesn't recognize what you're doing. Look at me. I haven't committed to another woman since your mother, but I damn sure haven't been celibate either.”

“I've been there, Dad. After Estella and I divorced, I had plenty of lovers. Even had one a few months before I met Jemistry. I'm not trying to go back to that. That's like eating a fast-food burger instead of an aged rib-eye steak.”

“Well, the point is that a man's got to eat. If you don't get back out there and get laid, it'll only make things worse. The best way to get over a woman is by taking another woman to bed . . . at least one. And that's a known fact.”

I smirked. “It's not a known fact. It's the typical musings of men who want to have an excuse to have sex with a lot of women.”

“Call it what you want, but if you're coming home alone every night, or trying to find extra work to do at the hospital so you don't have to come home at all, you're going to drive yourself crazy.”

Damn, he's reading me like a book!

“Break bread with another woman. Go see a movie with one. Let one come over and sit here and talk. See what happens. You'll eventually find some kind of connection with another woman as you did with Jemistry. If not that kind, just screw her and relax.”

I shook my head. “Daddy, I realize that you're only trying to help. But is there something wrong with me desiring to be with one woman for the rest of my life? I'm not in my twenties and I've already been through one failed marriage. I made a commitment to settle down then. Why wouldn't I be ready to make a commitment now?”

My father stood and came to sit down beside me. “I understand everything that you're saying. When you and Estella lost those babies, the entire family went through the pain with you. When your marriage fell apart, same thing. And right now, we're all in the trenches with you again.” He placed his hand on my knee. “But, son, you can't make someone be with you, and you can't waste your life away waiting on a woman who has moved on to come back. How do you know she hasn't found a new man?”

“For all that I know, she has. Then again, I know Jemistry. She hasn't gotten involved with anyone else. I'm sure she's back behind her steel bars, even more bitter toward men than she was before. The sad part is that it's all my fault.”

“It's not your fault, Tevin.”

“If she believes it's my fault, then it's my fault.”

“She's probably at least having sex with another man by now.”

The mere thought of someone else touching Jemistry made me angry. Daddy could tell that he shouldn't have said that.

“Not that I know enough about her to say all of that,” he added.

I sat there in silence for a moment. Daddy got up and went to the restroom. When he returned, he didn't bother to sit back down.

“Get up. Let's go. I'm hungry and I already peeped your fridge. Nothing interesting. I want some seafood. Let's go to Mo's in Baltimore.”

“Baltimore?”

“Yes, Baltimore. You act like it's a road trip. We'll be there in forty minutes. Besides, I'm driving. Let's go.”

I put my shoes back on, got up, and followed him out to his rental car.

Daddy and I had a great three days together before he had to leave for New York. He managed to keep my mind off Jemistry for most of the time. We hung out every night at various restaurants, played golf on my day off, and he even chilled around my office while I was at work. Most of the people in my department were picking his brain about various techniques or new technology. My father was no joke when it came to surgery. And the fact that he had been hired by a hospital in Sweden gave him great credibility in the field. That's why they were paying him to speak at a conference.

I ran into Magdalena in the hallway, which was strange considering that I never had before and I was located nowhere near the oncology unit three levels below. She was determined to try me.

Daddy spotted her talking to me and drilled me with twenty questions afterward. He tried to insist that I take her out; I told
him that I would think about it. The one thing that I could not deny is that staying busy outside of work was helping to keep my mind off my heartache. Working overtime didn't always do it because the fact that it was all about avoidance was always there. Spending time doing other things meant that I was somewhat moving on with my life.

Once Daddy left, I invited Floyd to go out bowling. I hadn't picked up a bowling ball in more than a decade. From the looks of it, neither had he. While I'm sure that he partially showed up at Lucky Strike in Gallery Place because he wanted to hang out, I'm sure trying to see what kind of women congregated there was also a part of his plan. He left there with seven phone numbers locked in his phone under male names or initials. I left there with two but never planned to utilize either of them. The women were attractive but desperate—exactly how Floyd preferred them—and I was not ready to toss my dick around to the masses simply to be doing something.

I decided that I might actually ask Magdalena out for dinner . . . once. It was going on nine weeks since I'd heard from Jemistry. Frankly, I was beginning to be upset with her. If she ever truly loved me, she at least owed me some type of closure. Blocking me from communication was rather childish. If she didn't want to be bothered with me, I had finally come to the point of acceptance. It was time to claim my life back.

“Love is most weak when there is more doubt than there is trust but love is most strong when you learn to trust even with all the doubts.”

—Unknown

I
asked Magdalena to meet me at the Capitol City Brewing Company on New York Avenue. We got settled into a booth and ordered some Southwest Keg Rolls for an appetizer, and an order of the Brew House Ribs to share as an entrée. The meal was really enough for at least three adults so we were definitely about to throw down.

“I can't believe you actually asked me out.” Magdalena beamed from across the table.

I chuckled. “You make it sound like you won the lottery or something.”

“In a sense, that's what it seems like. I'm sure you realize that there are very few eligible, successful bachelors around here.”

“So I keep hearing.”

“It's the truth. I've been single for almost five years.”

“Wow, really?” I was shocked. “That has to be by choice. You're a career-driven, attractive woman who interacts with people on a daily basis. I could see if you were teleworking or something, but you're always out and about.”

“Out and about, and down and out.” She sighed and took a sip of her wine. “Most men out here want to play games. They only want to get women in bed, take them for a test drive, and then toss them out the window.”

I could tell that she was damaged goods like so many women and wanted to make some things clear upfront.

“Let me be straight with you. Rather, let me be straight with you
again
, like I was the day we met at the Fourth of July picnic. I'm not looking to get involved right now. I went through a nasty breakup less than three months ago, and I haven't gotten over it. I haven't gotten over her.”

“Tevin, I feel you. I'm not trying to pressure you into anything. All I'm saying is that if we hit it off, you might change your mind.”

I stared into her eyes and my eyes dropped down to the cleavage she was showing in her black dress. My body was betraying me—in particular my dick—and I had almost become immune to jacking off.

“See, that's the entire point. Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all. You said a moment ago that most men are after sex. What I'm saying to you is that, if anything were to develop between us, all that I have to offer is sex. I can't fall in love with you or anyone else because I'm still in love with my ex.”

“Sex can change things.”

“Not for me it can't. I've been having sex my entire life, with all kinds of beautiful women. And out of all the women that I've bedded, only two made me want to make a commitment—my ex-wife and my recent ex-girlfriend.”

“Damn, that's cold!” She started pouting. “Talk about fucking with a chica's self-esteem.”

“I'm not trying to do that, and you shouldn't take it personally. That's the point. It's not about who you are; it's about you not being her. I don't believe that women are interchangeable like a lot of my friends do. I have these various . . . compartments, for lack of a better word. Compartments where I place people, in reference to my life, and they very rarely switch over into another one. I've
ended up dating some women who started out as platonic friends, and it never worked for me.

“Even though I cared for them as human beings, that initial chemistry wasn't there, and it's something that can't be faked or fabricated later on.”

“So you're trying to say you don't feel any chemistry with me?” she asked defiantly as the waitress set the Keg Rolls on the table and walked off.

“I don't feel like I have to have you, in every way imaginable, no. You're nice, pretty, aggressive. You seem like a cool person, but can I envision us being together around the clock, waking up together, or dying together? No, and I'm only being honest.”

“I see.”

I hated it when I said a bunch of words and the other person merely said, “I see.”

“Magdalena, if you want me to pay for your dinner and leave, I will do that. I don't want to offend you.”

“Why did you even ask me out?”

“Good question, and I'll try to answer. For me, part of it was the fact that you kept asking me to ask you out. The other part is that I realize that sitting at home sulking is not going to change my situation. My baby is out of my life and it's difficult for me to cope with. I don't expect you to understand but—”

“Actually, I do understand how you feel. What you're feeling is what most of us women feel after being dumped, except it happens to us time and time again. I have to admit that I appreciate your honesty, so allow me to be honest with you, Dr. Tevin Harris. I want you to take me to bed tonight. No strings attached. No expectations—unrealistic or otherwise. Just two people sharing a couple of hours of intimacy so that tomorrow doesn't seem as dismal as it did today.”

I sat there, staring at her with my dick rock hard in my pants.
Maybe the touch of another woman would start to make me feel something again, instead of feeling like a dead man walking. Maybe shutting out the rest of the world and relieving myself inside of her would ease a little bit of my pain.

“So, what's it going to be?” Magdalena asked, finishing off her glass of wine.

We ended up back at her place, a studio in an expensive condo building not far from the restaurant. It amazed me how people would pay thousands for a small space to be in a certain area of town when they could purchase a house for the same amount less than two miles away. But she was single and it made sense to her, so I rolled with it.

The sex was there but it was nothing memorable. I didn't do much to her but she licked all over my chest, then my dick, and waited for me to pound the bottom out of her pussy. I went through the motions until I exploded inside the condom, spent a few minutes making small talk, and then told her that I needed to leave because I had an early surgery in the morning.

After all of that effort that she put forth, I'm sure that sex with me was a letdown. Not because of the size of my dick. She oohed and aahed over that like every other woman. But because I wasn't all over her like she was the most exquisite thing on the planet. However, she had asked for it: a couple of hours to knock the edge off. So we knocked off some edges and went our separate ways. It would undoubtedly be awkward if we crossed paths at Sibley, but I had a feeling she would be avoiding my floor from then on out.