~18~

The park was nice on this chilly spring day, but it was gargantuan. As I tried to follow the instructions from her text, I kept track of where I parked my car. At the sound of laughter from a child, I glanced up.

Playground!

Okay. I was there, but where was she? My eyes swung around until they landed on a small blonde figure, waving ardently. Sliding my phone into the pocket of my jacket, I began making my way to her on the other side of the monkey bars.

She stood when I arrived, Laura’s frame seemed smaller than I remembered. When she pulled me into a firm embrace, she damn sure felt tinier than I ever considered of her.

“Gosh, I’m so glad to finally see you, kiddo!” She pushed me back, holding me at the arms. “You look so…glammed. You’ve lost a lot of weight—not that you were overweight, in my opinion!” she motioned for me to sit on the bench. Laura couldn’t kill her beam. “You look amazing, Wynter.”

“Thanks, Laura.” I smiled as my eyes roved all over. “Who would’ve thought of this big ass park?”

Her shoulders lifted as she laughed. “Me!” she waved her hand with her brows elevated, then bit her bottom lip.

“And who in the hell knew you lived in Sparta?” My head bounced back, expressing shock.

When I shot her a text yesterday, telling her today would be a good day to meet, I was blown away when she told me she, too, lived in Sparta.

Unable to stop smiling, she nodded. “My grandfather built our colonial just a few years before my mother was born. It’s been in our family ever since. Small, but paid off.” She nudged me with her arm affectionately. “And thank goodness, considering I’m a public servant.”

I laughed. “Oh, whatever, Laura. You know you make that bank.”

“Blah.” She shrugged. “It’s all a matter of perception.” I offered a dry grin. “Listen, I’ve been trying to reach out to you for months now.”

“Yeah. I know.” I sighed. “I’m sorry about that. It’s been a damn rollercoaster ride since the day I quit. Stuff that’s too vivid for books.”

“Maybe a romance novel.” She smiled brightly and nudged me again.

The more I considered it, I’d never seen my former supervisor so damn giddy. We’d always been cordial. She was pleasant to me, even mentored me greatly. But the nature of our job left no room for pleasantries around the watercooler. So, here was a side to Laura I never knew.

I took a deep breath. “Romance novel,” I exhaled, tossing my eyes at the kid with burnt orange hair swinging from bar to bar.

“Well, that and that manager of your husband’s. I’m sorry for his loss, by the way.”

“You know about that?”

Laura blushed as her head nodded profusely. “Sweetheart, it’s been prime news. Murdered by a West Coast music executive? Please.” She scoffed.

If that’s what they wanted to call True Blue. I thought he was nothing but a gangster in the industry, even more so than Mike Brown. But the detectives finally gathered enough evidence to arrest True two nights ago. Raj had been getting calls left and right and so had his publicist. People wanted his reaction to the news.

I nodded. “That’s been a small part of it, but yeah.”

“I think Ragee’s cute.” That beam broadened again.

I dropped my head to the side. “Laura, you checking for my husband?”

She fell into a laughing fit, her torso flying back. “Oh, my! Could you imagine?”

No, I couldn’t… I shook my head, looking around.  

“Well, anyway. Congratulations. I’m so happy for you. I didn’t know you were dating, much less a celebrity. But I was glad to learn you found happiness outside of work. You were my best counselor, Wynter.”

With a sincere, but crooked smile, I thanked her. “I appreciate that, Laura. The work challenged me. Brought out the good and the bad.”

“Do you miss it?”

I shook my head. “I would say I miss the challenge I was presented with by each client, but to be honest, I think I’m up against the biggest one of my life.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup. And I have a feeling it’s going to keep me busy for a long while.”

“Well, marriage can do that to you.” She sighed. “Heck, it should. It’s that one baby that never ages out. The one you have to protect, love, nurture, have patience with, and fight for until…” I looked at her to complete the thought. Laura’s sapphires were cast into the distance. “Just until.” She shrugged. “You know?” We locked eyes.

“How long have you been married?”

She laughed. “For as long as I can remember.” I found that funny, too. “Twenty-seven years, and it’s been quite a ride.”

“College sweetheart?”

“Nooooooo…” she growled. “Absolutely not. Dan was met on the job.” Her smile turned desolate. “And happiness hasn’t consistently progressed with the years, but our strength together has.”

“That sounds glum.” I chuckled nervously.

Raj and I may have still been fake, but legal man and wife; however, it was clear we’d be together…as lovers and friends, indefinitely. I needed encouragement, not another sad love song.

“You know…” she trilled, “it kind of isn’t. It’s sort of a naked honesty after you’ve shaken off your ideas of marriage. You’re what…twenty-seven?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“Okay. Twenty-nine. What you’ve brought to your marriage are all the perceptions, beliefs, and expectations of marriage you accumulated since you were able to appreciate the tradition of it. I don’t know much about Ragee, but I imagine he’s your age—”

“Older.” My thumb pointed toward the sky as I made a silly expression. “Way older.”

“Okay.” Her head bounced from side to side. “That makes my point even that much more sound. He’s bringing the same thing: All of those ideas and views of marriage. Was he raised by two parents…one? Did he see healthy marriages…was divorce seen in his upbringing? Monogamy? Religion, childhood trauma, family dynamic—the whole gamut. All of those factors plant seeds in our minds, so when we decide to get married, they’ve taken root and come alive in how we conduct ourselves in the marriage.”

I slid my hands in the pockets of my jacket, slightly chilled. But she had my attention now.

“The definition of happiness is skewed at that point. So now your partner is up against all of these false expectations, which are negative forces. It impacts your commitment to your partner and weakens the vows you made to each other.” Laura’s eyes were as clear as the waters I’d just left in the Caribbean, and so was her theory. “It impedes your perception of happiness, but if you stick in there…serve the vows, your bond as man and wife will strengthen. Sometimes strength, not perceived happiness, can get you through a stormy night.”

Silence rested over us for a minute. Her words echoing in my mind.

“What if you go in knowing you have your work cut out for you? What if”—I lowered my voice—“you knew your spouse had demons that couldn’t be slayed overnight, possibly in a lifetime, if he didn’t use the right tool?”

Her eyes swung into the distance at an ice cream cart making its way up the curvy walkway. “Depends. What kind of demons are we talking?”

I wasn’t quick to reply. Raj’s business wasn’t mine to tell. But I also understood a part of Laura’s life experience. We were numb to judgment when it came to Raj’s predicament.

I cleared my throat as my eyes skirted around. “Childhood trauma.”

That could have been a number of things.

“Then I’d be the tool.”

My eyes hit her in enough time to see hers land on me.

I let out a labored breath. “But why? Who would choose that as their forever? You know what those cases can turn into. You know how ugly it can get. How unforgiving it can become if not properly addressed.”

“You know what counseling is?”

I shook my head. “Help?”

“A tool. All counseling is, is a method used to identify a problem or problems, and in many cases, conquer it. You have those skills.” Her head shook softly as she peered at me directly in the eyes. “Be the tool.”

“Easy for you to say after twenty-seven years on the scoreboard.”

“Married to a man with so many demons, most of which were incurred by trauma.” Her eyes shifted over to me again. My face folded. Then Laura sat up, brushed down the front of her thighs, and exhaled. “Dan was falsely accused of rape at twenty-one. His parents had no money, so his public defense did the shittiest job on the case, and it cost him a fifteen-year sentence, three of which he completed. Lucky for the guy, a community-based legal defense team picked up his case, appealed it, and won. His sentence was overturned, and Dan was freed. But not unscathed.”

My jaw fell. I didn’t know what to say.

Laura’s regard traveled into the distance again. “His first eight months in there, he was beaten and sexually assaulted six times. Six times. The last time was so bad, they tossed him in solitary confinement for his protection for nearly a year.” She scoffed bitterly, “Can you imagine what that does to the psyche of a promising college football star? Sheesh,” she spat. “I don’t think Dan had ever been in a fist fight with kids his age before prison, much less with a man doing hard time.”

“But you saw past that.”

With a snort, she shook her head. “Every day, I look past that brokenness in his eyes. We fought for years to have his sex offender status lifted. Rightfully, it should have been when he was released, but you know how the system works: against you, not for you. You know he still wakes up, drenched in sweat, kicking, and swinging? I got deathly afraid at one time, because he’d taken up martial arts, needing to learn how to defend himself, although the trauma period has past.” Laura appeared lost in her thoughts. 

“But you grow stronger each day,” I muttered, accepting it.

Her sapphires were on me again. “Together.” Her smile was dry and face pink. “Anyway,” she exhaled, slapping her thighs as her spine straightened. “I didn’t mean to spill my marital woes onto you. I’ve been wanting to see you to congratulate you.”

“On getting married?”

She shook her head. “On knowing your worth and leaving. I can give you a list of those who get burned out but won’t leave for whatever reason. Then they become useless. Just a drained soul there to collect a check. You beat the odds. You did what was right.” She patted my knee.

“You’ve been calling me all this time to say that?” My tone was wry.

Biting her lip, she nodded. “I did. But I guess… I guess I needed the closure. I really liked you, Wynter. I saw so much of me in you, which is why it killed me to deliver the news of the pay cut. It’s why I encouraged you to stay even after. The program needed strong, unsullied soldiers like you. I wish I had ten of you. My life would be so much easier.”

A bitter laugh shot from my stomach. “I thought you were trying to get me to come back.”

“Oh, sweetheart, no!” Her head swung from left to right. “Well, maybe the first two weeks.” We laughed. “But after that, I just wanted final words with you. You’re so strong, Wynter. Solid, you know? That was your first blow up, and even then, you didn’t cry. You pushed back.”

She stood and reached for my hands. “I’m glad to have met you, sweetheart. And I’m grateful you allowed me this.” Her eyes gazed up to the winded trees. “I got more than I intended.”

My forehead stretched. “Like what?”

“I got confirmation you were my spirit animal. Women who can love broken men, who fight alongside them to make them whole are a dying breed. We’re a unique design. Specialty solider. If we never cross paths again, just know you aren’t alone. Sometimes it makes those stormy nights a tad more bearable.” She patted my hands and smiled. “Be well, Wynter.”

“You, too, Laura.” I gave a neck bow then watched her walk away. “Hey, Laura!” I called behind her. She turned to face me over her shoulder. “I cry…now. He’s brought out a new emotion. He taught me a better way to weather the rhythm of blues.”

With a slow rising smile, Laura tossed me a wink and was on her way. 

I’m about to blow…

I couldn’t hold on any longer. Not with the way her nails dug into the skin on my back. Not with her pussy slipping on and off my dick at this rhythm. Our skin smacking. Her tits bouncing, and her face tight and strained. She usually liked to wear a slick grin when I was inside her, being cheeky.

But tonight, she was different. Wynter had been less vocal, yet more expressive with her body. She kissed me more, clung to me tighter. She watched me more intently. Maybe it was because we were in my bed here in Sparta for the first time in over a month. At first it was scary, but in no time it became about us. Especially when she said she wanted me on top.

And now, she was rolling her hips. Flexing her thighs and arching her back, taking me deep inside. I felt her walls, sensed every clench of her pussy. Tasted every acceptance on her tongue. Licked the chocolate of her areola.

That was it. It was happening. My balls contracted and spine went straight as my seeds shot through me, squirting into her.

“Oh, god, Raj!” she breathed out faster than my clogged ears would allow me to hear.

Her sex began banging onto me, driving me crazy as I piston into her sweetness. I spilled and spilled with her going ape beneath me until my whole body tensed and planked over her. My body reeled, head spun as she pulled it down and kissed me with all tongue and breaths. She wouldn’t stop and her thighs lifted and tightened behind me, pulling me to press my full weight on her.

“Baby, I’mma hurt yo—”

Wynter deepened the kiss, silencing my caution. With that move, she made us one orally. She slowed the pace, but that didn’t lessen the intensity. I could feel myself throbbing inside her, my body confused. Lost between deflation and crescendo.

But I liked it. There was a level of intimacy to it—not her usual style, but I was still getting to know Wynter. She’d been a wonder, changing my views day by day.

A sniffle.

My eyes flew open. It was hard to focus this close to her. But even in the dim room, I could see tear tracks at the sides of her face. 

I pulled my tongue from her, but Wynter wouldn’t let me lift my head so I could see her better. Our lips remained pressed against each other.

“What’s the matter?” my voice cracked from the late hour and rehearsing for the tour for fourteen hours straight.

Wynter didn’t answer at first. Her hands moved, nails pulled out of my skin, causing me to flinch. I was sure I’d need first aid back there. But I wasn’t tripping, especially when those soft, little hands swept down the goosebumps to the bottom of my back. She climbed back up slowly. But when she made it to the tender area, I lifted.

“What’s the deal?”

Wynter licked her lips and rolled her head to the left.

“You haven’t asked about my L.I.T. deal.”

Man…

I’d thought about it over the past few days, but it’d been crazy with preparing for the tour. We cranked up the stage production, selected dancers, and booked musicians. The tour kicked off in two weeks and I’d be gone a whole six weeks. To be real, I’d been struggling with having to be apart from her for that long.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to be…” I didn’t know how to apologize for being insensitive to a woman, but I was sorry.

And that’s when I saw more tears. Wynter covered her face, her torso vibrated.

“Wait…” I tried pulling her hand down, but she wouldn’t let me. “Wait, now…”

When she sniffled and tried to catch her breath, I waited, wedged between her thighs.

“I’m sorry, Wynter.” Panic set in. “Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” Since when have I been capable of doing that?  

“It’s not that!” she groaned, but in a whisper.

Okay. Now we were getting somewhere.

“Then what is it?”

Taking in a deep breath, she wiped her face again. But her eyes went to the nightlight off the balcony, cutting through the curtain.

“I love you.”

My face stretched and chin dipped. I was so confused.

Wynter nodded her head, affirming her words while biting her top lip.

“I don’t get it.”

“I’m in love with you.” She began to cry again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” she shouted, squeezing her thighs then groaned. “Like you said in Minnesota: Just don’t make me regret it!”

She was dead serious, but I couldn’t help my smile. My heart beat a new rhythm. She’d finally caught up. I reached down to kiss her lips.

Pulling back the bottom one where that mole always got to me, I asked, “Then why you start off talking about L.I.T.?”

My mouth went below and nipped her chin.

“Because I’m angry,” she whispered.

I traced my tongue around the area my teeth just clamped then asked, “Why, Blue?”

“Because you were going to let me sign with them.”

My head shot up. “What’s wrong with the deal?”

“It’s exclusive.”

“You’d be busy, though. They’re signing up artists, lotta dope ones, too.”

“But they’re not Ragee.”

My face went tight.

Wynter swallowed. “Why would I sign to a major just to fight with other—more experienced—writers when I can garner all the experience at home? With a master?”

A master…

I breathed out a chuckle. “I ain’t no master, Wynter. I just love music.”

“In more than one aspect. You can write, play, and arrange.”

“And you wanna do that with me?”

Her head nodded hard and fast as she sucked in air.

A chilling breath cleared my lungs, forcing my eyes to close.

His hand was clenched over mine as we rode in the back seat of his SUV. The bumpy streets made us rock, but our regard remained out the window. Mine was blindly. It had been a long day, and for me, one requiring great patience.

Two Sundays after our getaway, Raj invited me to his church, Redeeming Souls for Abundant Living in Christ, in Harlem for their eight a.m. service. That was interesting. It was there that I witnessed the church boy for real. Raj clapped, danced, waved his hand, and even sang. That last one wasn’t a stretch, but to say he was a professional recording artist, singing in the pews amongst laymen was an entirely different experience.

His pastor was a phenomenon like I’d never seen. He was a captivating speaker: voice controlled, context-specific, well-articulated, and eye-candy. It didn’t take long to figure out the draw. Then, at the end of service, when he called for prayer, there were men and women alike sprawled out at the altar. Grown folks crying, shaking, and…praising God. I had little experience with church, so I didn’t know how to frame the experience. But it was damn good seeing another side—an intimate and spiritual side—of Raj.

Right after service, we left the City to head back to Jersey. Our destination was his grandmother’s church. He’d invited me last week to attend. It took a week of mental no’s to finally consent to it. I didn’t mind seeing Pastor McKinnon again. It was Heather that caused my apprehension. She remained an unsettled issue for Raj and me. The only reason I hadn’t addressed seeing her the morning I left for Arizona was because she honestly hadn’t been much of a factor in the droves of shit Raj and I had to clear to figure us out.

So, I agreed and felt adult about my decision until I lay eyes on her in their storefront church. Forget about the size disparity, the cultures and ambiance of the two churches couldn’t be more dissimilar. Redeeming Souls ran more like a production: stellar music, beautiful aesthetics, and a message from the pastor that evoked internal examination. Bibleway Ministries had meager ambiance, a horrible sound system, way too much running and jumping, and they collected an offering three times. Ragee’s grandmother was a yeller on the microphone, mostly quoting scriptures I had no reference to.

But I bore through all of those factors. Heather was one I couldn’t ignore. She was up and down the sanctuary aisles, doing the most. It was clear she was high-ranking in the infrastructure, but the sight of her irked me to the highest degree. I was also met with a more familiar foe. Myisha. She attended her grandmother’s celebration, too. She was with two women I didn’t know, and she didn’t speak to her cousin.

She didn’t speak afterward at the repass either. Raj had been busy anyway, catching up with family friends he apparently hadn’t seen since he visited years ago. Heather interacted with him lots, though. She’d whisper to him, but not in his ear. A few times, her hand brushed his arm and once his chest. I seethed in silence, refusing to upset Ragee while he was with his family. He’d been completely supportive of mine, championed it even. So I sat, smiled, nodded, and ate very little. I even took pictures with those requesting one of the both of us. I didn’t like it and wondered where they’d land.

But I did it…

And I ultimately made it through the basement banquet until Pastor McKinnon announced she was tired and needed to go. However, she wanted a word with Raj and Myisha at her place. So, here we were, tired and hungry, on our way to Grandmother McKinnon’s. I’d already told myself I’d take a back seat to whatever was discussed, even if it involved me.

Danny G pulled the truck into the driveway of a one family house, nestled on a block of two and even three family homes. We followed Pastor McKinnon and her assistant, Evangelist Mary, who drove her. The space was narrow, but Raj helped me out, and we trailed behind them to the back of the house for the door. Just as we’d made it, I heard clacking behind us and swung my head over my shoulder. Myisha strutted in her heels up the sloped driveway. Raj held the door open for me to come through and waited for Myisha to catch up.

When I stepped into the small entryway and noticed an old wooden door straight ahead, I froze. Its planks were shrunken with half inch spaces between some and was closed by a padlock. This was it. This was the basement where Ragee was victimized…for years.

I turned to peer over my shoulder and found Myisha waiting on me to move, wearing a flummoxed expression. But when my regard went beyond her to my fake, legal husband, his eyes fell, telling me he knew my discovery.

“Excuse me,” Myisha murmured behind me, prompting me to move.

I made it up the stairs and followed Mary inside. In the kitchen, I stepped out of the walkway to wait for him. My eyes brushed curiously right to left. I wanted to examine this place. My stomach already twisting and pulse beating at the scent. This was it. This was a breeding ground for victimization. He told me while in the Caribbean even Arnie was exposed to a sexual predator, but just like with Myisha, Ragee found a way to deter it. He threatened to tell and magically it worked for his impaired brother and younger cousin. Unfortunately, no one spared him.

I jolted in place when Raj took me at the hand to lead me into the living room. There was an aged floral scent in the atmosphere, layered with years of cooking, I guessed. Pastor McKinnon excused herself to go into her room and change then slowly ascended the stairs. Myisha plopped herself on the couch and Evangelist Mary went to put Pastor’s cloak and purse into another room, leaving us alone.

“How you been, My?” Raj croaked, his voice so deep, masculine.

She shrugged. “Been getting by. Building my client list.”

“That’s what’s up.” He nodded. “Young call you about that new artist they pushing?”

Unable to look him in the face, her regard continued to sway from his chest to the staircase ahead of her. “Yeah. We conferenced last week. Think he’s got good potential.” She cleared her throat. “Thanks for that.”

Sounded to me like Raj had thrown business her way.

“Welcome,” he uttered in a manner I knew meant he was uncomfortable.

The moment Mary trudged back into the living room, appearing aged and lifeless, the doorbell rang. Raj’s regard moved toward it. I understood why. He was spent, had no more energy to smile and be “on” anymore today. The guy really wasn’t very social, preferring solitude to company. Evangelist Mary made her way to answer it, and we all waited in the quiet house.

Seconds later, Heather came bustling through, arms filled with gift bags and small boxes. Right away I recognized them.

“Whew!” she breathed, breezing through. “It’s getting chilly out there now that the sun’s going down.” She headed toward the kitchen.

The man I recognized as her husband from observation today was behind her, carrying even more things. He didn’t speak, just followed behind his wife.

Really? I have to see this bitch again?

My eyes settled on my lap as I told myself to hang on just a little while longer. I tried to envision myself in the bathtub back in Sparta. I would light candles and add extra bubbles as I reflected on Ezra’s sermon that was filled with a lot of those tools Laura awakened me to last week.

“Praise God,” I heard being whispered as the stairs creaked.

I recognized that utterance, which wasn’t meant for human ears. Pastor McKinnon was coming down the stairs on a wobble as she held on to the railing tightly. She didn’t look as well as the last time I’d seen her. When she preached, her appearance was lively, but when she came off the pulpit, she seemed tired.

Raj held out his hand for her as she descended the last step. She smiled with her eyes half-mast as they typically were.

“Thank you, son,” she murmured. The room was quiet. Mary had found a seat in the corner, crossing her thin legs and rocking back and forth with her eyes closed. “Well, let’s take care of this so I can get my due rest,” her petite tone informed. Then she leaned forward at the noise from the kitchen. “Oh, Heather here already? Praise God. I thought we was gonna have to start without her.” She giggled.

Without her?

“I’m here, Pastor. Antwan’s here. He’s dropping off the rest of your gifts and’ll wait in the car for me.”

My eyes swept over to Raj, whose were in the area of the kitchen as his brows were knitted with confusion.

“Here I am.” Heather gaited back into the living room with her hands in her jacket pockets. “Antwan’s laying everything out for you.”

Pastor McKinnon nodded. “Now, I would open in prayer, but I did that already, upstairs when I got out of my clothes. I am confident God will be faithful to allow His spirit of peace to reign over our family tonight,” her voice was so tiny and breathy as she spoke with her eyes closed. “Come here, baby,” she ordered Myisha, who obeyed right away. Then Pastor McKinnon took Myisha and Ragee by the hands and pulled them close to her.

“It’s come to my attention there’s been some discord between you two. And that don’t sit right with my spirit. MyMy, when you first told me about the fight, I told you to pray on it, but it wasn’t that bad. Gee-Gee needs to leave and cleave. You two been close—too close for too long. He’s taken on a wife, and it’s God’s natural course that they move on alone.”

So that’s what this is about…

“Then it’s come to my attention,” her chin flicked over to that fucking Heather. “that Myisha was moved out of the house and the apartment. Now, I can understand the house because that’s where Wynter is. But leaving her homeless ain’t of God. So, I wanted to get you all here to see what we can work out as a godly family.”

“If I may, Grandmother?” Raj’s deep vocals trickled firm, but respectfully.

“Yes, son.”

“Myisha and I had a beef and I decided it was best for her to move out, but she wasn’t left homeless. I got her an apartment.” He leaned over his grandmother to peer at Myisha. “You ain’t tell her that?”

“I didn’t tell her I was homeless,” Myisha defended herself, eyes bouncing between her grandmother and Raj then over to Heather.

Heather’s face opened, mouth moved wordlessly. It was the mark of guilt.

“I didn’t know you had a place. When you called me, you were so upset and could hardly speak clearly. Maybe I missed that part.”

“But she always had a place to stay. That was worked out from the gate,” Raj finally appeared angry.

Heather’s arms lifted in the air and her palms slammed onto her thighs on the way down in a manner of shrugging. “Lines got crossed. I’m sorry.”

“You couldn’t come to me?” Raj asked Heather. “And ask me what the deal was?”

“I knew you had your hands full.” Heather’s arms swung my way, that sneaky ass smile at play.

With me?

“With what?” Raj demanded.

“With your…wife!” she spat. “All of that talk of her being with that B City guy. Her spending your money.”

Raj’s face fell. “Social media blog talk?” His brows then met. “You give weight to what you hear about my life in the media now instead of picking up the phone and calling me?”

“Let’s be fair, son,” Pastor McKinnon chimed in. “Nobody can get you on the phone, and now with MyMy gone, I’m sure it’s impossible.”

“It ain’t never been impossible for her,” Raj charged back. “When she needed a house, I answered. When her babies were born, she called. When the water heater bust, she called. When the car broke down, she called.”

“Raj!” Heather tried quieting him.

“Nah,” he spoke over her. “But when it comes to an issue with my wife, you call Pastor McKinnon?”

The room got quiet.

But that was when Antwan decided to finally come from the kitchen and make his exit. As he passed his wife in the doorway, her face fell into her palms.

Antwan mumbled something angrily as he passed the center of the living room, heading toward the door.

“Antwan!” Heather called after him.

“No!” He did a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn in the air, causing me to leap back in my chair. “He ain’t lying. You do that, Heather! You always throw up in my face, it’ll get done whether I can do it or not. I ain’t never been a man in this. You ain’t never let me—if we ain’t making babies.”

“Brother Antwan!” Pastor McKinnon tried.

Antwan’s hands shot into the air defenselessly. “I’m done with this. I know my role. I’ll wait out in the car I ain’t buy.” He stormed his way out of the living room.

Seconds later, the sound of the door slamming reverberated around the room. My heart split at the cry in that stance. What the fuck was going on with these people?

Myisha’s head fell and she shook it. She, too, was moved by that man’s defeated resolve.

“I’m sorry about all of this, Pastor,” Heather murmured, her eyes squeezed closed. “It’s clear Gee-Gee and I have some unresolved issues we need cleared out.”

“But that’s no reason for him to go off like that,” Pastor asserted. “He knew you and Gee-Gee were friends long before you married. It was just a kiddie crush. That ain’t no reason to be up in arms.”

Heather chuckled too confidently. “It was more than that, but I agree. That wasn’t necessary.”

“What do you mean more than that?” Pastor McKinnon asked. “You guys were barely in high school.”

And she fucked him, Grandmother McKinnon. Your heavily depended upon parishioner was fucking well before high school!

My fists clenched at my sides on the sofa, but I kept my mouth closed.

Heather’s eyes brushed nervously against me. “We knew back then we wanted to marry each other. As silly as it sounds, we were pretty clear even that young. We bonded irrevocably.”

I let go of a trying breath, shifting in my seat.

“I didn’t know any of this.” There was an earnest expression in Grandmother McKinnon’s words and reaction to that.

“That’s because Gee-Gee started acting weird,” Heather explained.

“He wasn’t weird, Heather,” Myisha warned. “Don’t go there.”

At the same time, Raj snorted, shaking his head. “Weird,” he whispered.

“Well, Gee-Gee, you did go through that moody, hormonal phase back then. I didn’t know how to handle you.”

“That’s because you didn’t try,” spilled harshly from Myisha’s lips in a mutter.

“Excuse me, young lady?” Pastor demanded.

And I wanted to disappear. I wanted to take Raj and leave this SNAFU of an intervention.

“A lot of stuff happened back then that you didn’t know,” Myisha explained with a stronger tone, but little confidence.

“We ain’t going there, My,” Raj made clear. “The bottom line is, this ain’t necessary. Me and My had a major disagreement, and I thought it was best that we go our separate ways. That don’t mean I don’t love her. I’m still taking care of her until she get on her feet. That ain’t change,” his tone was firm. “Now as far as involving Grandmother like I ain’t a grown man, taking care of my business; I can’t front, Heather, it stings a little to know you went behind my back like this. I thought we were better than that.”

“We are, Gee-Gee!” Heather declared. “It’s just… Like I told you: Something in my spirit is off about this thing with you two.”

“Who?” Raj’s brows lifted with impatience.

“Her!” She pointed at me.

“My wife?”

“No!” she shouted, suddenly enraged. “Wynter Blue!”

“What?” Raj shrieked.

My eyes closed, and I prayed—to myself—for patience. I respected Pastor McKinnon and could tell all around her did, too. I didn’t want to cross any lines with her. She’d been nice to me. More than that, I wanted to take Raj’s lead on dealing with his grandmother. If he exercised patience, so would I.

“Look…” Raj paused, looking to me, reining in his anger. “You know what I shared with you in confidence. You know where I stand when it comes to my marriage. Maybe if you wasn’t so busy acting weird about your own and throwing little hints at what we once was, you’d see I have something real with her.”

“Well, I would if you would stop being so weird! So standoffish, Gee-Gee! One month, you’re hiding away from the world. The next you’re getting married to a complete stranger! Yeah, maybe we were kids when we had a thing, but so help me God, it was real! Yes, I married. I had to move on. After your angry period, when I asked for us to try again in high school, you said no!”

Raj’s head swung back in surprise, I guessed. “You said no. You laughed in my face and said, ‘too late.’ Remember that?”

“Now, wait a minute. We got Wynter here,” Pastor McKinnon tried. “We don’t need to be talking about this right now.”

Though grateful, I was intrigued about these two. It was clear Raj didn’t want his trauma to be shared in front of his grandmother, but in between their flashbacks were pieces of their story.

“Could we just forget about this whole thing?” Myisha bit out on an exhale.

“Nah. Heather wanna go over my head and pull Grandmother in this,” Raj argued. “Let’s do it. Yeah. I went to you in high school…broken and lost. I spilled my guts to you, telling you about my issues. I was open with you and you know what you did, Heather. Don’t front.”

And I caught it.

I caught that sliver of emotion when Raj was tapping into something real. I saw how the cords in his thick neck protruded and the arteries in his forehead swelled. How the deep timbre of his natural speaking voice transformed into a high pitch. She’d hurt him. I wasn’t clear on the details, but reading between the lines, Raj told Heather about his abuse and she turned him away.

“Because I didn’t get it back then!” Tears charted down Heather’s face. Evangelist Mary was at her side, trying to calm her. “I didn’t get it. I was a child, Ragee! An eleven-year-old girl. You stopped talking to me…stopped calling. Even in church, you didn’t want to sit by me or talk in the fellowship hall during service like you used to. You changed!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “You were angry all the time. You only cared about instruments, boxing, and Myisha! But you come back to me in high school with this strange story of abuse, and I was supposed to know how to respond at seventeen?” She laughed bitterly, painfully.

“Abuse?” Pastor McKinnon’s flappy neck swung left to right. Myisha began to cry. “Now, what’s going on here?”

“Nah. You was supposed to care. Have some compassion when you said no. But you laughed—”

“I’m sorry!” Heather shouted at the top of her lungs, prompting Myisha to begin to wail like a child.

Raj went to her, bent down to cover his cousin, who now resembled a baby.

“Just stop this!” Myisha screamed, kicking her heels in the air, her hands covering her ears. “Just go, Heather! Nobody wants to go back there!”

I sat up to go for Myisha but froze when I heard Raj whispering something to her soothingly.

“Jesus!” Pastor McKinnon called out, arms in a warrior’s stance. “The blood of Jesus!”

“See!” Heather pointed toward the cousins, huddled in a ball. “This the only person he lets in. It’s like they have a sick partnership that keeps them needy for each other. She called me upset that he put her out for his new wife. I called you, Pastor, and looks what’s happening!”

Pastor McKinnon looked confused…and pained. “Abuse,” she uttered, dazed. “What type of abuse?”

“They both said they were!” Heather continued. “It’s been a mess. I don’t know why I try.”

“Fuck you!” Myisha leaped from Raj’s hold.

“Hold up!” the preacher’s growl jumped from Pastor McKinnon’s belly.

“Heeeey!” Mary yelped.

“Me?” Heather’s hand was on her chest. “Try that the next time you call me to trick his wife!”

What?

Raj stood to his feet. “Trick who?”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch!” Myisha yelled, stepping toward Heather.

“Fine, but you’re the brat! You’re jealous of his wife!”

“And you are, too, Heather!”

“But he’s not my cousin. He’s my ex-boyfriend!”

A childhood fuck…

“You know what?” Heather clapped her hands. “Since everybody wants to make Heather out to be the bad guy, why don’t y’all tell Pastor about your bond. Tell her why you two cling on to each other like no one else matters. Tell her how you say you were molested here!”

Evangelist Mary’s head jerked back so hard, her wig shifted, dangling off her head. Pastor McKinnon backed up into a seat and held her chest.

“Stupid bitch!” Myisha pounced for Heather, but Raj caught her mid-air. “I’m gonna slap the dog shit outta you, you miserable bitch!”

“Yeah, but I don’t break into his wife’s social media account and post gold-digger messages to ruin her reputation. And I’m the miserable one?”

“Yeah, but when I called at night telling you to come over in the morning to fuck with her, you left your husband and kids to do it and didn’t even know why!” Myisha shouted right back. “But you ain’t obsessed with him? Get the fuck outta here, bitch!”

I was on my feet in less than a second. My hand stretched in the direction outside where the shell of a husband named Antwan sat. “Go!” My voice wasn’t raised to the max, but clearly with that of authority.

I’d had enough.

“You can’t tell me to leave,” Heather informed with wide eyes. “This is a family matter.”

“Which you are not a member of. You’re a member of the church family. This is a McKinnon matter, Heather. Go!” my tone sharper.

“Baby, I’ll have her call you in the morning,” Evangelist Mary offered gently, taking her at the waist to guide her steps. “Antwan waiting out there in the dark for you, sweetie. They gone be okay here.”

Heather’s aghast regard went to Pastor McKinnon, who was busy praying in a whisper, tossed back in a recliner chair.

“Go ‘head, Heather,” Raj gave the final order for her to leave.

Without a word, Heather sauntered to the door with Evangelist Mary assisting her the way the women in all white did those shouting earlier at Bibleway Ministries.