The Ex Files (23 page)

S
HERIDAN

Sheridan slowed her car and edged to the curb behind Brock’s truck. She closed her eyes and remembered Brock’s face twenty-four hours before. She tried to imagine the sight—her in Quentin’s arms—through his eyes.

She wished now that she had called last night, no matter that it was after eleven before she and Tori had returned home from dinner with Quentin. But it was because they needed time—and space—to talk that she hadn’t made the call.

She grabbed the flowers she’d purchased and stepped toward Brock’s door, her thoughts on all the words she’d say. She wondered what her friends and family would think. Her mother and Tori wouldn’t be surprised. And Kamora would think it was about time. Of course, the ladies of the prayer group would have a word or two to say.

She inhaled the floral sweetness of the bundle she held and then rang the bell. Almost a minute passed before she pressed the button again. Then, again. Again.

She held the flowers close and breathed in. Now, this gift, this offering, this pledge of their future, would have to wait until tomorrow.

Just as she turned away, the front door opened, slightly, barely enough for her to see all of him.

“Hey, you.” She smiled.

His greeting was not as warm. “I wasn’t expecting you, Sheridan.”

“I know. But I wanted to see you. I wanted to talk.”

He shrugged, kept his face empty as if he couldn’t imagine what words she’d come to say. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

She took a breath, steadied herself. “Can we do this inside?” she asked, then looked over her shoulder. “I want some privacy.”

“Sheridan…” He shook his head.

“Brock, please.”

He hesitated, then stepped aside, letting her in. Once he closed the door, Sheridan waited for him to invite her into the living room or den, or any of the rooms of his home where they’d shared hours of joy.

But he stood, his hands stuffed inside his jeans pockets.

“These are for you.” She handed him her floral offering. “It may sound corny, but I wanted you to look at these and remember us; the way our love is blooming.” She grinned.

He frowned. Looked at the flowers as if they were dead, then tossed the bundle atop the table on the week’s pile of mail.

A deep breath, and then Sheridan said, “Brock, I saw you yesterday.”

He looked straight into her. “I saw you, too.”

“I just want to make sure that you know there’s nothing between me and Quentin.”

He smiled a little, shook his head. “I don’t know why you keep denying it.”

“I deny it because it’s true. For some reason, I haven’t convinced you how much I love you. And I’m sorry for that.”

“You don’t have to apologize for what you feel, for what’s in your heart.”

She took a step closer to him. “What’s in my heart is yes.”

He frowned, leaned back a bit. “Yes?”

She nodded, widened her smile. “Yes, I want to marry you. And I want us to set a date now.”

He stared, as if trying to see her real thoughts. “That’s what you came to tell me?”

“Yes. I’ve always wanted to marry you. But I wasn’t ready….”

“And now you are.”

“Definitely.”

“I guess Quentin helped you make this decision.”

She shook her head. Spoke faster. “Quentin has nothing to do with this. What you saw yesterday, we were just talking—”

“Didn’t look like talking.”

“About Tori. She’s having a hard time in school.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“That’s all you saw.”

“So, what made you decide that now is the time?”

“I…don’t know. I just know that I’m ready.”

“Sheridan, it doesn’t even sound real.”

“But it is. So”—she pressed a smile on her face—“will you marry me?”

A moment passed. He shook his head, and pushed the word through his lips, “No.”

She squinted as if she didn’t understand. “I thought this was what you wanted.”

Sadness was inside his eyes when he said, “What I want, but it’s not what you want.”

“Yes, it is!” She took his hands.

He paused, giving thought to her words. Then shook his head more.

“Why don’t you believe me?”

He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “Because you’re not telling me the truth.”

“Yes, I—”

“Let’s do this from truth, Sheridan. If you can do that, we’ll set a date tonight.” He took a deep breath. “I saw you with Quentin yesterday.”

“I explained that.”

“I know what you said, but I know better what I saw.” He paused. “Tell me that Quentin is not in your heart.”

“He’s not,” she said, her voice, suddenly softer.

“Tell me you don’t think of him. Tell me you don’t wonder about the what ifs—you don’t wonder what your life would be like if Quentin had not left. If the two of you were still together.” He paused, swallowed hard. “If…you’d never met me.”

All the reassuring words were inside, but she couldn’t get them out. Couldn’t push the words past the images of Quentin—in the coffee shop, at the grocery store, last night at dinner, where they laughed and joked with Tori as if they were a family. And then, there was still that almost-kiss. Finally, “All that matters is that I love you.”

“Not enough.”

“I want to marry you.”

“That won’t make Quentin go away. He’s with you, Sheridan. Be honest and do what’s best for you and it will be best for me. Let it be what it is.”

Her lips quivered. “I came over here to fix us—to be with you.”

He pulled her into his arms before her first sob escaped. “I’m sorry,” he said. His apology sounded more like a good-bye.

She cried more. After a moment, he leaned back and kissed her forehead. Then he pulled from their embrace and opened the front door.

Sheridan stood in place, not wanting to move; not knowing what would be on the other side if she walked out that door.

“You should go, Sheridan.”

She wanted to fight, but his stance told her the battle was over. She took tentative steps, stopped in front of him. When he wrapped his arms around her, his embrace told her that what she had planned as their beginning, he had turned into their end.

Then, with lips as soft as satin, he kissed her.

She stepped outside, but when she turned around, he had already gently closed the door.

She didn’t hide her tears. Couldn’t, because her cries were for much more than just this moment. She sobbed for Brock, but she wept for her history. First Quentin, then her father, and now Brock. It was official—she’d lost every man she ever loved.

A
SIA

Bobby’s words made Asia sink into the chair. “So, what time should I pick up Angel?”

“I’m…not sure. I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to take Angel to your house.”

“I know this is last-minute, but when Marcus said he was bringing his girls by, I thought this would be a good time for Angel to be here, too. Like I told you last night, Caroline’s in Dallas, so this works.”

Shock didn’t allow her to speak.

He continued, “And I want Angel to see where I live. I want her to spend time with me”—he lowered his voice—“and Caroline…here.”

Two voices battled inside: one side cheered—the downfall of Bobby Johnson was near. But the other side of her mind made her remember last night. After Bobby left, it had taken hours for Angel to close her eyes and finally surrender into a restless sleep. Asia had barely slept herself, watching her daughter twist and turn and thrust through the night.

This morning, Angel had not spoken any words beyond “Morning, Mommy,” her fears etched solidly inside her frown.

Asia’s heart ached with more pain than she thought possible, but she couldn’t deny that the plan was working.

But Bobby’s house? No, was what she wanted to say.

And then she remembered Caroline’s laughter.

“Okay.” Her agreement came quickly. “But only for an hour,” she said, as if it were a warning. “I’ll run by my aunt’s and then come right back for Angel.” For minutes after she hung up, she sat, thinking. Then, with heavy steps, she went to Angel’s room.

“Hey, precious.”

For the first time since yesterday, Angel smiled. “Mommy, can I take my new doll to Auntie Grammy’s house?” She held up the toy.

“We’re not going to Auntie Grammy’s today.”

“Okay.” Angel shrugged and turned back to the doll.

“Precious,” Asia began, “I have some errands to run and while I do that, you’re going to…Daddy’s house.”

The doll dropped to the floor, but Angel didn’t look down. “Mommy, I don’t want to go with Daddy. I want to go with you.”

“It’ll just be for a little while.”

With a steady voice, Angel repeated, “I don’t want to go with Daddy.”

Asia turned toward the closet, needing to keep her eyes from her daughter’s sad ones.

“I won’t be very long.” She faced Angel and held up a red plaid top and matching jeans. “You can wear this.” Her favorite outfit—meant to take her focus away from where she’d spend the afternoon.

But Angel’s stance told Asia it wasn’t working. Angel didn’t speak, didn’t move. Just pleaded with her eyes. Stayed in her place as Asia continued chatting as if words could erase the fears of both of them.

Almost an hour later, Asia rounded her car around the Bel-Air driveway where just weeks before she’d driven with the highest hopes.

In the back of the car, Angel sat, still wearing the same tears in her eyes that she’d had for the last hour. Asia fought the urge to pull Angel into her arms and take them both far, far away.

We’re almost there
, she assured Angel in her mind as she helped her climb from the backseat. In silence, they inched toward the front door. Before she rang the bell, Asia crouched down and looked into her daughter’s eyes.

Terror stared back, taking away Asia’s breath for a moment. “No matter what happens, remember Mommy will be right back, okay?”

Angel barely nodded.

“No matter what Daddy does,” Asia continued, “I’ll be right back for you.”

A tear crawled down Angel’s cheek. “Mommy, why do I have to stay?” she whispered. “I think Daddy is bad.”

Asia hugged her daughter. “For just a little while,” she spoke softly into Angel’s ear, “I promise.”

They held each other until the front door swung open. “There’s my girl.” Bobby strolled outside covered in only a black cashmere bathrobe.

Asia frowned. “Why aren’t you dressed?” She pulled Angel closer to her.

He shrugged, said, “Like you’ve never seen me…” He stopped, looked down at Angel. Cleared his throat and continued, “I just got out of the shower, glanced at the camera in the bedroom, and saw you coming up the driveway.” Without another thought, he opened his arms toward Angel.

She shrank from his grasp.

“You’re still not feeling well?”

“She feels fine now,” Asia said, not wanting Bobby to change his mind. She needed Angel to stay here, for just a little while. “She wants to go with me, but I told her she’s going to spend the afternoon with you.”

“Ah, come on,” he said, taking Angel’s hand. “What’s this all about? We always have fun together.”

As Bobby pulled her toward the door, Angel looked back at her mother.

“I love you,” Asia mouthed. She stood in place until Bobby closed the door.

“I’m doing the right thing,” she said, as she wiped away her own tears. She edged her car onto the street, beating down the urge to turn back and rescue her daughter. “Hang on, Angel,” she said as she raced toward her aunt’s home.

This part of the plan was complete. Angel was ready. It was time to solidify her witnesses. Things were so much better with the ladies at prayer; they would definitely be on her side. But no one in the world would doubt her accusations when one of the most respected pastors in the country stood next to her as well.

Pastor Ford hugged Asia. “Where’s Angel?”

Asia tossed her purse onto the couch and sank into the full cushions. “Bobby insisted that she spend the day with him.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.” Pastor Ford chuckled. “Letting him insist on anything with Angel.”

“She’s his daughter, too.”

“Like I don’t know that. But he knows Sundays belong to us. So, why did he want Angel today?”

Asia shrugged. Kept her eyes away from her aunt. “I don’t know,” she said in a small voice.

“What’s wrong?” Pastor Ford frowned.

Asia had practiced this—knew just when to slump her shoulders, droop her lips, make tears come to her eyes. It was all part of the plan, but none of that was needed. Her emotions were real as she remembered Angel’s face.

“Aunt Beverly,” she said as she twisted on the couch, “I’m worried about Bobby and Angel.”

Pastor Ford’s frown deepened. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head just a bit. “There’s something…”

“Chiquita, you better tell me what’s going on.”

Asia shrugged. “Angel used to love seeing Bobby. But recently…today, she didn’t want to go with him at all.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you asked her?”

“No, because I don’t want to put any ideas in her head.” She sighed. “Maybe I’m so mad at Bobby that I’m seeing something that’s not there because he ended our relationship.”

“So, it’s really over with you two this time?”

She nodded. “Bobby’s wife did something that you could never do, Aunt Beverly. She convinced me that no matter how much Bobby was with me, he loves her.” She paused, lifted her chin higher. “I realize that I have to move on.”

“You’re handling this better than I ever thought you would.”

“I’m trying to.”

“So, it doesn’t sound like you would be imagining something about Bobby…with Angel. What specifically has you concerned?”

She hesitated. “If I had something, you’d be the first one I’d talk to. I guess I just need to watch Bobby and Angel.”

Beverly Ford planted her hands on her niece’s shoulders, forcing her to look straight into her eyes. “Are you saying”—she spoke slowly—“that you think Bobby is molesting Angel?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Chiquita!” Pastor Ford called her name so loudly that Asia jumped. “If you think your daughter is being molested, you need to get her out of there. We need to take Angel somewhere to find out what’s going on.”

“But supposed it’s all in my mind?”

“You’re her mother. If you feel it, trust it.”

Those were almost the same words Vanessa had said to her.

Pastor Ford continued, “Something’s going on.” She stood, walked away, but before she left the room she turned back to Asia. “We’re going to get Angel.”

“Aunt Beverly,” Asia began. This was not part of the plan. All she’d wanted to do was plant seeds. She hadn’t counted on her aunt wanting to rush to Bobby’s house. “I don’t want to create a scene over there. I don’t want to scare Angel and I don’t want to accuse Bobby of something that’s not—”

“We can’t afford to wait and see. I want to speak to Angel myself.”

“Okay. You wait here and I’ll get Angel.”

“I’m going with you.” Before Asia could protest, Pastor Ford held up her hand. “I’ll wait in the car. Bobby doesn’t have to see me, but I’m going with you. I’m going to get dressed.”

Asia’s hands shook as she waited, but after a few breaths, calm returned. Maybe this was better. Her aunt would see Angel’s fear and then her aunt Beverly and Angel together would shout the truth to everyone about Bobby Johnson.

That meant that today would be the beginning of the end for the man she once loved. And he had his wife to thank for all of this.

“Mommy!” Angel screeched.

Asia crouched down in time for Angel to jump into her arms. Asia’s eyes shifted between Bobby and Angel.

“I don’t know what’s wrong.” Bobby held up his hands. “She’s been crying from the moment you left.”

Asia pried Angel’s trembling arms from around her neck. “Precious, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I want to go home, Mommy,” she cried. “I want to go home. Now.” She rested her head on Asia’s shoulder.

Asia lifted Angel into her arms and glared at Bobby. This was a setup, right? Bobby hadn’t been really molesting their daughter—had he? “Are you sure nothing happened?” she asked through squinted eyes.

Bobby shrugged. “First yesterday, now today. It’s strange.” He reached toward Angel, but the moment he touched her, she screeched so loud, Pastor Ford jumped from the car where she’d promised to stay.

“What’s going on?” Pastor Ford demanded as she marched toward her niece.

“Auntie Grammy!” Sobbing, Angel wiggled from Asia’s grasp and ran into her aunt’s arms.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Bobby said. “I thought she was just being cranky. She wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t drink. I thought she’d be happy to see her room….”

“What room?”

“I told you, I want her to spend time with me…and Caroline.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“That’s another conversation,” Pastor Ford interjected. “I’m taking Angel to the car.” She exchanged a long look with Bobby before she trotted away with Angel in her arms.

“She’s just being moody,” he said once he stood alone with Asia. “Maybe something’s going on at school.”

“Maybe something’s going on with you.”

He frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Never mind.” Asia turned away.

“Hey,” Bobby called after her. “I still want to talk about me and Caroline and Angel—” She slammed the car door on his words.

“Go to my house,” Pastor Ford demanded. In the backseat, she held Angel, caressed her, calmed her cries. “It’s going to be all right.”

But Pastor Ford’s tranquil tone couldn’t calm Asia. Her heart crashed against her chest. How could this plan have gone so awry? Only Bobby was supposed to be hurt. First, there were to be the accusations. And then the investigation. Nothing would be found, of course, but enough questions would be asked to embarrass Bobby forever. At best, the scandal would cost him his position with ESPN, sending both him and his bourgeois wife scampering from the city in shame. All of the damage was meant for Bobby—none to Angel.

“Sweetheart,” Pastor Ford began when Angel’s sobs subsided. “Why are you crying?”

“Daddy’s bad. He touches me and kisses me and he’s not supposed to.” The cries started again and this time, Asia wept with her.

Not another word was spoken until Pastor Ford and Asia tucked Angel into the bed in the guest room. Silence stayed until Angel closed her eyes and slept.

“I’m going to take care of this right now,” Pastor Ford whispered before she stomped from the room.

Asia gently wiped Angel’s still moist cheek. Her hands shook as she adjusted the blanket, but that wasn’t all that trembled. Every part of her wavered as she searched Angel’s face for a sign to match the words she’d spoken: “Daddy’s bad.”

The words she’d wanted to hear, but the words that now slayed her. The words that were meant to be a lie, but now sounded too much like the truth.

Finally, Asia left her daughter alone. She found her aunt pacing the length of the living room, her head bowed in thought. It was a stance that Asia had seen before. Sometimes her aunt just had to move—most often when she was upset.

“I cannot believe this,” Pastor Ford said once she noticed Asia. “Bobby’s been molesting Angel.”

This was the moment she’d worked for. But the revenge she craved didn’t taste very sweet.

“Do you…really think so?”