Page 59
Story: Session 33
I hated roses, especially as gifts. Who wanted something that lasted such a short time, then died? Solomon had sent me five dozen red ones, big and showy bouquets, filling my house with their heavy scent. I stared at them, thinking that if you needed this many flowers to say sorry, whatever he was hiding was probably really bad.
The card was short and to the point. Forgive me. I love you. Not even in Solomon’s handwriting, but neat and perfect like his secretary’s.
He showed up not long after five, still dressed in his daily suit, letting himself in, looking like he’d spent too much time thinking on the drive over, trying to figure out what lie to tell. I wasn't sure he was going to lie; I just knew whatever he was going to say wouldn’t be the whole truth about what I heard from his mom. He stepped inside, glanced at the roses, then looked at me like he was trying to gauge my reaction. He closed the door.
He came and sat next to me on the sofa. I still hadn’t said shit to him—not after how he’d talked to me.
“Angel,” he started, his voice careful. “My mother... she’s old-fashioned. She thinks I should be back home, taking care of family things, marrying someone from my own culture. She doesn’t think we’ll work because you’re younger and, well... different. But I don’t care what she thinks.”
I stood there, taking it all in. “Okay,” I said, trying to keep my tone steady.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for the way I talked to you. But Angel, I’m older. I’ve seen things. I know what’s best.”
His words irked me. It felt like he was putting me in my place, like I didn’t have a clue. Like I wasn't grown. I wanted to argue, but instead, I swallowed it down and forced a smile. “I get it. It’s fine,” I said.
But it wasn’t fine. I didn’t like how he made me feel, and if I said what I really wanted to say, that would be the end of us. I needed to think first this time. I had already ruined one relationship.
I forced a smile, feeling my throat tighten. “I was actually just about to head out. Can we talk about this later?” I said, reaching for my bag. “I promised Naomi I’d meet up with her. She’s been waiting.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I grabbed my keys, avoiding his eyes as I rushed to the door. I needed to get out before I said something I’d regret.
I had no plans with Naomi, but I headed there. It had been about four months since we’d hung out. I’d been stuck up under Solomon so much. When I pulled up to her place, her driveway was full, and there was a sign that said Come in.
As soon as I walked in, I realized I was crashing a private celebration. The way Naomi’s house was set up, you could see the dining area from the living room. Jonas, Silas, Charmaine, and Cassius were all there, Ekon sitting happily on Cassius’s lap, all surrounded at the dining table. There were a few other people I didn’t recognize. It was like I’d walked into a moment I wasn’t supposed to see.
Naomi gave me a half-smile, clearly surprised. “Angel! What’s up?”
“What’s the occasion?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
Cassius glanced up, meeting my eyes. “I’m three months sober. And celibate.”
“Wow,” I said, nodding. “That’s... that’s amazing.” I didn’t even know he’d stopped drinking, and I damn sure didn’t know he’d stopped fucking. But after the time I almost kissed him, we really hadn’t talked much. He was eyeing me. Ekon didn’t even pay me any attention, he was stuffing his mouth full of food.
Cassius noticed. “Ekon, speak to your mom,” he said gently, but Ekon just shook his head, focused on his food.
“It’s okay, let him eat.”
I knew my son loved me, but in the moment, it hurt. I smiled through it.
Naomi stood. “I’ll get another chair,” she said, trying to get me to stay.
“No. I just stopped by to say hi,” I said quickly. “I have plans with Solomon, actually.” I think that was the problem. I had let Solomon get in between everything.
I lied, but I couldn’t stay. I left, feeling out of place and more alone than I had when I walked in. I hurried out. I drove aimlessly until I found myself at a quiet park, parking under a tree and just sitting there, staring at nothing.
I was lost in my thoughts when my phone buzzed. A text from Cassius: Are you okay?
I looked at the screen, my chest tightening. I wanted to say no, that I wasn’t okay, that everything felt like it was falling apart. But instead, I just put the phone down and leaned back. My problems, outside of Ekon, weren’t Cassius’s problems anymore.
I wished I could drown out everything I didn’t want to feel.
Then I thought of a better idea. I pulled out my phone, scrolled until I found Cassius’s therapist, and dialed the number. I asked his secretary for a referral.
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