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“You’re not interrupting,” I say, taking my time stepping away from Josiah, making sure it doesn’t look like we got caught doing something wrong. “We were just loading up the champagne.”
Vashti is nobody's fool. Only fools are ya'll trying to play pretend.
What’s stopping him from going back to her? Are they sleeping together again?
Omg going to strangle them both
Do you want him back?
DUH
But he was maybe jealous of Mark tonight. He called me baby. He looked at me with desire and affection. I can work with that. I can build on that. I have to try. Before I let go of the past and grab hold of a future without him, I have to be sure. I don’t know when or if I’ll get a second chance, but as long as it’s possible, I’ll hold on to hope.
There was no maybe about his jealousy and you know it
I don’t deserve a second chance, but is it worth fighting for?
You absolutely do
“Oh, that.” Her lips curve into an indulgent smile. “Based on a few of our conversations, I suspected as much, but you needed to come to it for yourself.”
Mhmmm
“I’ve ruined everything.” I shake my head, tears slipping from the corners of my eyes. “My daughter hates me. My husband…ex-husband is done with me. What was I thinking? How could I
Yasmen, no. You stop that right now.
“This happens, Yasmen. Depression is an altered state of mind. Not just feeling sad, but the chemistry of your brain, your hormones. Your body is a participant, held hostage to depression just as much as your mind.”
Thank you!
“Depression,” she goes on, “is a liar.
A big mfin' lying asshole
I know depression deceives, but how this illness warped truth, how it manipulated my emotions and turned my fears on me, takes my breath for a moment. The magnitude of what I’ve lost, what I surrendered, lands on me with the weight and heat of a meteor.
All the hugs cause the way I've been there
“Oh, divorce isn’t irreversible. It’s not the worst regret you could have as a result of decisions you made when depressed or grieving,” Dr. Abrams says. “There’s a documentary about the Golden Gate Bridge. A documentarian left a camera on the bridge around the clock for a year. Filmed twenty-four jumps.”
Exactly. There are much worse decisions.
“That,” she says, “is an irreversible outcome. Divorce may or may not be. Broken relationships may or may not be. You may never repair those completely, but you’re still here to try. Do you recognize what an amazing gift that is? To still be here to try?”
<3
“You have to make peace with that woman, Yasmen, because she is you. She’s not someone you banished with therapy and meds. She is you. You cannot dissociate from her. Until you reconcile that, you won’t find true peace. Until you have compassion for her instead of judgment, you cannot fully heal.”
Can't move forward otherwise
There is a corner of my heart, a room in my soul, where I must choose joy just for me and just because I want to be free of this. I want to heal, to be the best, most complete version of myself for my children, for my mother, for my friends. Most of all, for me
“Even if it tastes like crap, you mean? Just fake it?” “You remember that ashtray you made when you were in second grade?” “Yeah.” She grins up at me. “It’s on your desk at work.” “It’s hideous.”
Brutal lol
“Not about Grits. About Vashti leaving.” “It’s what she wants to do,” I say, shrugging, but not quite meeting her eyes. “But she loves it here. She’s always said she wants to be here.” “Not anymore.”
Who could've seen this coming? *taps chin*
I’m a glutton for punishment and a fool for lust because despite going weeks convincing myself one night would have to be enough, I cup her jaw and lay my hand at her waist, drawing her into me. “I’m touching you now.”
Do not do this now on your daughter's bday with her just upstairs. . .
What was the use of retrieving that necklace from the fountain, of not letting go of hope, if I don’t seize the chance to fulfill it?
Choose a different time and place
I brace one palm against the leather seat and stretch to cup his head with the other, spreading my thighs wider, offering him everything. Not just my body. My pain, my sorrow, my contrition, my past and all that lies ahead. Whether he knows it or not, I’m giving it all to him.
Look I've been waiting for this moment but he needs to know this isn't just about sex for you
He eases in, feeding himself into me by inches, and it’s excruciating and perfect, giving my body time to know him again.
And hoping he used protection cause I saw no mention and ya'll be playing with fire
“I’m on birth control,” I whisper. “Don’t pull out.”
Good, good
“Crap,” I groan. “If Deja sees us…” “Or her friends.” He zips up and belts his pants hastily. “She’ll kill us.”
Uh huh. . . But also it won't help whatever she's going through right now either
I can’t bring myself to say those out loud, not even to Dr. Musa, but by the way he watches me, he probably already knows.
Absolutely
How it felt like coming home and running wild at the same damn time.
<3
“Are you sure it shouldn’t have happened?” Dr. Musa asks softly. “Or are you just afraid of what it means if it happens again? If it keeps happening?” “Yeah, that,” I mumble. “That might be it.”
That's exactly it
“A lot of men experience grief-induced impotence,” Dr. Musa says after a few moments of awkward silence.
The MH rep is so good
“Josiah,” he says softly, waiting until I meet his steady gaze. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of here, ever. Least of all over your body expressing grief in the only way it could.”
“Then do what you should have been doing all along,” he says. “What you should have done the first time around.” “And what’s that, Doc?” He smiles, not unkindly. “Talk to her.”
For real!
My only term is that I’ll take him however I can get him. I said if I ever got a second chance, I would take it. I’m grabbing it by the horns.
Argh, this is not a second chance. He's being very clear about that. . .
“So you set ground rules?”
No, HE set ground rules and she's deluding herself. . .
“I want this.” I swing a sober look from one friend to the other. “For as long as I can have it. I want him. Do I secretly hope he falls in love with me again? Yes.”
Worried about possibly falling apart again and making this irresponsible decision instead of being honest with him. . . and yourself.
“Of course not when you were married,” Hendrix says. “But ain’t no ring on your finger or his. What’s stopping him from smashing somebody else? And is that a deal-breaker for you?”
I’m enamored with the passion that burns even brighter between us than it did before. When we make love, the past and present collide in a scorching intimacy that consumes us.
Beautiful <3
“I think Edward’s having an affair,” Soledad blurts.
Called it
“Amber.” Soledad blinks at tears. “I told him he said her name in his sleep, and he said Amber’s his new assistant, and that things are so stressful at work, he’s probably just taking it into his subconscious.”
Okay in this case probably lying scum BUT stuff like this is totally possible
“Remember Mama’s famous German chocolate cake we had on New Year’s Eve?” she asks. “I made it. Mama tried, but the eggs were still kind of raw and there were clumps of flour in it. She just…she can’t remember her recipes. She’s forgetting more and more, and now seems to be having delusions about someone breaking into the house. She’s called the cops several times. They…”
Oh, poor Hen =\
“I think it’s just starting to sink in that there’s no going back, ya know?” Hendrix offers a watery smile, and it’s the closest I’ve seen her to tears. “It’s a debilitating disease, and things will only get worse. I’m not sure which part is harder. Losing her or watching her lose me.”
Oof. . . wasn't prepared for that emotional gut punch.
Little by little I’m learning to do the best I can and live with the consequences. To love fiercely and to forgive myself when that’s not enough.
I force myself to look at him, jaw tensed, teeth clenched. It’s a risk, confessing even this secret of my heart when I’m holding so much else in reserve, but if this is my second chance, if it can become our second chance, then I’ll take a chance.
Need to be honest already...
“This body gave me my children,” I tell her, sliding down to lift her knees over my shoulders. “And it will always be beautiful to me.”
<3
We both know this has gone way beyond the casual thing I thought we could reduce it to.
Yuuuuup
We were here alone and didn’t even bother closing the bedroom door. My daughter stands there, rooted to the spot, eyes like saucers, darting between me—shirtless, in jeans that are zipped, not buttoned, belt hanging loosely around my waist—and Yasmen, draped toga-style in love-mussed sheets with actual hickeys visible at the top curve of her breast and scattered along her neck and shoulders.
Oh, look... consequences
“Your mother and I don’t owe you explanations, but I’ll answer some of your questions because I love you and want to be as open with you as possible.”
Um, strongly disagree with this thinking. It impacts the lives of your children too.
“She doesn’t deserve you! It’s all her fault! Everything is her fault.”
Shut that shit down now. That marriage was done long before she asked for that divorce.
“I didn’t want them to blame you,” Josiah agrees. “But at the time, I blamed you too. Dr. Musa’s helped me see that what I did was really no different. You couldn’t move and I couldn’t stop moving, but neither of us was handling our grief in a healthy way. What went wrong, it was my fault too.”
Good, tell her
I release a huff of humorless air masquerading as a laugh. “Or didn’t cope. We were fighting all the time, your dad and me. I could barely get out of bed most days. Everything hurt so much, and I couldn’t make it stop. You and your brother kept me going, but it was hard.”
“People don’t become perfect when they become parents,” I tell her. “If anything, parenthood gives us more chances to screw things up, just with higher stakes. We all mess up. Sometimes we have to live with that for the rest of our lives. I can’t promise I won’t mess up, but I promise I will love you even when you do. Unconditionally. That means even if you can’t find it in your heart to forgive me, even if you hate me—” “I don’t hate you,” she cuts in softly, eyes on the floor. “It means I’ll always love you no matter what. And we can go on like this, not getting along, you resenting me and
...more
Like a cracked dam, the emotion, the tears crash through. I cry, too, but it’s as much relief as anything else. That after so much time of cutting remarks and frozen silences, I have something real with my daughter, even if it is her tears.
This ia good but get that girl some therapy cause solely blaming her mother is not it...
“It’s the Twiwhite Zone. I want to be around more people who look like me.” She gestures to the flat screen mounted on my wall. “Isn’t that one of the things you loved about attending an HBCU?”
Valid point
Her cousin is in town. When was my period? Shouldn’t it be…last week? I calculate in my head, shocked that my cycle is more than a week late and I hadn’t even noticed.
*facepalm*
