Bookmarked

by Bella Jay

We were being watched. Juice placed a soft kiss on my neck before he whispered in my ear, “Don’t let the muggles get you down.” I couldn’t help but smile at my favorite phrase from Harry Potter. We used it whenever our lack of privacy aggravated one of us.

“I’m going to miss moments like this with you,” I said in a low tone, almost wishing I could take it back immediately. It felt wrong to say— at least from me. Especially after our date night blow up. But it was my truth, and I was doing what he asked of me by not censoring myself. A solid five seconds passed by before he said, “Me too.” His tone was indifferent. I didn’t like it. I turned my head so we could be face-to-face, but he continued looking out at the water. There was a shift in his demeanor from being playful to hiding his feelings. The energy was similar to last night, outside of the pottery studio. I didn’t like that either. Gingerly placing my hand on the side of his face, I turned it to me. My thumb caressed his cheek in an effort to keep the peace. “You’re shutting down.” “I’m not.” “You are,” I challenged. “How you gonna tell me what I’m doing?” “Because of the way you’re looking at me.” He sucked his teeth. “Well, I can’t see my face.” “Well, I’m sure you can hear your tone.” Now I was getting aggravated. Fuck the peace. This is why I should have never said it, but the words had spilled out on their own volition. “This is like last night all over again,” I spat. “Then drop it.” “You can’t keep saying things and then expecting me to let it go!” “All I did was respond, Books. Damn. How would you like me to respond when you say shit like that, just so I know?”

I had taken four forkfuls of food before he said anything. “I don’t, babe, but you already told me that this isn’t easy for you. So, if you’re being vulnerable with me, the last thing I want to do is make you feel worse about your decision. That’s not what this trip is about. And you know I’m always going to try to protect you anyway I can — whether that’s physically, mentally, or emotionally.”

“I’d be selfish to believe that this doesn’t affect us both. It’s not easy for either one of us, but your role in this has been so selfless and for that alone, I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide your feelings or emotions from me, Juice.”

I didn’t want to push him to speak what he was feeling, but I wanted him to know that this was a safe space for him, too. Even if his truth made it difficult for me to accept my own. I was well aware that me needing this divorce was breaking both of our hearts.

But it was what I felt I needed to do for me, and I didn’t expect anyone to understand my decision. Everyone who had told me they did, more than likely only said that to support me. Not many people would divorce someone they still loved deeply, and the feelings were mutual.

Most days, I couldn’t believe that was the decision I had made, but I stood by it being the best decision for me. This was my life, my heart I was breaking, and the love of my life I was potentially losing forever. My mother told me straight up that it didn’t make any sense and that I was going to regret this. But listening to Vivian never got me far anyway. I loved her to death, but we were never on the same page. And I had finally accepted my truth. No matter how much someone loved me or how happy someone loving me made me, if I didn’t know how to make myself happy, I wasn’t being my best...

“I don’t know how to explain the shit,” he started. “Being here with you, it’s like I’m happy that we get to do this trip and that I get to spend this time with you before the divorce is final. But there are times, like you saying you’re going to miss moments like this with me, when it’s a harsh reminder of the reality of what’s to come. And that sucks. When I planned this, I was just thinking about us having fun together, being in our element and enjoying each other’s company. I didn’t think much about the heavy stuff. I guess I wanted us to avoid it, but that isn’t possible. “So, I apologize for making you feel like I was shutting down, especially after you were vulnerable with me. I wasn’t emotionally ready to process what you said.” The sides of my mouth turned up before I poked out my lips for a kiss. He obliged and my heart strings rippled. “I apologize for being childish and petty.”

I giggled as I opened Always Been You to where the wired bookmark was. This one was pink and shaped into the word ‘intimacy’. Pink meant it was either something wholesome, romantic, heartwarming, cute, or just gave me all the feels.

“Sooo,” he reached over me and grabbed my tablet, “which one of these nasty books do you want me to read to you?” He handed the device to me. “And I want a dude that got his girl wrapped like I got you...” I balled up my entire face as I squinted my eyes at him. “... and he gotta know how to lay the pipe. I ain’t about to read no wack sex scenes ‘cause I know these books be having one every chapter.”

“What’s that one about?” He pointed at a book with a smoky red cover. On it was a gold crown with a snake intertwined in the book title. “What that say under the title?” He leaned down, “An urban fairytale,” he read the subtitle of the book Power by an author named Bella Jay. It was part of a series I had been meaning to get around to because I enjoyed fairytale retellings, especially when they were Black.

“Yeah, it’s an Aladdin retelling but Black.” “Oh. Hood shit be happening?” I giggled. “Well, there’s a whole crime boss and some snake shit, so I would think so. Something like a mafia romance with a fairytale twist.” “Oh bet. You wit’ it?”

Him ‘pulling an Emmett’ had me ready to give him babies, even though kids were the furthest thing from my mind. But there was something about a man reading to me that had me ready to risk it all (more than I already had). For a split second, my brain literally wondered if the next time he filled my insides with his seeds, if I would be devastated if my IUD failed me and nine months later, a ‘your dad seduced me on our divorcemoon’ baby slid out my coochie.

Yeah, no. Kids in the mix of me being completely unaware of how to create happiness for myself without depending on outside sources wouldn’t be the best move. I guess the universe knew what was to come when it led both Juice and I to decide that kids weren’t something we wanted or needed to complete us.

The problem was, one of us wasn’t like the other. Only one of us was wholeheartedly happy with who they had become, their career, and their life in general. And it wasn’t me. But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was savoring this memory of the words on the pages of a great book being read to me by a grown ass, fine ass, loving ass Black man. I loved that for me.

On our way back to the lake house, my dick had every intention of seeing what was going on with The Real Organs of Brooklin when we slid up inside of her, but my entire body didn’t get the memo.

It was awkward at first because like most people who were in the know of our pending divorce, our parents didn’t understand why we were separating. They knew why but didn’t understand it.

Her thirty-fifth birthday wasn’t until next weekend, but I had no clue what the future held for us, so I wanted to do something special for her today to acknowledge it.

She blew out the candles with a grin on her face, and I hoped she wished for the same thing I did for her — true happiness from within.

As I sat on the couch and Books made me her personal body pillow, the way I loved her to, my mind wandered to the last time we did this. It was right before one of the worst days of my life — the day she told me she wanted a divorce.

classes, and I figured she had forgotten to tell me. But then, I saw her car was still in the roundabout, and before I went to text her — I saw it. A small white envelope with my name on it. I didn’t know why, but the way my heart sank when I noticed it, I knew I wasn’t going to like whatever was in that envelope. And I didn’t. She had written me a letter, telling me how much she loved me, but she wasn’t happy, and she wanted a divorce because she couldn’t continue depending on me to make her happy.

So she wasn’t happy because of something going on within herself. And she basically said she can’t hang on and depend on the thing that does make her happy 🫢 oh my fuck

To make that apparent, I was an asshole for weeks. When I got served, I ripped up the first set of divorce papers. I just didn’t and couldn’t believe it. Nothing made sense. We were happy. We were good. We were living the life of our dreams.

From my standpoint, our relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was solid. The love we had for one another was unmatched in my eyes. I made sure that she wanted for nothing. I provided for her and gave her the life I thought she deserved. Nothing made sense.

But apparently, it wasn’t about us. It was about her. I was happy. I thought we were good. I was living the life of my dreams. Apparently… she wasn’t. Eventually, I came around to agreeing to what she needed, but that shit wrecked me. How did I pride myself on being a great husband and provider and I dropped the ball on this? It still fucked with me. She was my per...

I realized how these last three days had been healing to my soul. When I originally came up with the idea to do this trip, it was because I wanted to do something that she’d remember forever no matter what. Something that would make her happy. Plus, and most importantly, so that anytime she picked up that favorite book of hers, or used one of the custom bookmarks, she’d think of me, us, and this trip. I was honest when I told her that I wasn’t doing this to change her mind. Something deep within me didn’t want to change it. No matter how much this shit devastated me.

I wanted to give her the space to find herself, even if that meant I had to suffer. Some people might’ve thought I was stupid for not fighting for my marriage — for the woman who would always have my heart — but I did fight.

However, I knew when to fold because I saw it in her eyes, I couldn’t fix this. And I was a fixer. But this wasn’t an outside source. It was an inner battle that had nothing to do with me. Did I want a divorce? Hell no. Did I think this was the end of us? Absolutely the fuck not. That was why I was willing to let her go… for now. “Slytherin,” Book...

“Me neither, but that weekend was everything. As it should have been since I did fly nine hours just to surprise you for your graduation.” “Yeah,” I ran a hand over my beard and the large grin on my face. Books had been studying abroad in Spain for the semester and wasn’t set to return until the end of summer. Yet, she showed up for me. “You know that’s when I knew I was going to marry you.” Her head whipped my way. Pure shock written all over her golden-brown face at my revelation. I don’t know why I never thought to share that with her.

“A girl, who I wasn’t even dating, got on a plane from motherfuckin’ Europe to come spend less than forty-eight hours with me, just to celebrate my graduation? Hell yeah, I was gonna wife your ass.” Her smile was infectious as I continued. “I remember being so fucking taken aback when I saw you with that ugly homemade sign you had,” she shot me the bird, “and that cute ass yellow dress, looking like my own personal piece of the sun. And when we hugged, there was just this instant switch that told me you were it.” She covered her mouth and cheeks with her hands. “That’s why I had to dead that ‘we’re just friends’ thing before you got back on the plane. I just didn’t know you were gonna let me hit as a graduation gift so that you wouldn’t get — what did you call it? Oh right, blue clit.”

She held the side of my face before tonguing me down for a solid minute. “I knew you liked me, but I had no idea you’d thought about me being your wife then.” Her thumbs massaged the back of my neck. “As far as me showing up…I remember you mentioning in one of our email threads, that you were gonna be the first person to graduate from college in your family. Immediately, I knew I was gonna be there, in-person, no matter what. I just,” she shrugged, “wanted to be there to see it happen and celebrate with you.”

“What does happiness look like for you?”

His question put my body in a chokehold. Because my immediate thought was being with him is what happiness looked like to me.

I couldn’t think of one thing that made me happy, outside of books, that didn’t stem from my relationship with others. And really, if I was being wholeheartedly honest with myself, books had been my escape from reality.

Read me for filth

I began to see how much of my happiness was dependent on him and our relationship. I wasn’t able to fully love myself independent of his love, attention, or validation.

However, being with Juice had put him — and many times us — in the spotlight. All the things I hated, I had to get used to. I had to adjust to the lack of privacy, the thirsty hoes, and to being right back in someone’s shadow. And most importantly, I had to adapt to Juice not giving me all of his attention.

Mainly because after I graduated, I followed Juice around like a lost puppy he’d fed. I became the best girlfriend ever because as long as his needs were met, he’d give me all the love and attention I craved.

All that I felt it took from me because I was dependent on Juice for my happiness.

“I don’t know,” I finally let the words tumble out. My head was against his chest, and I was glad I could focus on anything but him. “My first thought when you asked, was being with you. Because it’s true. Being with you makes me happy. I’ve been overwhelmed with so much joy these last few days just from being in your presence.” Like an addict who broke out of rehab and got their first hit. “When I imagined my life,” I continued, “it was being in love and being loved like the characters I had read in books. And it’s crazy because I have that. We are literally a friends to lovers romance. You’re my millionaire book bae who came from nothing to something, with BDE, that many of my listeners would drool over, and probably try to fight me for. “But yet and still, I’ve realized everything you are, and everything we were is not enough when I can’t even tell you who I am outside of you. Or know how to enjoy my own life without you. It shouldn’t be like that and that’s the issue.” I took a deep breath to reel in my emotions.

“All that to say, I guess happiness for me would be discovering Brooklin sans Elgin. I want to find out how to be happy without looking to you, or anybody else, to bring me that happiness.”

“You do know you can’t date for at least half of the time we were together, right? So, half of fifteen years is seven and a half. And we gotta times that by seven because it’s actually in dog years when it comes to how long you gotta wait. So, if my math serves me right, you gotta be single until you a smooth eighty-seven, unless you get back with me.” “Ummm…” “If you wanna be popping it wide open for Devontae in the old folks’ home when you in your eighties, by all means, do you. But until then, you gotta be single.” I sat up, rubbing my temples because why was he like this? “To repeat, the only exception is getting back with me.”