Chapter Eight

 

Lenny

 

 

The lights were off as I sat in the dark corner of the living room. The high back chair, stiff beneath me. With my laptop perched on my knees, I found myself staring off, unfocused. The weight of the previous week resting heavily on my shoulders.

Avery was already in bed, sound asleep. We had spent the afternoon at the park. The thrill of the playground had quickly worn her out.

The tiny three year old laughed and played until her eyelids drooped, too exhausted to hold them open.

After a short nap in the car, I let her help me cook dinner. An easy meal of boxed Mac and Cheese filled her tiny stomach before her bath.

I tucked her into bed. Her bright pink princess pajamas wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

I didn't miss the way she fought to stay awake, her dark blue eyes begging for just one last peak. I fought the tears that stung behind my eyes when she asked if I would be there when she woke.

I didn’t think my heart had the ability to shatter any further.

I was wrong.

A child should never have to worry about their parent going away.

My child should never have to worry.

With a promise I swore to keep, I reassured her I would be there, always. 

I had taken advantage of the silent reprieve to work. I needed something to take my mind off my heavy heart, from the pain that radiated through me.

I knew I had said I was finished with LA but that didn’t mean I was finished with music completely. It was in my bones. Something I couldn’t walk away from. It also offered a pardon. A distraction from the reality crashing around me.

I had failed my daughter.

I failed Makayla.

They didn’t deserve the worry I ingrained in their hearts. Though Avery was more vocal about her fear, I didn’t miss the looks Makayla shot in my direction when she thought I wasn’t looking. It was as if she couldn’t believe I was actually here. The fear that shadowed her eyes. The fear I would disappear.

It was part of the reason I had failed to respond to her advances. Night after night it killed me to ignore the way her petite frame looked wrapped in thin scraps of lace.

My dick stayed hard.  I walked around in a constant state of arousal in her presence.

I bit my knuckles, catching a glimpse of her in the shower. The door left open. The room filled with steam.

I watched rivulets of water drizzle down her skin. My eyes followed the droplets across her curves. I fought against the urge to run to her, take her in my arms and lay claim to her body.

It broke my heart to watch her face fall when I denied her. I stayed rooted, ignoring my body's desire to slay her. To lay into her and make her remember who she belonged to.

I wanted her.

I wanted her more than anything in this world.

But I couldn’t bring myself to push things that far. I couldn't yet take our relationship to that level. It killed me to not be buried deep within her, owning every inch of her body. But more than the silent death I was suffering, I wanted her to believe I was here to stay.

I wanted more than her body.

I wanted her forever.

For a man that performed in front of millions, spitting out rhymes with ease, forming the words I needed to say to Makayla felt thick on my tongue, choking me.

How could I make her believe? How do I convince her I wasn’t going anywhere? They say actions speak louder than words. I was stumbling, struggling to find my way, faltering around like a blind man.

The only thing I could do was be here, be present, and hold her. I hoped that she could feel it in my touch, in the way my heart beat rapidly against the smooth expanse of her back as I held her through the night.

Inside I was trembling with fear. Unease crowded me, making me second guess every word that spilled from my lips, every caress and touch of her skin.

I was terrified I wouldn’t be enough. That the past four years had been too much.

So I sat her in the dark, attempting to bury myself in work. I didn’t need LA or Ron Howard to keep my career on track. I let my talent speak for itself.

Using my connections I sent out some feelers. I knew the rumors started by Angela would hurt me, coupled with the fact my label dropped me. I didn’t let that stop me.

I knew people were going to believe whatever they wanted. I also knew that those weren’t the kind of people I wanted to associate myself with.

Never again would I sacrifice myself or my family for my career. Once was enough. It almost killed me. It almost broke me. My family.

If I did get picked up by a label again, it would be on my terms.  I refused to hide my family away or commit myself to anyone unwilling to accept me as I was the complete package, family and all.

The sound of the front door opening pulled my attention. I turned from my seat, closing the lid of the computer, and watched as Makayla walked in. The darkness shrouded me from her.

Something was eating at her. I noticed it the moment she walked in the door. I had expected her to be out late into the evening. Typically, when Lisa and Makayla went out for girl’s night it ended up being an all-night affair.

Makayla walking in the door just over an hour after she left was almost unheard of. I watched, studying her, as she stopped in the entryway.

The dim light from the lamp on the entry table cast an angelic glow around her. Her long blond hair hung in loose curls down her back, catching the light. I watched as she gingerly kicked off her black pumps, leaving them by the door.

Her shoulders dropped. The thin strap of her flirty aqua summer dress slid down her shoulder, teasingly. Unaware of my presence, I watched as the mask she wore slipped. Her emotions unsheathed, on display. Defeat permeated the air around her.

My heart lurched.

Staggering to my feet, I set the computer on my abandoned chair. With careless abandon, I walked across the room.

A light sob halted me in my steps. Freezing my heart. Makayla’s shoulders shook.

Without a thought I rushed to her, wrapping my arms around her thin waist. Her body went rigid. Ignoring her stiff posture, I tucked her against me, holding her tightly. Her small frame fit against me perfectly, as though her body were carved to fit mine.

Slowly she began to thaw. Her body becoming languid in my arms. Hunching over her, I tucked my face into her neck, inhaling her sweet floral scent. Magnolia and sandalwood, filtered through my nostrils, mingling with a fragrance that was all her. I cling to her like she was my lifeline. In truth- she was.

Our bodies pressed flush together- molded to one. Makayla’s forehead rested against my shoulder. Her small hands wrapped around me, fisting the material of my shirt. She clung to me as she cried. The sound was gut-wrenching. I had no doubt it was because of me. I did this. I broke her.

Makayla was the strongest woman I had ever known. To see her break down was like a shot in the heart. With the exception of the birth of our daughter, I couldn’t remember ever seeing her cry. Even then, the tears she had shed were happy tears. Nothing like the painful rivulets that poured down her face in the dead of the night.

I didn’t know the exact reason for her break down. My head swam with a million possible scenarios. None of which I knew to be the exact cause. I only knew it was me- my fault.

I felt helpless.

Scooping down I lifted her in my arms. I held her bridal style, her thin frail body tucked against me, as I carried her up the stairs, to our room.

We didn't speak. I knew when she was ready she would tell me. Instead, I offered her my support. Holding her, giving her the only comfort I could provide.