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Story: Session 33
I showed up at Angel’s house a little earlier than planned, figuring I could help set up for my sons party. I used my key to let myself in and walked through the house to the backyard. It was empty except for a few workers setting up the bounce house. Angel was directing them.
After leaving her, my eyes fell directly on Solomon holding my boy, my son. Everything went rigid, and that old familiar anger I had been trying to get control of started bubbling up in my chest.
He was too comfortable, like he was part of my family. Like he had a right to be here, to be holding my son. And don’t be mistaken, it was my family. Me and Angel just weren’t together at the moment. My jaw clenched, and I started making my way over, ready to snatch Ekon right out of his fucking arms. I felt a hand on my arm. I turned to find Angel with that agitated look on her face, the one she got when I did something she didn’t like.
“What?” I snapped.
“Please don’t do this today,” she said quietly, pulling me off to the side of the house, away from all the eyes. “You’re in counseling. You’re being a good father. I’m thankful you’re taking the time to work on yourself. Don’t crash out because of Solomon. He’s part of our lives now.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why are you talking to me like I’m a nutcase?”
Her right eyebrow rose, but she didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at me with those soft eyes of hers. Then, without a word, she leaned in and pulled me into a hug. And just like that, all the anger started to melt away. She knew damn well I couldn’t stay mad at her when she was touching me. She smelled like fruit, sweet and soft, and her body felt like home against mine.
“I’ll behave,” I muttered, pulling away, but not before taking one last deep breath of her scent. When the fuck was I going to fall out of love with this woman?
I watched her walk back to the party, her hips swaying, ass bouncing, and for what felt like the millionth time, I wished I wouldn’t have fucked up. But it was okay. I was taking measures to rectify my mistake. Counseling was twice a week, AA was seven days. I wasn’t stopping drinking forever. I just needed not to do it to cope and to drink in moderation.
I kept my word to Angel, though. I played nice, kept my cool, even when I saw Solomon and my son together and wanted to put a bullet in his head. I focused on Ekon and my godson, playing with them and their little friends, making sure my son had the best birthday a kid could have. But once the sun went down, and the kids were finally in bed, the party shifted gears. It was time for the adults to unwind.
Dominoes hit the table like gunfire. I held a cold bottle of MD/2020, the blue liquid sweating like a whore in church on Sunday. I wasn’t sure where Angel found a case of them, but the blue liquid matched the party’s colors perfectly.
Jonas slapped down a domino with a loud crack, grinning. “Y’all better step it up if you wanna keep up,” he said, leaning back. With Naomi upstairs with the kids, he was more relaxed than I’d seen him in a day. I don’t know what he did to piss Naomi off, but I could tell she wasn’t really fucking with him.
Solomon sat across from me, chuckling, and it grated on my nerves. We locked eyes, and I held his gaze too long. Why in the fuck was he even here? What did Angel see in him? She wanted to be changing diapers in twenty years?
He ignored me, slamming down his own piece hard enough to rattle the table. “You’re talking a lot of shit for someone who just got lucky.”
Jonas shrugged, still smirking. “Luck’s got nothing to do with it,” he said, eyes on Solomon, completely missing the tension brewing in me. I clenched my jaw, the bottle nearly slipping from my hand. Why in the fuck were Jonas and him so fucking friendly?
Out of nowhere, things took a complete dive. Silas claimed Solomon was cheating.
Solomon smirked. “You calling me a fucking cheat, Silas?”
“I am,” Silas shot back, leaning forward. “What the fuck you gonna do about it?”
I kept quiet, watching.
“Man, it’s just a game,” Solomon said, but there was a warning in his voice. It sounded like, Chill the fuck out before you find out.
“Fuck that,” Silas snapped, shoving the table. He stood up, eyes locked on Solomon, his face all red. “You think you’re better than us? Talking about it’s just a game. You mature, huh?”
Solomon stood, his calm slipping. “I never said that, motherfucker.”
That’s all it took. Silas lunged, throwing a punch that connected with Solomon’s jaw. Chairs scraped back as Jonas and I jumped up, dragging Silas outside before it got worse.
We pulled Silas around to the front, near the cars. He was grinning. “Tell Angel I’m sorry,” Silas slurred. “I’m drunk. I’ll send them flowers or something.”
Jonas shook his head. “Why the hell did you hit that man, Silas?”
Silas grinned at me. “Because Cassius couldn’t without pissing Angel off, and I knew he really wanted to.”
The way I laughed physically hurt.
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