Page 26
I sat in the driver’s seat of my new 7 Series BMW, the engine softly purring, parked in the quiet corner of a parking lot. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting an orange glow over everything, but I barely noticed the beauty of the evening. My thoughts were consumed with everything that had been weighing on me.
The therapy session I just had with Jackie, my mentor and psychiatrist, kept running through my mind. I had gone in there with every intention of unloading, of venting about Damier, about how lost I felt after everything that had happened. But I left with my heart heavier than when I had walked in.
Jackie had listened patiently as I poured my heart out. I told her about how Damier had shut me out for two weeks, how I felt like I had been too much for him, too intense with my “diagnosis” of his mental health, and how I had ended things when I wasn’t ready. I talked about the confusion, the way he seemed to spiral, and how I felt like I couldn’t do anything to fix it.
But Jackie didn’t comfort me. No, she did something worse—she told me I was wrong. The words hit me like a punch to the gut. She didn’t say it harshly, but it stung nonetheless.
“Imani,” she said, her voice firm but kind. “You can’t fix him. You shouldn’t have diagnosed him, either. That’s not your place if you are trying to enter a relationship with him. He’s not a patient. He’s a man, and you crossed a line. You’ve been pulling him into your own mess of anxiety and trying to make sense of his life when you need to focus on your own.”
Her words rattled me. They cut through the self-righteous armor I had been wearing. She was right. I hadn’t been treating Damier as a man—I had treated him like a case study. I had been so focused on trying to help him that I hadn’t even acknowledged how much I needed help myself.
Jackie continued, “You need to fix things with him. You’re not perfect, and neither is he, but pushing him away because you couldn’t face your own feelings was a mistake. You’ve been through a lot—your brother’s health, your career—now it’s time to face your own anxiety, your own fears. You need to take care of yourself before you can help anyone else, especially him.”
That last part hit hard. I had been trying to help Damier, but I hadn’t even started to deal with my own baggage. My mental health, my anxiety, my relationship with my brother—it all needed attention. I couldn’t fix everything around me if I didn’t start with myself.
I left Jackie’s office feeling like a hypocrite. I knew she was right. I had been avoiding my own problems while trying to fix everyone else’s. And the truth was, I was scared. Scared of confronting the mess inside me. Scared of what I might find.
But now, I couldn’t avoid it anymore. I had to face the truth—about myself and about Damier.
Snapping back into the present, my hands gripped the steering wheel as I took a deep breath. I had to fix things; I knew I couldn’t keep running from this. Although I wasn’t sure how to face Damier yet, I had to try. I had to go to him and apologize for pushing him away. It wasn’t about fixing him; it was about meeting him where he was.
I drove to Roscoe’s, trying to clear my head. As soon as I walked through the door, I felt my best friend’s familiar presence. Zaraa was sitting in our usual booth, grinning as I slid into the seat across from her.
“I’m so over reality TV,” Zaraa said, rolling her eyes. “I’m getting back to school. Gonna go for my nursing degree. Gotta stop letting these producers control my life.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, though my mind wasn’t fully on her words.
We ordered our food, and it came back quickly. I picked at my meal, a half-hearted attempt at enjoying the crispy wings in front of me. My mind kept wandering to Damier. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. The pain of breaking up with him, of pushing him away... It was suffocating. However, it was nobody’s fault but mine.
“Ugh! You need to make up with your man,” Zaraa said, frustrated, her hand waving toward me. “I don’t like this side of you, Dream. You used to be all bubbly, and you are hardly eating. But now? You’re all up in your head.”
I sighed, the heaviness of her words making my chest tighten. I had vented to her the night before. “I know. I’ve been stupid. I don’t even know how to approach him anymore.”
Zaraa raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Oh, I know what you need to do. Go get yourself some sexy lingerie. Show up at his place. Tell him how you feel. Apologize if you have to! You know how to get a man’s attention.”
I chuckled despite myself, but the idea lingered in my mind. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that. Plus, I did that at the beginning of our relationship. He isn’t fond of surprises, but he did let me in.”
“Girl, so what! You gotta make the first move. I know these niggas. He’s not gonna chase you down. You need to go get him before someone else does. A rich single man doesn’t exist for too long!”
I laughed again, this time a little louder, but it didn’t change the fact that Zaraa was right. I needed to face my fears. I needed to apologize, to be honest with him, and most importantly, with myself.
We finished up at Roscoe’s, and Zaraa and I headed to the mall. Taking her advice, I picked out a few lingerie pieces, each one making me hesitate a little more than the last. However, when I got home, I got cold feet.
$$$$$
I woke up the next morning with Damier on my mind. It felt like an endless loop—thinking about him, missing him, wondering how I could fix what I had broken. But I knew I couldn’t keep running away. I couldn’t keep pretending that I wasn’t scared.
I got dressed quickly, and before I could second-guess myself, I was heading out the door. I was going to his office. He hated surprises, but that was exactly what he was going to get. I needed to see him.
I got to the reception desk, and Mia was standing there talking to the receptionist. She was deep in her conversation, so she quickly told me Damier was in his office and pointed to the door. When I walked into the office, I didn’t expect to see what I did. Damier was sitting across from a woman, and they were laughing—laughing like they had history together. She was leaning in a little too close to him for my comfort. The sight twisted something inside me.
Damier looked up and froze when he saw me. His eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw something flash in his gaze—surprise, maybe even guilt.
“What you doin’ here?” he asked, his voice tight.
“We need to talk,” I said, my heart racing. “Can she excuse herself?”
The woman glanced at Damier, and he turned to her. “Wait in the lobby. We’ll finish in a few minutes.”
The woman and I briefly locked eyes, and I didn’t even ask about her. I didn’t care. This wasn’t about her. It was about us.
Damier and I sat on the couch in his office, and for the first time, I let myself break down in front of him.
“I’m sorry,” I started, my voice trembling. “I pushed you into something you weren’t ready for. I shouldn’t have diagnosed you. It wasn’t my place to do that. I don’t want you to feel like I’m judging you. I just... I’m sorry for how I acted. You were right. I was scared, and I didn’t know how to handle my feelings.”
Tears welled in my eyes. I hadn’t let myself cry in front of him before. But now, it was the only thing that felt right.
Damier scooted closer, wrapping his arms around me. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said, his voice soft. “I know my life isn’t easy to adjust to, but I’m gonna make it comfortable for you. I never meant to hurt you. We can take it slow, but we’ll get through this. Together.”
We stayed like that, silent, for what felt like an eternity. When he finally pulled back, he kissed the top of my head and said, “Come to my penthouse tonight. We’ll finish this talk then. I got a long list of shit to do here at the office. My mother is supposed to come with good news about my club.”
I looked up at him, finally able to ask, “Are you fucking her?”
He shook his head. “No. She’s just here for breakfast. She works for me, but I’m looking to find her something legit.”
I believed him. And with that, I finally felt the weight in my chest lift.
I left his office feeling lighter, ready to face whatever came next with him. I had apologized. Now, we could rebuild. But when I went to see my brother and mother, my day took a different turn.