Damn, Denial - Small Truths - Pt. 2

Damn, Denial

1. Small Truths

Pt. 2

234 W. Polk St.

Chicago IL, 60605

            I laid across the couch of Camille’s new place with my ass poked up in the air, begging for attention. She ignored me, lighting three Jo Malone candles and pouring herself a glass of cognac.

“Ahem.” She caught my attention, raising a glass to see if I wanted some.

“Mmm, no. I’m okay.” If I drink, I’ll act.

“Are you staying here tonight?”

“Is Mel?”

“Probably.”

“Then no.” Why the fuck would you think I would deal with that.

“Oh Kay.”

“What?”

“You’re not going to get over this, are you?”

“I don’t want to hear y’all fuck all night.” Especially considering where I’m at.

“Why because you want to join us or because you’re not getting any?”

“Hardy har mothafucking har. I’ll have you know I was nutted in just hours before dinner.” Oh, yeah, say that shit proudly. Camille’s face went stern.

“Did you want that?”

“No.” my voice grew quiet.

“Are you ready to talk?”

“What is there to talk about? I’m supposed to be planning a wedding.” I sat up and glanced out the window. The city stood still, and the water swayed calmly.

“You told me that you would talk to me, so talk. It’s me.” She came and sat next to me. Her sweet smell redirected my attention.

“How is the sex?” I switched the subject. Camille cackled and turned her head, before standing and walking toward what I presumed is her room. I did not hesitate, I stood up and followed.

“Why do you want to know? You’ve had us both, you can infer.” …. Oh, bitch. I fell silent. Camille turned to me and smirked before undressing in front of me. I know that I should’ve turned, or had a more friend-like stare, but I didn’t. As I watched the suit fall to the floor my eyes followed her legs back up. She paid me no attention, strutting to her chest of drawers to grab her silk pajamas before heading to the bathroom to shower. Her skin was warm and soft. She released her hair from the bun, and it fell past her shoulders. I just stared. She was the equivalent of art. I walked towards her, my hands tracing her thighs. She stared into the mirror at me and I gave her direct eye contact back. She leaned her head onto my hand and pushed her body against me so that it backed me against the wall. My hands found her hips with ease and I held her against me. The air between us got thick as my eyes scanned all of her. I didn’t want to move, but I knew I should.

“You staying or going?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder. I couldn’t tell if she was talking about watching her shower or staying the night. Though neither was a good idea.

“I should probably get going,” I muttered before retreating out of the bathroom. To my surprise, she followed me.

“What are you hiding from everyone? Most importantly, what are you hiding from yourself?” She called out and I froze. I didn’t expect the flip.

“How unhappy I truly am.” I turned to face her, leaning against the frame of her door.

“Why – why would you hide that? What does hiding that do for anyone?”

“I convinced everyone Daniel was the one. I sold this story about finding happily ever after and true love and getting everything you want after being played countless times and then boom. You’re wrong. No one talks about the inner disgust you feel when you were blindsided yet again – only this time, you played a vital role in blindsiding yourself and everyone else along with you.”

“Upholding the vision and expectations of everyone else isn’t your job.”

“People will stop caring after a while, you know? Stop believing you.”

“And?”

“Who wants to be alone in all of their thoughts?”

“That’s what you are right now, though. Pretending like everything is perfectly okay on social media. Selling a dream. Planning a wedding. Acting like parts of you don’t still wonder about us.”

“Stop.” I said and began looking for my coat.

“I know that’s not what you want to hear,”

“Camille, just stop. I’m leaving. Mel is coming over. I’m leaving.” I reassured myself as I gathered my things. She held the rest of her words and watched as I scrambled. I didn’t even bother to say goodbye, just went out the door.

When I made it out of her building, the air was maddening. I held myself tightly as my eyes scanned for where I left my car. As I approached it, I prayed there wasn’t a ticket on it. Fortunately for me, something was in my favor tonight. I climbed into it, turned it on, and sank into the seats. The tears didn’t have the energy to stream down my face – instead, they pooled in the ducts of my eyes, faded, and then mimicked the same pattern. I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I wasn’t going back to his house. Hell no, they can enjoy their evening together. Now, more than ever, I yearned for my old place. To sink into the sheets in my hidden space and ghost everyone. Even my practice didn’t feel like my own because he was laced into pieces of it. I felt sick to my stomach again – that’s all I ever felt these days. My thoughts were jumbled, and if I tried to talk to people, I found myself an unstable emotional mess. It was easier not to talk at all. To smile and reassure everyone I was figuring it out. That was partially because I was still trying to understand what was going on, how I got here, and why.   

228 E. Ontario St.

Chicago IL, 60611

In therapy a year ago, I was in the process of eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR) where we determined that I feel like hotels are my safe space. While on the surface we thought it was the happiness that I experienced from vacation as we dug deeper, it was the inaccessibility, ease, and comfort. The thought that I could still do everything I determined necessary, eat, shower, relax, work – from one space and never leave. In tandem, the thought that no one knew where I was unless I decided to openly share. The comfort of anonymity and solitude were unmatched in my mind.

Staring out the window I made the decision to turn my location off on my phone and text my therapist. I hadn’t decided when I would tell Daniel that I wasn’t coming home anytime soon or if I would at all. Would he even actually notice.

Rahkell: Jacqueline, when is your next emergency appointment, we need to talk. 10:32 PM

Jacqueline – Therapist: Hi Rahk, how about 8:30 AM tomorrow? Are you in a safe place? Do I need to call you now? 10:33 PM

Rahkell: No, just really need to talk through some things – sorry should’ve specified considering I know better. 8:30 AM is perfect. 10:33 PM

Jacqueline – Therapist: Understood – rest and drink water. See you in the morning. 10:34 PM

She was so understanding and methodical. Even her ability to text at ease this late at night, what kind of therapist was I to my patients, because my life did not allow. Fuck, the patients. We need to figure out if we’re working tomorrow. I know I couldn’t be the only therapist who needed therapy.

~

By 5 AM, I hadn’t slept and was on my third bottle of overpriced wine, wrapped in the back up set leggings and t-shirt I kept in my car. Despite desiring silence and rest, sadness and the desire for sorrow provoked me to be laying across the King Sized bed, singing out of key with wine spilling down my cheek.

“In a perfect world – you’re understanding – I’m not a perfect girl I would drop my fears at the door. I would only bring myself and nothing more. And you leeeeettt meeeeee be a woman.” I sang, in a drunken slur and then, to my surprise, I heard the knob turn on the door of my room. I sat up instantly. This is the part of the movie where I die and no one knows where I am because I decided to turn off my location and evade my problems instead of talking them out like I know how to fucking do because I went to school for it – you dumb bitch. I sat up, wine bottle at hand, its original purpose was comfort, but now it would be a weapon.

“How the fuck does this key work?” I heard someone mutter outside the door. I waited for someone else to respond to them, but heard nothing. I had watched enough videos online to know this could all be a set up and that they wanted me to open the door. I took a few deep breaths and closed my left eye, pressing the right one against the peep hole. To my surprise, I saw a quite tall, sienna brown figure with a low fade. She looked confused as she stared into her phone and then back at the door, determined to figure it out. My anxiety calmed a little before I decided that I was going to say something. I took two deep breaths, clenched the neck of the wine bottle and flung the door open. When I did, I had to look up slightly to meet eyes with her. Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

“Is there a reason you’re attempting to get into my room?” I asked, stern.

“Well, that would explain why my key isn’t working.” She nodded to herself.

Damn, Denial - Small Truths - Pt. 1

Damn, Denial 

3.   Small Truths

Pt. 1

222 N La Salle St

Chicago IL, 60601

            I strutted into the restaurant, pulling my coat off before I arrived at the table. Ahead of me, I could see Camille, sitting in a hunter-green suit, her chest tattoo peaking. She stared at me from head to toe before I reached the table.

“For someone who didn’t want to see me, you sure are dressed up,” she nudged as I stood in front of the table smiling at her.
“Relax,” I said and finally made my way to the table. She pulled me by the hand and embraced me. Her smell took over my senses and my body was calm. For a moment I pulled back and we stared one another in the eye, I watched her pupils dance between dilation and I’m sure mine mimicked their rhythm. A sign of love in a pure form – even if distant. We didn’t speak, just let our eyes scan one another to ensure that we were as we left one another – whole.

“Order whatever you want.” She smiled at me. You’re not on the menu, love.  

“When did you get back in town?”

“A couple of hours ago. You’re the first person I wanted to see.”
“How was your trip?”

“Top 10 was a dream.”

“What made you take Mel?” No holding back, huh? Our server approached the table.

“We’ll do the porterhouse for two. Two lobster tails. Whipped potatoes and sauteed broccoli. A Caesar for the table and whatever wine is recommended.” Camille didn’t take her eyes off me when she ordered but addressed our server’s presence with our order. She turned momentarily to smile and hand over the menus.

“I’ll put that right in.” our server assured Camille before walking off.

“I told you we’re together now, Rahk.”
“How?”

“How not?”

“That’s not why I introduced the two of you. It was for networking.”

“And then things shifted. There isn’t anything wrong with that. I’m honestly not sure why this is bothering you so much, especially considering,”

“Don’t go there. I could’ve stayed at home to be reminded of that, and that’s something we can unpack at a later date. I don’t understand why you told me you loved me, knowing you wanted to be with Mel?”

“Because I do, and I always have. Think about everything we’ve been through together. Think about all I have overcome with you. Not to cause any flashbacks – but, when everything went down – whom did you call?” Mel’s hand casually rested on my thigh and my mind went absent for a moment. I could vaguely call my distressed calls to Camille. The fact that at that moment she was the person I thought to call – no one else, spoke volumes. I was terrified and she was my sense of comfort.

“Then why, Mel? Why never?”
“I don’t believe in starting things in the midst of healing.” Her words, true and necessary were equally as painful.

“I understand.” Those were the only words that I could manage to get out.

“You didn’t think we would fall for one another, did you?” Wasn’t the fucking plan. She asked blatantly as plates sat down in front of us.

How could I not? I hadn’t seen Mel in person in some time, but her image was etched in my brain. Last I saw her, her locs were pulled into an updo. I remember her facial features being softer. Her eyebrows were arched perfectly and her lashes full. She was the perfect representation of a dominant femme. Her copacetic demeanor, the rationale for everything, and intelligent way of existing. The only one who could truly match her would be Camille, but in her own special way. Though she was clearly in charge in every aspect of her life, the intimacy she craved was quite the opposite. They could fulfill one another’s needs with ease. Mel had a way of making someone feel like they were the only person on earth, likely because they were. Her ability to center you in her world and cater to your every need was unmatched. Camille was a powerhouse, all she needed was devotion and she could and would make any dream come true. I thought bringing them together to collab on an idea that Mel had was a good idea, but I hadn’t considered what their minds would be like aligned, and what all that time together could do. My own selfish desires for both of them blinded me to their abilities together. It was the same thing that had me at a table pouting about something that was not my business and shouldn’t have been any of my concerns.

“It wasn’t the first thing to cross my mind,” I whispered, taking a bite of my salad.

“Well, mine either, but I’m happy. That matters, right?” She paused and made me look her in the eye. I did and for that moment I finally saw that she was. There was a piece unattained by anything we had encountered or our situation altogether.

“It does matter to me. You know that it matters to me. I just would’ve liked to know instead of finding out with the rest of the world.” My fingers danced across the table. My mind began to race. I wondered when I reached the point where nothing made sense in my world. My mind often felt clouded and I spent most of my days cycling through memories as they juxtaposed against my reality.

“What’s going on with you, Rahk?” she finally read into my mind. She took my hand into hers and held it tightly.

“Can we finish eating, first and then go somewhere?” I felt the anxiety that always crept in approaching, but I didn’t want it to happen here. I wanted to finish before we started.

Damn, Denial - Façade

Damn, Denial 

2.   Façade  

Michigan Ave, Unit G

Chicago IL, 60615

“Who are you all dressed up for?” his voice called from behind me. I stood in the kitchen waiting for food to appear in the fridge and fill the empty spaces.

“I went to eat with friends and then went to work, love.” I didn’t turn to greet him, instead, he came close behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Why don’t we go out to eat? You’ve had a long couple of days. What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything really, just not pizza.”

“That’s awkward because I was craving Giordano’s,” he smirked. I knew there was no changing his mind.

“We can do that, that’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, let me just change, and then I’ll be ready to go.” I kissed his cheek before departing.

As I rushed up the stairs, I caught a glimpse of the photos of us that lined the banister.  There was happiness etched into every single one of them. For a moment I paused and looked at one of us in all black. I remember feeling immensely lucky that day. Feeling as though I had found my person and I was finally safe. All I needed to do was plan a wedding, and my forever would start. I still feel like that sometimes – like some of the disagreements we shared were normal and small nightmares; that overall – this was still the same man whom I fell in love with and wanted to be a better person for.

“You okay?” his voice startled me as I turned quickly on the steps.

“Yeah, just realizing I haven’t scheduled our photos for this year, I should probably call the photographer.” I smiled down at him. He began walking up the stairs and met me in the middle.

“Why don’t we order in and spend some time together? I miss you.” He rubbed his hand across my cheek. My heart warmed.

“I would like that; I miss you too.” I closed my eyes and leaned into him. He took his hands and placed them around my hips before lifting me and walking up the stairs.

“I thought we were ordering food,” I said between tickled laughs.

“We are, but I need to do something else first.” He tossed me over his shoulder and headed straight for the room.

Now, see where the fuck has this man been for the past couple of months?

Daniel placed me on the bed gently before undressing me and then himself. Staring at me, he kissed up my leg, my side, and then my breasts. Naturally, my body gave in to his soft lips and his overall presence. He spread my legs and kissed my neck as he slowly slid in, knowing that I was ready, and my body welcomed him. Wrapped around him like a glove, I pulled him in with each stroke. Our lips met, not breaking rhythm.

“Mmm, D.” the words escaped my lips as my nails graced his back and held him in place. I felt so close to him and didn’t want the moment to end.

“You miss me?” the words danced at the front of my ear.

“Yee-ees.”

“Show me.” He lifted me and turned me around so that I was on my knees. He pressed my face into the pillow and took my hips into his hands before slipping back in. I wasted no time grinding back into him. Our bodies bounced off one another.

“Take it.” I could hear the pleasure in his voice. Gladly. I felt his fingers slipping as I picked up the pace quicker and quicker, he was lost in it, just like I wanted him to be. His strokes remained steady, but I could also feel his knees lock to hold in place. I couldn’t help it, I smirked.

“Shit, Rahk.” He muttered.

“Yes, baby?” I answered, seemingly innocent. Drown.

Naturally, though, Daniel wasn’t stupid and caught on to my method. Lifting me he laid me flat on my stomach and ensured I felt each blow.

            “Hmmm, fuck.” I called back, my cheek embedding into the mattress.

            “Mhmmm.”
            “D.”
            “Mmmhmm.” He called once more before his strokes stopped and he held into me. Did this mothafucka just….?

 I froze. He kissed my back, and laid on top of me and I couldn’t move at all.

“D?” I finally spoke into the silence of the house.
“I know, I know you’re hungry, I’ll get you food.” He responded with a chuckle.

“No, D. Did you, did you just cum inside of me?” I couldn’t believe I was even asking. Daniel had always been super careful – between his image and his parents, having everything in perfect order wasn’t an option, it was mandatory.

“Is that a problem?”

“I’m just, confused I guess this isn’t anything we’ve ever talked about.”

“You’re my fiancé. I plan on spending the rest of my life with you. You’ve been asking me to show you that I want to be here and that I’m still interested.”
“I appreciate you listening to me, but maybe a conversation first?”

“I need to ask you if I can cum inside you when you’ve made it clear you want to have my children?” He finally lifted off of me, realizing I was upset. As of late, I don’t even know if I want to have you, so yes, you need to fucking ask.  

“D, I’m not even on birth control, right now.” I sat up.

“So what? You want a plan B?” 

“I’m not really trying to fuck with my body like that either, I guess I just don’t know where this came from.”

“I thought you would be happy about this; this is me, taking a risk, showing you I’m ready to go to the next level.”

“The next level is our wedding; can we sit and plan that before I have to walk down the aisle with your baby inside of me?” I groaned before standing to go to the bathroom and lift myself up.

“I can’t believe you’re reacting like this, Rahkell. What’s been up with you lately?”

“What’s been up with me? What are you talking about?”

“You have no interest in this relationship anymore.”

“I’ve been carrying it for months, don’t tell me I don’t have an interest in it anymore.” Ooo, bitch. I wished immediately that I could tuck the words back into my mouth.

“You’ve been carrying it?” he sat on the edge of the bed. I fell silent. I knew I didn’t want to argue, but somehow my feelings got ahead of me.

“Let’s just drop it, D.”

“No, you brought it up, so let’s talk about it. You feel like I haven’t contributed to this relationship?”

“That’s not what I said. It’s all things we’ve talked about before. I just feel like we’re both really busy with work and, don’t have time to make time.”

“You make time for your friends all the time, Rahkell.” His words were cold. There were several shots that I could throw in return, but I didn’t have the energy. I did not want to make excuses for the way I dealt with the ways he left me alone in this relationship, so I decided to respond with silence.

“Daniel, Rahkell? Hellloooo?” We heard from downstairs, and both froze.

“Is that your Mom?” I mouthed. He nodded.

“Yeah, she wanted to go over wedding lists tonight.”

“Splendid.” I turned to retreat into the bathroom.

“One second, Ma, we’ll be down.” He called back.

~~

“Now that the guest list is finalized, I figured we could talk about wedding planners.” His mother closed the binder she made herself and turned to me.

“Oh? I figured I could finalize that once we set a date.” I half smiled, knowing that with her son’s behavior this wedding had been the last thing on my mind.

“Daniel told me the date was settled, is it not?” Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Um,” I turned to Daniel who nodded as though it was.

“September 9th.” They both said in unison and smiled.

“The day his father proposed to me.” She stared up as if to reminisce.

“Oh, uh, I mean that’s fine, this is my first time hearing it. But that’s fine.” I don’t know how the fuck either of you decided it was best that you decided on my wedding date, but sure, fucking go for it.

Three knocks came at the door to save me from the dreaded conversation. As Daniel rose to get it, I stood up to go to the kitchen and grab a drink. I needed to make a therapy appointment. Prioritizing everyone else’s mental health had me negating my own and the number of significant life changes that had occurred, for the worst might I add, was taking a toll on my body. I took the glass of orange juice I had poured myself and leaned against the counter.

“Dillon!” I heard his mother exclaim and I almost spit my juice out. You have to be fucking kidding me.

“I hope you don’t mind that I stopped by. I was coming to see Daniel and then I saw your car and just knew I had to stop.” Her voice echoed throughout the walls.

“You are always welcome.” I heard his mother’s chair dance across the floor, her footsteps following to what I presume to be giving Dillon a hug.

Dillon Chancefield, a childhood friend of Daniel’s. Both Dillon and Daniel’s mothers had a bit of an oops with two of the most eligible men in their collegiate class, and around 9 months later, exactly three weeks apart, Daniel and Dillon graced the world with their presence. Assisting one another through the process of college and newborns, their mothers grew extremely close and thus, so did Daniel and Dillon. In fact, the only thing that split them apart was the colleges they selected to go to, which, as you could guess was a total disruption to the family plan. You see, Daniel and Dillon were not raised like twin brother and sister, or close cousins. No, instead, to heal their inner trauma and live vicariously through their children, Farrah Mitchell and Dion Chancefield planned and raised their children to be perfect for one another. Each of them using their societal views of what the perfect wife and husband should be and infiltrating that between a mix of what they wished they had and how they desired for their children to live their lives. And now, here I was, fucking up all of their hard work. A shame. Truly.

I had the privilege of meeting Dillon two weeks after I thought it would a beautiful idea to let go of my own space and move in with Daniel. She “randomly” decided to appear in town and pop by his house. The thing is, she was pleasant. It would almost be what annoyed me the most. Though I could spend hours dissecting all of the ways she was plotting, I didn’t desire to. Instead, I decided to play oblivious. Ignorance is bliss, after all. Regardless, since that visit, I am supposed to find no motive at all that she is in the process of moving back to Chicago, purchased a home in the same neighborhood, and pops by whenever she pleases. In fact, I should be making the most of her presence and using her to help me wedding plan and learn even more about Daniel. Whatever that fucking means. The thing I didn’t like the most about Dillon is her hidden passive aggression toward me as if I was the first. If anything, everyone could cater their anger towards Gianni, she was, after all, the first fiancé. I just felt like overall we were too old to be playing these games and Daniel was too old to be allowing it to happen.

“Rahk?” I heard him call after me. A touch of sweetness behind my name. I wanted so badly for him to be innocent in all of this, but the occurrences refused to allow me to see him in that light.

“Hmm?” I called back, finishing my orange juice.

“Dillon stopped by, I figured I would order food for all of us, would you like Chinese?”

“Sure, that sounds great!” I exclaimed, putting my happy wife face on before heading into the dining area to great Dillon. I took several deep breaths before I smoothed the red velour of my jogging suit and brushed away the flyaways in my hair. Once I felt stable, I exited the kitchen.

“Hey, you!” I smiled and extended my arms out for a hug.

“Rahk! How are you?” She stood up to embrace me. Her hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and she wore a cream off-the-shoulder sweater dress with chocolate brown booties. I realize I forgot to mention in all my recounts that Dillon was drop-dead gorgeous. By far she could have anyone she wanted. Her seemingly docile nature, manicured fingernails, and overall aura were all pleasant to the naked eye. Though trapped by the inner workings of her mother’s mind, she was extremely intelligent and had done well for herself, pursuing her MBA. She worked for a larger company and did consulting on the side, so money was not an object, she just needed her picture-perfect man to finish the deal and there I was making him order Chinese food. Tragic, really. If it makes you feel any better, I hardly see the man. Between work and wanting to be left the fuck alone, I pretty much live here alone. Would you like half of the fourth that I get?

“I’m well! Fatigued mostly, dealing with clients, but it's what I asked for. How are you, how are things at work?”

“Oh they’re great, not sure if you remember that promotion I was talking to you about, but I didn’t end up getting it, instead they curated an entire position for me.” She announced proudly before flopping back down on the black leather couch. Farrah smirked with pride.

“That’s amazing, I can’t think of anyone more deserving, what will you be doing?” I leaned against the couch Daniel sat on and just as I did, caught a glimpse of his screen. I thought his head was buried in his phone ordering our food, but instead the words “I’m so proud of you, D. I can’t express it enough,” were being typed in a private message to Dillon all while we sat face to face. My eyes rose quickly as I returned to the conversation. I knew I had to remain poker-faced. What I cannot express enough is the immense desire to run upstairs and scrape any traces of your ejaculation out of me.

“I will be the coordinator of all of our executive clients and accounts.”

“That’s super dope and I’m sure will give you even more exposure for consulting,” as I was about to finish my conversation, my phone began to ring in my pocket. When I pulled it out, I saw Camille’s name on the screen. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to take this.” I hustled to a closed space.

“Hello?”
            “Meet me for dinner. I want to talk.”

“Now isn’t a good time.”

“Oh? Then when is?”

“I don’t know. Later, I’m handling some wedding stuff right now.”
“I just drove by your house. You don’t want to be there.” You are absolutely right. You’re not wrong.

“Why were you here?”

“Because I want to talk to you. I want to see you.” I paused. I knew that even if I went my presence wouldn’t be missed and I was dying to talk to someone about what was going on because keeping it to myself made me feel insane. At the same time leaving felt like I wasn’t fighting to stop the disruptions to my seemingly perfect soon-to-be union. Was I really just giving up?

“I was thinking a fat ass steak, as a form of my apology?”

“Sold, I’ll see you in twenty.” I hung up the phone before returning to the room.

“Well, cancel my portion of the order. I need to head out for an emergency client.” I announced seemingly sad.

“Tonight, right now, Rahk? Can someone else handle it?” Farrah seemingly pouted when we both know she was reveling on the inside.

“Unfortunately, no, but you all go on, seriously. It’ll be nice to catch up and then, Baby,” I said prancing over to Daniel just to fuck with everyone in the room. I made direct eye contact, flashed the fat ass rock on my finger, and caressed his face with that hand. “I’ll be home later.” I kissed his lips with such intention both Farrah and Dillon had to turn away. Yeah, sit in that.

I heard the conversation resume as I trotted up the stairs to put on my sexiest black dress. I, of course, would hide it under a peacoat and sneak out of the garage door. My heartbeat raced with excitement. I wanted to talk to Camille about everything, make her feel bad about Mel, gain some validation about the craziness going on in my current situation, and overall, just receive the attention that my current situation lacked, heavily.

Damn, Denial - Regression

Damn, Denial 

 1.   Regression

Michigan Ave, Unit G

Chicago IL, 60615

My mouth was glued shut. Not literally, but there wasn’t much more I could say or do. Sitting in the middle of that king-sized bed made me feel so small. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and winced, I looked like I had a long night and I had. The doorbell buzzed and startled me. Without removing my eyes from the reflection of myself, I let my fingers trace the sheets and grasped my phone. Clicking into the doorbell camera, an image of three men holding various bouquets of red roses stood at the door.

“Hello?” I said into the phone.

“Hi, there! We have a delivery for Ms. Rahkell Parker.” He said, his voice chipper.

“Oh, thank you. Just leave them on the doorstep.” My voice was neutral.

“Oh, uh, well it’s quite windy, you don’t think you would like to,”

“Leave them on the doorstep,” I repeated my tone sterner. He nodded and turned to the men beside him to align as they each set down two vases. I sighed loudly, closing the app. It was only a matter of time before the texts rolled in. Maybe dinner, or some other gifts. The same routine over and over. There wasn’t really a reason the sight of flowers should make me sick, but the never-ending pit at the bottom of my stomach created a sea of hopelessness. My hand twirled the large diamond on my ring finger so that the stone was on the inside of my palm. I pressed my hand close tightly in hopes the sharp pain would shake me into reality. Nevertheless, I remained numb and silent. I wanted to lay back down and curl into a ball, but I knew I couldn’t. I had evaded responsibilities for much too long and eventually, my friends would come looking for me. I finally convinced myself to climb out of the bed and go to the bathroom. Once I had a closer look at myself in the mirror, I became even more disappointed. The focus of my eyes shifted to the words written on a small acrylic board in the corner. As I had done every day for the past 8 months, I inhaled deeply and recited the words that reminded me that I was enabling a lie.

“Love is being seen. Completely. Both good and bad. It is unconditional. Love is being both heard and understood. I will listen and be listened to passionately, empathetically, and intentionally. The only person I have control over is myself. I control my actions and my reactions. I am thankful for who I was, who I am, and who I will be. In turn, I show unwavering, unconditional gratitude. At this moment, I am sad, but I am not embarrassed, nor am I intimidated by emotion. I feel everything. While I could feel anger, I will select the most powerful reaction, which is no reaction at all.”

One year earlier

I couldn’t tell you if it was the forehead kisses or the sunlight forcing its way through the curtains that woke me up first. I blinked my eyes a few times before stretching slightly and turning to my side.

“Mmm.” I heard a groan from behind me. 

“What’s wrong with you?” I said through a dry cracked voice.

“You always end up half-way off the bed and out of my arms.” He said and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me back in. My body slid across the soft sheets until my back crashed against his lower torso.

“And here I am, back up under you.” I closed my eyes and smiled. He kissed my ear and then exhaled.

“So, what do you want to do today, Dr. Rahk Parker?”
“I’m never going to get tired of hearing that Dr. D Mitchell.” I smirked and then turned over to him. 

“I’m extremely proud of you.”
“It doesn’t feel real sometimes. Starting at like 23 not even knowing what was ahead.”

“You’re almost ready to defend. Then comes graduation. You’re establishing your business and you feel like it’s not real?”
“Daniel, you have to think about where we were a year ago.”
“I prefer to focus on the present and the fact that I get to wake up to you every day. That’s nice.”
“Yeah?” I shook my head before he turned me over and pulled me in for a kiss. I took his face into my hands slowly. As I inhaled deeply, I smelled fresh batter and turkey bacon cooking.

“Baby, do you smell that?”
“I do.”

“What the hell?”
“That’s your chef for the weekend.”
“My chef?”
“Happy Birthday, Baby.”
“My birthday is Saturday. I’ve been reminding you all week.”

“Your celebration of life is all week.” He refuted.
“Let’s see. David Yurman on Monday, Cartier bracelets on Tuesday, a Noah hoodie Wednesday, and a chef today?”
“Relax, we just getting started.” He pulled me back in and began kissing me sweetly.

“Baby, I have to go. I have to meet Khaila at the florist.”

“Not before you eat.”
“I’ma eat.” I protested.
“Not before I eat.” He smirked and tossed the comforter over his head.

“Daniel!” I screeched and tried to wiggle away. It was no use; within seconds he had my legs wrapped around his neck and my nails dug into the sheets. I moaned out his name loudly and gave in completely.

~~

“Yoohoo!” a voice called up the stairs, bringing my eyes back to focus. I recognized it with simplicity and quickly maneuvered my face into the sink to rid of the dried mascara and eyeliner.

“Good afternoon! Ready for food?” Jessie called out as she paraded into my room. I nodded my head, still scrubbing at tear stains.

“I am, I need one of their lemonades and some bread, bad.” I joked. I turned to see Jessie decked out in a long coffee brown pea coat with thigh high snake skin boots. Her ESR tote sat just at the beginning of her wrist and her hair was pulled into a slick high bun.

“Oh, we’re getting dressed, dressed.” I mumbled over my toothbrush.

“Um, yes. Lunch once every other week isn’t going to kill you. I’ll go into your closet and grab you something. Also – I brought those roses in, they’re beautiful! What type of surprise is he on to spending $400 on flowers just because?” She smiled large. I returned a fake smile.

“You know, Daniel, always keeping me on my toes, girl!”

1447 E. 53rd St

Chicago, IL 60615

“Everyone has outfits solidified for next weekend, right?” Jessie asked.

“What’s the plan anyway?” Mahogany asked, staring at me. I had completely zoned out thinking of my birthday.

“I have no clue. Daniel said he would text you all.” I responded, slowly cutting through my chicken.

“Speaking of surprises,” Harmony said and flipped her phone. We all glanced in the middle of the table at the phone to see Mel and Camille photographed at the Top 10 event on the red carpet, hand in hand dressed in burnt orange tones.

“What the fuck? When did this become a thing?” I blurted out.

“I didn’t even know they knew each other.” Jessie whispered under her breath.

“Send me this. Now.” I said and began dialing on my phone.

“Rahk, calm down. Where are you going?” Mahogany called after me.

“To make a call.” I stormed out of the door and waited for Camille to answer her phone.

“Hey Rahk, I don’t have much time, I’m about to head into a meeting.”
“You took Mel to the fucking Top 10 event?”
“Ah have the photos dropped already?” She asked, calmly.

“Don’t spew that shit to me Camille. I thought you and Mel were strictly business.”
“Does it matter if we’re more?” she was short and unbothered.
“You told me you think you’re in love with me last week.” my words were cold. 

“And then you went home to Daniel.” Bitch, that is not the issue here.

“So, are you just fucking her or what?”

“No.”

“So. then what it is it?”
“Not that you’re entitled to any of my business, but I’m not just fucking her, Rahkell. We’re dating.” As she finished her sentence, I pulled the phone away from my ear and thought to throw it. The heads at my table turned as I pulled it back.

“Got it. I will mind my business from this point forward.” I hung up the phone without waiting for a response. When I returned to the table all eyes were on me.

“Are you good, mamas? Mahogany asked, staring me in the eyes.

“Just shocked to be informed that Mel and Camille are dating.” I muttered under my breath.

“Why does that matter, aren’t you in Daniel Land?” Jessie shot back, sliding a spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth.

“Is that the only comeback everyone has? When I was out here, no one seemed to be concerned. Now, I’m in a healthy situation, and all of a sudden, it’s a pun. Make it make sense.” I glanced around the table.

“Are you secretly calling us bitter bitches?” Mahogany joked and rolled her eyes.

“I’m getting bitter bitch vibes.” Harmony laughed.

“Did I say that? Or did I say y’all have been laying it on kind of thick ever since Daniel and I made it official.” I inquired poking at my food and twirling my ring around.

“I mean for a second there, we weren’t sure if it was going to be official.” Mahogany blurted out and brushed it off as if it were the wind.

“Excuse me?” I turned and looked directly at her.

“I mean, there were a few moments where we didn’t know if Daniel was going to make a decision. Then there was you, traveling down la la land. Was it you and Daniel? Or are you still missing Gustin, ooo or what about Reggie? Didn’t know if you all were going to settle down.”

“Mahogany, you’re taking it a little far.” Jessie interrupted.

“It’s not that you’re in a healthy relationship. All of us are extremely happy for you. It’s just that you have this way of letting your exes creep back in. It’s giving ‘if I can’t have you, no one else can.’.” Harmony mumbled.  

“I’m not in the mood to do this today.” I shut the conversation down and continued to chew my food in silence.

“The real question is – what are we wearing? Rahk, it’s not like you to be this close and not know. Where’s the theme?” When I glanced up from my food, all eyes were on me. Harmony’s eyes appeared just under her jet black bangs, and Mahogany adjusted her locs to the side.  

“I think it would be cute if we all went vibrant, let me do some digging tonight and I’ll put stuff in the groupchat,” I reassured them. They nodded and continued with their conversation. I stared at my phone watching texts pour in.

Daniel: Good afternoon, my love 1:37 PM

Daniel: Did you receive the flowers I sent? You never text me to say thank you. 1:37 PM

Daniel: I hope your day is going well. Again, sorry about last night. Sometimes I just get so in my head and that’s not really fair to you. 1:39 PM

Daniel: You could at least text back and tell me you’re okay, Rahkell. 1:42 PM

Rahkell: Sorry! Out to lunch - It happens to all of us. I love you and really loved the flowers, thank you, baby. I’ll see you tonight? 1:42 PM.

E. Monroe St

Chicago, IL 60603

“Hello Dr. Parker!” My receptionist happily called out as I walked into the building. I returned the smile.

“Hi Nina. How are you?”

“Swell! There’s quite a amount of flowers for you in your office. Your birthday week always brings them in.” She smiled. Her taupe skin glistened beneath her hunter-green sweater.

“I wish my allergies felt as welcoming to them,” I joked. “What’s on the schedule, today?”

“Two cancellations, and a request for an emergency appointment.”

“Claire?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Mmmmm, k, get her on the schedule.” I shook my head and walked back toward my office. When I got there, I removed the heels I wore to brunch and let my feet soak into the rug beneath my desk. I took a glance around at all the flowers that had begun to collect in my office, some from Daniel, a few from family, friends, and colleagues and lastly one large bouquet of bright orange roses, from Camille. I let my fingers trace them and closed my eyes briefly, each petal felt like her lips – deeply ingrained in my mind. Just as I felt the thought getting deeper into my head, I turned the ring and smashed it into my palm once more. Staring out the window – reality set in.

“Dr. P, your 3:30 has arrived.” Nina’s voice traveled through the speaker.

“Amazing, send them back.” I welcomed the distraction.