Page 52

Chapter Thirty-Nine

As the vehicle eased to a stop in front of her apartment, Britain eagerly reached for the door to exit the car herself.

"Don't do it," Priest warned her as he got out the car to make his way around to assist her out.

She took his hand, her other hand holding the length of her gown. She thanked him before clicking her heels against the pavement of the parking lot to get to her door.

Priest followed behind her. It was evident that Britain was feeling ill about him. Since the incident with Paula, she hadn’t uttered two words to him. As she searched her clutch for her key, he remained leaning against the wall behind her. He saw all the frustration etched into her face. She finally attained the key from her clutch, using it to enter her apartment.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she mumbled dryly as she stepped inside, immediately shutting the door behind her. Britain didn't even give Priest the chance to come in. She knew if she granted him access, things would snowball into something bigger.

Britain had fallen victim to his lack of response. She couldn't believe Priest never even attempted to tell her that she was wrong and that she was all in her head. All he did was cowardly opt out of the conversation, serving her absolutely no clarity about what his feelings were when it came to Paula. Britain was able to convince herself that there was no way he still loved Paula. He couldn't possibly love her the way he did and still love Paula. Priest took his love for Britain extremely seriously, so Britain knew better than to downplay it. However, his lack of response justified that there were still feelings or even sensitivity left behind for Paula.

Britain knew once she calmed herself down from the internal hysteria, she would realize that right now, she was the pot calling the kettle black. At one point, she found herself in a limbo of emotions about Cameron, and Priest had to ask where he stood in her life. Now, that the shoe was on the other foot, and she had to ask Priest about Paula. She felt like a hole had punctured her heart. She simply couldn't handle it.

No response, though?!

Britain inhaled a deep breath. She wanted to be rational about this, but it was taking so much out of her. She wanted to know. A simple yes or no would have sufficed. Now she had to deal with being oblivious until Priest came up with a response. By then, he may just have been telling her anything to keep her happy.

Britain took in another deep breath; this time her eyes were shuttered closed to keep herself calm. "He loves you, Britain," she affirmed herself. "There's just no way." She shook her head.

As she was calming herself down and convincing herself with what she wanted to hear, her doorbell rang. She hadn't made it too far into her apartment. Whisking around, she checked the peephole and just as she expected, Priest was standing on the other side of the door. The fishbowl view of him through the peephole allowed Britain to see the disappointment that masked his face.

Britain stood on the other side of the door, simply just eyeing him. She was contemplating whether she should let him in. A part of her felt like if she did, she would be hit with the truth that would leave her devastated, while the other part of her felt like if she didn’t, she could just keep running from her issues and eventually forget about them.

"I'm not leaving, Britain!" His baritone voice sent chills down her spine as he hung his head low in regret.

Britain swallowed down a pit of nerves that were beginning to accumulate in her throat. "I said I'll see you tomorrow!" she said to him from the other side of the door.

She wanted to run .

Priest shook his head. Going separate ways from Britain without being on good terms wasn't something he was willing to do. Since they’d gotten together, they'd never done such a thing, so he wasn't about to start now.

"You can either open up and say whatever you have to say in whatever manner you please, and I'll take it!" he suggested before stating his other option. "Or I can use my key, and this can be about some whole other shit!" He spoke loudly to make sure she could hear him through the thick door.

"Don't you dare fucking flip this on me!" Britain spat angrily.

Priest let out a sigh as he ran his hand down his face. "Britain, I have bigger shit to stress about!" he argued from the other side of the door. He was giving her a chance to allow him in on her own so she could shout, gripe, or scold him in whatever manner she so pleased.

Instantly, Britain's mind focused back on the sudden passing of Jamari that was weighing down on him. It had only been a day. He was still distraught. "I'll see you tomorrow, Priest!" she reiterated, hoping he would just throw in the towel and allow her to take some time for herself and he do the same.

Priest let out a deep sigh before reaching into his pocket and extracting the key. The sound of him inserting the key into the lock made Britain instinctively arm the door with the chain. Priest turned the key, unlocking the door. Britain took a step back, knowing he would push the door open. As expected, he did. The door didn't make it too far since she had already set the chain on it.

From the slight opening the door now had, she could hear Priest let out a hollow breath of frustration and agitation. "Britain, open the door," he ordered her in a stern voice.

"I don't want to have this conversation right now," Britain told him, not budging to open the door.

"What's the change of fucking heart, Britain?! You went from wanting a response to not wanting one in a matter of a few minutes?!" Priest gritted as he continued to jerk the door. He was beginning to grow infuriated. All he wanted to do was talk. If she didn't want him to stay, he would respect that, but a conversation needed to be had, and it needed to be one where they were face-to-face and weren’t separated by a door.

"The truth, Priest!" she admitted. "That's the change of fucking heart! You telling me that you still love this woman despite what she's put you through would devastate me!" she clamored out.

Priest halted from jerking the door back and forth. With his massive hand palming the door, he leaned against it. "It's not the truth, Gioia." His rugged voice instantly softened.

"Just stop. If it weren't the truth, you would have given me a response," Britain interjected.

"Gioia, I fucked up. Alright?" A tone of defeat laced his words. "That was the wrong time to stay silent, but I did anyway. I don't know why, but I did. I'm sorry for the confusion," he apologized to her sincerely.

"Do you still love her?" Britain asked Priest, her voice low in volume and filled with sadness.

Priest sighed. "No," he denied. "What me and Paula had was never love on her part."

"Priest, you loved her, though, and you probably still do," Britain insisted.

"Gioia, you can't love someone who doesn't love you back," he told her. "I had to learn that. She didn't love me, so what I used to feel for her no longer applies. It's been years, Britain. I outgrew her, outgrew my mentality from then and outgrew my feelings."

Britain ran her fingers through her hair, stress and confusion getting the best of her. She didn't want to feel as though she was gullible. What if Priest was just telling her what she wanted to hear? She stood deep in thought for a moment. Priest was a man of his word; he wouldn't lie to her. He wasn't a liar.

"Why didn't you respond?" she uttered.

Priest defeatedly shrugged his shoulders. "Again, Gioia, I don't know. I don't love Paula. I stopped a long time ago," he stated. “She fucked me over and left me high and dry. Yes, there’s still a little part of me that thinks of the what ifs, but I know better.”

"Priest, are you fucking serious?!" Britain's aggression immediately sparked within her. “What the fuck do you mean by the what ifs ?!” Roughly she slammed the door shut, reaching up to unchain the door. Once she finished, she yanked the door open to be face to face with Priest. "How can you tell me you don't love her, but you're thinking about the what ifs in the same fucking sentence?!" she heaved, enraged as her fist threw blow after blow onto his built chest.

Priest’s massive hands clenched around Britain's wrists, restricting her from punching him anymore. Her emotions of vexation, pain, and disrespect had gotten the best of her, and she resorted to getting physical. With Britain still in his grip, Priest pushed his way into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.

She squirmed in his grip, trying to yank her wrists from his burly hands, but her strength was no match for his. Priest never expected for the night to go sour like it had now. He also never expected Britain would be the one lashing out like this.

"How fucking dare you?!" Britain screeched. "You don't love me!" Her hysteria of anger had now meshed with sadness, causing tears to flee from her soft, feline-like orbs. Priest knew he was the reason behind her tears. This pulled at the strings of his heart. However, he needed to gain control over Britain. It seemed as though she had blacked out and was set to go on a rampage if he didn't.

In one swift movement, Priest abruptly pressed Britain against the door, securing her wrists above her head. "Stop!" he jeered down at her sternly.

Britain’s chest pumped up and down unsteadily. Her jaws were clenched as her usual light eyes that he would get lost in were overcome with darkness. Britain was feeling as though her life was one fucked up repetitive take of the film Groundhog Day .

She healed herself.

Found a man.

Gave her all.

Fell in love.

Got played .

Just when she thought the cycle had run its final lap in her life, she was faced with the reality that the cycle was actually never ending.Priest had just begun his own cycle, not realizing that he had driven Britain to the brink of insanity.

She snapped.

Britain’s eyes seared into Priest. Her anger immediately fled, and her sadness took over. "I wished I never asked," she croaked before falling into heavy cries. Her petite body shook mildly in Priest’s arms. Her head hung low as tears turned her flawless makeup into rubbish. She had just given up.

"Brit—" Priest began but immediately stopped. He was on the verge of telling her to stop crying, but he knew it wouldn't be right. She had a lot of anger and pain suppressed inside of her that she needed to let out. This was her chance. "I don't love her." He rested his head on top of hers as he spoke in a soothing voice.Britain had buried her face into his chest, letting her cries ventilate out of her. Priest had wrapped her in his arms, consoling her.

"I don't love her," he reiterated for her. "She still holds power over me, and I hate to tell you that. Paula was the first women that I let into my heart, and she broke it with no remorse. Yes, I think of the what ifs because the way we ended things left me with no clarity or answers. One day, we were good, and the next, she was gone. I loved her. I thought she would be the one I marry. She abandoned me when I needed her the most, though, and for that, I can never look back or forgive her. She’s dead to me, yo," Priest brokenly admitted, his words inflicted with the pain of the damaged person he had become from Paula's selfish actions.

He cupped his hands around Britain's face, adjusting her head to look up at him. Tears stained her face as her eyes tinted red. Her makeup was runny and lipstick smudged from carelessly nestling her head into his chest to wail in tears.

"I dismiss her because I know she can still manipulate me. She knows my weaknesses. I want to get to a point of healing where I can forgive her and hold no hatred or animosity toward her, but that's a work in progress that I haven't even started on. She still affects me, but I do not love her." His words seeped into Britain. Priest was speaking his truth, no matter how painful it was for him and Britain to come to terms with it.

Priest could understand why Britain would lash out the way she had. She was a woman who had been through a lot within her time. Her last relationship left her broken and she had vowed to herself that she wouldn't go through that again. No one who had been through so much darkness from a relationship wanted to hear that the last female still held some ground with her new man.

"I love you, yo," Priest declared. "You're everything I could ever imagine in a woman, Britain. The shit you do for me is unmatched. You're my rib. Nobody could take your place. Aight? Don't ever think otherwise," he told her with deep seriousness.

Hearing him say that only intensified Britain's cries. She felt conflicted, even though Priest confirmed all she needed to know. "I'm sorry," she apologized between tears as Priest peered down at her.

His orbs had softened, and his heart pained to see her in tears. "None of this is your fault,” he asserted while shaking his head.

Britain's cries had elevated into full blown sobs. Priest couldn't help but to feel like she was crying about something different now. It seemed like her tears were never ending. He realized that not only were her emotions and mind in a state of distress, but her body was as well due to how it was shaking. Priest lifted her from the ground, cradling her in his arms. He navigated through the apartment, reaching her bedroom.

He sat her on the bed where she immediately curled her body into the fetal position. Priest released a sigh. He wanted her to stop crying, but it was evident that she wouldn't do so any time soon.

Priest waded over to her vanity, grabbing her makeup wipes. With a few wipes in hand, he gently began clearing her face of the ruined makeup.

"I can't s-stop!" she cried out, referring to her crying.

Priest stopped wiping her face free of the makeup, and his eyes bore into hers.

"I know. Let it out," he encouraged her. Priest knew that deep down inside, her harbored emotions from the loss of her daughter, along with all the other things she had numbed herself from feeling, had resurfaced.

Although Britain was in full-blown sobs, Priest still managed to rid her face of as much makeup as he could. He tossed the used wipes in the waste bin before shedding his suit jacket that was stained with her makeup. He stepped out of his shoes before getting into bed right behind Britain.

He pulled her close, consoling her in his arms. Priest couldn't help but think about how well Britain fit for him. Her pain was clear and evident to him, just as his pain was clear and evident to her. They both had gone through so much and showed so little.

After an hour of endless crying, Britain had fallen asleep. Priest held her with no complaints throughout the night. He had finally seen Britain at her lowest, and honestly, he didn't think any less of her. Seeing her this way just proved his point about how strong she was.