A Heart Not Easily Broken (The Butterfly Memoirs) (25 page)

I watched her perfect body’s seductive glide into the candle lit bathroom. Wicked thoughts came to mind as she leaned over the tub and ran water.

Unable to resist an open invitation to try something new, I grabbed the ice bucket, wine, both glasses, the chocolate, and a roll of condoms. I didn’t plan on leaving the tub until the water turned to ice or our bodies shriveled beyond recognition.

Tonight we would catch up on everything physical. After that, I’d find out what really bothered her.

Chapter 28

My bedroom never looked so inviting.

After three months of sleeping in the cramped quarters of the tour bus with six grown men and crashing in hotels, this was paradise. Well, not exactly, because my Eve wasn’t here.

Ebony and I made the most of our weekend. The establishment run by Yasmine’s family had been the perfect place to reconnect.

Once she’d stopped crying.

We spent most of our time in that room. Oddly enough we were in the Honeymoon Suite, the perfect backdrop for my future intentions. We lived off of room service, wearing nothing until our last evening. We’d walked hand in hand in the rose garden outside of our room. Ebony posed for some beautiful pictures I took with my cell phone. By the end of our stay, her smile and the glow in her eyes returned.  

But that was on the surface. I still hadn’t found what problem lay beneath.

All of my attempts to ask failed. Ebony knew exactly how to redirect my intentions with a flash of skin. After three months without her, it didn’t take much to lose my desire of intelligent conversation.

Now it was time to jump back into the real world.

First things first, open up the window and let in some fresh air. The room smelled like a closed up tomb. No doubt the door remained closed the entire time I was gone. Everything was just as I left it. Including the clothes hamper holding what I’d worn my last time here. They needed to be washed just like the ones held in my suitcase.

Maybe my mom would be so happy to see me, she would do my laundry. I chuckled. Yeah right. My mother stopped washing my clothes when I was in college. She’d found a thong as she pulled clothes out of the drier. It wasn’t mine of course, but she decided quickly she had no interest in what I did outside of her house.

I emptied my clothes from my suitcase into the basket. I could wash clothes when I visited my mom. My family knew I’d returned and respected the fact I needed to spend time with Ebony first. Her red thong fell out of the bag and onto the floor. I smiled and stuffed it into its new home in my nightstand. She wasn’t getting them back.

Which reminded me, the sheets needed washing. I stuffed those in a bag too. I planned to have her over as soon as possible and didn’t want her lying on sheets that had been on the bed for months.

Everything needed to be perfect. I intended to get to the bottom of things the next time we were together. By the end of our first night at the hotel, I’d realized expecting a straight answer about what was on her mind was foolish. Reconnection on a primal level was the one thing both of us needed. We held conversations over the phone for months. We were aware of what was going on in each other’s lives. There was nothing else to catch up on except the basic human need of physical contact. Long, lustful, erotic as hell sinful contact. We’d got that one down in record time.

My stomach growled reminding me of another basic need, food. I scavenged the fridge and came up with a bottle of beer. Javan always kept beer, but the pickings for something edible were slim. I was the one who kept the refrigerator full. He tended to eat out or pick something up on his way home. I glanced at my watch. Javan wouldn’t be off work for another five hours. I made note to grab some wings and fries from the Hot Wing Café on the way back from my parents. We’d catch up over dinner.

In the living room, I walked over to my CD collection in search of music to listen to in the truck.

Strange, the disks were out of order. My CDs were kept in alphabetical order by genre.

Ebony. She probably grabbed a few disks when she’d come for her ID. It was the only explanation that made sense. Javan never touched my music.

After thirty minutes of reorganization, two disks were missing. I decided to worry about it later.

My cell phone chimed, alerting me to an incoming message; Peter confirmed our scheduled meeting for this evening. After replying, I grabbed my clothes basket and headed for my truck.

My cousins had done a good job of running the business. I felt like a proud papa. They’d rarely called to ask questions, and my customers continued to be satisfied. They didn’t know I kept tabs.

I checked my business account weekly. Peter made sure deposits were made on time and in full amounts. They’d done such a good job I planned to let them run the business for a while longer.

After returning to L.A., B and D Records offered a paying studio job. Accepting the offer had been a no-brainer. The only problem was it hindered my ability to run my business effectively. My schedule needed to be clear as much as possible. I could be called in at any time during the day or night. My routines would revolve around whatever artist they assigned me to work with. I could not afford to be in the middle of cutting grass, hot and sweaty when I got the call. I had to be sure I had time to shower and change before reporting to the studio.

My cousins, on the other hand, could manage the business around their school schedule. I would let them keep the lawn tools and customer base. Thanks to their father, Dylan inherited an old work truck. It was perfect for a teen with no wheels, plus they could use it to get from job to job.

If they accepted my offer, I would officially have two full-time employees.

***

A few hours later, I returned from my parents’ house with a hamper full of freshly washed clothes and nearly half of my father’s apple pie. My mother swore Dad would be okay with sharing. Apparently, I was the only one who snagged pieces, which meant his waistline expanded while I was away. He hadn’t made it home before I left to confirm, so I took her word for it.

Visiting my mother yielded two things: a dinner invite for me and Ebony on Sunday and the knowledge my mother had spoken to Ebony nearly once a week while I was away.

Ebony never mentioned it. I wonder why?

Javan’s car was in the driveway when I returned home.

He wasn’t in the living room when I walked in carrying dinner and a fresh six-pack of beer. “Yo, Javan, where are you?” I set the meal down on the kitchen counter and roamed the house.

He wasn’t in his bedroom either, which meant one thing.

I walked into the weight room, formally known as the garage and storage space. “Hey, man.”

Javan lay on the bench, lifting weights as I walked in. He sat up, shirtless, with sweat pouring down his forehead and chest, his breath ragged.

He nodded in my direction but made no attempt to get up. “What’s up?” He appeared to have benched 175 pounds.

 I’d done my fair share of weightlifting, but intense workouts were never my favorite thing to do. When we were roommates in college, the testosterone of being eighteen flooded our bodies and drove us to compete regularly. Weights, running, sit ups, women. You name it; we’d probably competed in it. We both experienced our fair share of losses and wins.

Eventually, I found other means to satisfy my need to show off. Joining the band and surfing became my outlets. My business took up the rest of my time. Unlike Javan, my father didn’t send me checks every month to support me.

His father was a well-known psychologist in Atlanta, Georgia. Once Javan graduated, his father gave him a Dodge Charger and pulled strings for him to get a job at a local practice.

Javan was used to getting what he wanted. The words, ‘no’ and ‘hard work’ were obscene in his vocabulary. To this day I couldn’t understand why we remained friends after college.

He wasn’t a bad guy. Yeah, he could be selfish, arrogant, egotistical, and at times, a straight pain in the ass. But when I needed him, he’d been there.

“You haven’t missed a day lifting weights.”

Javan flexed. “Gotta give the ladies what they want.” He eyed his biceps longer than necessary.

“Ladies? I heard you were down to one now.” I walked over to spot him when he lay down and gripped the barbell again.

“Yeah, well…we’ve gotten…kind of serious…since you’ve…been gone…” he paused to catch his breath. “A lot has changed.”

“You can say that again,” I muttered.

He did another set of presses, sat up, grabbed a towel, and wiped his face. “So, did you guys hook back up?”

“Oh, yeah.” I grinned at the memory. “I didn’t know I would miss her so much.”

He laughed. “Yeah, a good piece of ass is hard to forget.”

“Ebony is not a piece of ass, but you’re right, she’s hard to forget. If everything keeps going this good, I’m going to marry her.”

“Marry her? You’re seriously thinking of marrying a black woman? Have you met her family yet?”

I hooked my thumbs in the front pocket of my jeans. “No. I plan to spend the next couple of months getting to know everything about her, including her family. In December, I’ll take her home and meet them.” At least that was my plan. Ebony didn’t know a thing about it.

Javan snickered. “I’d love to be a fly on that wall.”

“I’m not worried. If…
when
I marry her, it will be Ebony who’s my wife, not her family. If they won’t support us, mine will.”

He grabbed a bottle of water, gulped, and watched me. “Have you wondered why she’s still with you? I mean, could dating you be an experiment? You know what I’m saying? What if you got all wrapped up and found out she really wants to go back to black?” His chest puffed out. “What if she used you as means to stay busy while waiting for her dream man? I’m sure her parents will have a lot to say about who she marries.” He gathered his towel and strolled back into the house. When he reached the door, he paused. “You might want to see if she cheated while you were gone.”

“What?” I stared at him.

“Think about it. You guys haven’t been together long. Then you leave her alone.” He shrugged. “It wouldn’t take much for a brother to,” he sucked his teeth and smirked, “pick her up and take care of where you left off. Yasmine mentioned she’d been acting weird lately. But don’t pay me any attention, what do I know?” He laughed as he walked off.

I stood rooted to the floor and watched his back disappear through the door.

My chest felt tight. Ebony cheating on me was the last thing I worried about. She didn’t waste time telling me if she didn’t want something. She’d made that clear the night we met.

She hadn’t shown any signs of wanting out of our relationship. Did I miss something? Could that be the reason why she’d changed? Was there someone else waiting in the wings for her to push me away?

Maybe spending time at the hotel had been too much. Maybe her intention had been to break up with me, face-to-face, but I messed up the plan by surprising her with a romantic weekend.

Damn. I didn’t know what to think.

We needed to talk. We were in my bed the first time we made love. It was there we’d promised to be together when I returned. Maybe when I got her there again, in my arms and in my bed, she’d be ready to tell me what was really going on. 

Chapter 29

“Ebony, hello? Are you in there?”

The tap on my shoulder and waving hand in my face nearly caused me to jump out of my skin.

“Are you okay? You seem distracted.” Laura, another zoo intern, stood staring at me.

I blinked rapidly while shaking my head and focused on the sleeping infant in my arms.

Nala hadn’t gotten any better over the weekend. Instead her condition got worse. Watching her energetic spark burn out, depressed me. Her eyes were sallow and her weight continued to decrease. I’d spent the past three months wrapping my life around caring for her. It felt like her demise warned of the failure of my own future.

Nala had been born the week I meet Brian. As she grew, so did our relationship. Her illness began after Brian left, after my rape. Since his return, she continued to get worse. Right after I’d looked him in the face and lied.

It seemed as though no matter what I did, the lie compounded. Any effort to rectify it would expose my secret.

“I’m okay, just tired. Brian came back in town, and we spent the weekend together.” Which made no sense; it was Wednesday, not Monday. It didn’t stop nosey Laura from getting a kick out of it though.

“You’re still worn out? Way to go, Ebony.” Her laughter filled the room as she pulled supplies out of a cabinet.

If it were only that simple.

The most sleep I’d gotten in months came from lying in Brian’s arms. But that changed the moment I opened my mouth.

Continuing my claim of being ‘okay’ didn’t seem big at the time. But I never expected him to ask about pregnancy.

After our ‘oops’, neither of us brought it up again. Brian’s hectic road schedule kept his mind on music. I struggled to forget the rape and worried about catching an STD. Keeping my secret was more important to me than mentioning the results of a pregnancy test.

The possibility of carrying Javan’s child had scared me more than having Brian’s baby. I’d rushed out and purchased the morning-after pill from an all-night drugstore the moment I found out about it. The guilt of knowing I could have killed the baby of the man I loved would never leave.

Brian knew something was wrong and tried his best to question me. Trying to keep his mind diverted had worn me out physically. Not that I was complaining. Being able to make love repeatedly chased away some of the demons that plagued me.

But I was still a liar. I’d stolen something from him and needed to give him an explanation.

How could I explain it?

‘Brian, to be sure you didn’t get me pregnant, I took measures to kill our baby.’

That would be the biggest lie of all. Whether I was pregnant or not, intentionally killing our baby would never have happened. ‘A child made from love’, Brian had said when he placed his hand lovingly on my belly.