Page 8 of Out of Bounds (Atlanta Demon Series #4)

Getting up from the bed, I tried to walk away, but my feet felt like they’d been nailed to the ground.

My eyes roamed around our bedroom, the same bedroom I’d kissed her goodbye a thousand times before.

Unlike those previous times, this goodbye was final.

This goodbye was one I couldn’t come back from.

This goodbye was the nail in the coffin for my marriage.

It took me a few hours to pack my shit up; well, as much of it as I was willing to take.

When I made the final descent down the stairs, my wife was sitting in the breakfast nook, drinking a cup of coffee.

I could tell that she’d showered and tried to pull herself together because she was in her robe and her hair was wrapped up in a towel.

Watching Masai as she stared out of the window with the mug between her palms, I found the courage to speak.

“So…” I mumbled lowly and shoved my hands in the pockets of my sweats.

“I still have a bunch of stuff upstairs and in my office. If you don’t mind—” I held my hands up.

“I’ll come get them after I find a place. ”

She huffed. “Whatever.”

“Maddie Claire has been calling; she’s waiting to talk to you.”

“We’ve talked already.”

“Cool.” I nodded. “Sai…” I sighed. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” she whispered and tilted her head to gaze at me. “And so am I.”

The tears that littered her lower lids were no longer there. Instead, a sorrowful look rested on her face. Those eyes that I’d fallen in love with all of those years ago stared back at me with angst.

“Once I get settled, I’ll come for the kids. Please, Masai… don’t mention any of this to them. I want to be the one to break the news about what’s happening.”

“Umph.” She snorted. “Of course, you do. You don’t have to worry… It’s not my story to tell.” She shrugged before turning back to the window. “Leave the key and the garage opener on the counter.”

“Okay.” Letting out an exasperated breath, I rolled my neck side to side. “I know my words don’t mean shit to you right now, Masai, but you were perfect—are perfect. Too perfect, in fact. This was all on me.”

“Sure,” she muttered.

Figuring I’d tortured her enough, I turned to walk off.

When I reached the front door, I halted in my tracks.

My hand was on the knob, but I couldn’t turn it.

I physically couldn’t bring myself to turn the knob.

Walking out the door was me coming to the realization that it was really over, and Masai was leaving me.

Turning around, my eyes swept over the living room.

Everything looked the same in the room where we once gathered many nights as a family, but nothing felt the same.

My throat closed. Shit; for a moment, I felt like I was about to fall.

My sorrows were suffocating, insufferable even.

Tucking my bottom lip between my teeth, I sucked in a sharp breath and willed myself to twist the knob.

Once I’d pulled the door close behind me and heard the locks click, the tears started up again.

Every step down the driveway felt like I was walking to my death.

The minute I got into my truck, I was sure that I would pass away.

There was no second home that I could rest my head at.

This was my home—the only home I’d had since the day we relocated from Philly.

This was the home where I was supposed to watch my kids grow up—the home where I was supposed to send them off to college.

This home was for the family and me that I built and nurtured.

Walking away from it felt like death. I was dying slowly, departing the house that was my home, but not anymore.

When I reached my truck, I tossed my duffle in the back seat with the rest of my shit and hopped into the front seat with no destination in mind.

On the days when I felt defeated and as if life was barreling down on me, I sought solace in my wife.

She was the one who always held my head up and kept me from crumbling.

I no longer had that safe haven. Instead, I had a truck full of shit that I didn’t know where the fuck I was going to put it.

I’d driven around for hours before deciding to check into a suite at the closest hotel.

I knew my wife wouldn’t be calling me to come home, so I’d turned my phone off when I left the crib earlier.

Now that I was settled in my room, I needed to hear Masai’s voice.

I grabbed the phone off the table and dialed her number, only to be met with her voicemail.

After listening to her greeting, I waited until it prompted me to record my message.

“It’s me. I… I don’t know what I wanted, Masai.

” Resting my elbows on my knees, I held the phone with one hand while rubbing the back of my neck with the other.

“I know nothing that I say will take away the pain that I caused. I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt you, Masai. Never in a million years would that be my goal. I love you so fucking much, baby.”

Ending the call, I dropped the phone in my lap, rested my head against the couch, and slammed my eyes closed.

I could’ve told her how I would go above and beyond to fix the mess I’d made, but the reality was that I had another kid out there.

There was no fixing that because he was mine.

My child wasn’t going away, and I would eventually have to introduce him to my other kids as I attempted to explain how Daddy messed up.

Almost instantly, rage filled my body. If only Ashton had kept her fucking mouth closed and allowed me to tell Masai, I wouldn’t be staring at a bed that wasn’t mine.

I’m not saying the outcome would’ve been different, but I know for a fact the shit hurt more because it came from someone else and not me.

Swiping my phone from my lap, I went to my messages and typed in Ashton’s number.

Me:

I hope you’re happy. Masai’s gone. She left me. I won’t sit up here and pretend like this is all on you cause I know what part I played. I made some fucked up choices that I can’t take back.

But airing out my business to my wife the way you did. The messages and the receipts and shit. All of that blew my fucking marriage up.

I don’t know what you thought would come of this or what you was hoping for. But if you was trying to get one up on me you succeed.

I don’t know what story you told her but it’s a fine line between the truth and your imagination. You crossed a line.

Going forward we gone let the courts handle everything from here on out. I’on want shit to do with you. And if you think you gone be bitter and stand in the way of me and my son you got another fucking thing coming.

I was spiraling, and to keep it real, I ain’t give a fuck.

I lost my wife, and my fucking family. Mentally, I was on one; my fucking mind was reeling, and nothing good could come from the thoughts I had running through my head.

Powering my phone back off, I stretched out on the couch and covered my eyes with my arm.

This had to be what death felt like because I really felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest.

I was struggling to breathe. All I could do was pray that God put it in Masai’s heart to forgive me.

Without my wife and kids, I was nothing.

I may have been a football star to those who knew of me, but to those who truly knew Kreed Dolla, they knew I needed Masai.

I had brought all of this on myself. I had nobody to blame for my current predicament but myself.

And believe me, I was feeling it all. Death would be taking the easy way out.

I needed to suffer—I wanted to feel the same pain my wife was feeling because I deserved that.

Hell, if I could take on her pain, then maybe I would feel better. But I couldn’t.

The only thing I could do was give her the space she needed and try to figure out a starting point to put my life back together, in hopes that it would continue to include Masai as my wife.