Love Delivered (17 page)

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Then I heard movement. Someone looking into the peep hole. I froze, not knowing what to expect. I didn’t have time to think. The door slowly pulled open to a dark suite. Zoey’s small frame came into view. Her long thick hair damp, freshly washed and pulled over one shoulder. She wore nothing but a thin pink silk robe, distinctively bare beneath. Her eyes were rimmed in pink. She’d been crying.

No!  

“Niña…” I cried dried tears in that single word…it was a question.

The question I’d already known the answer to having been her lover. Her first. She’d been fucked. My precious, pure and feisty Niña had been defiled by another man. My worst nightmare had materialized. My greatest fear had manifested. Another man sampled my treasure. My Niña.

Deliberately and cynically, an implied smile drew on her dejected face and quickly disappeared.

“He was a gentleman, Stenton,” her shaky vocals produced.

Then Zoey backed out of the frame and released the handle, allowing the door to slam in my face. I lost the battle with my wobbling legs, collapsing to the floor on my haunches. I didn’t lose consciousness, just the control of my limbs. 

I’d never been a man of displayed emotions. Never was I the type to let shit get to me, never wanting to be controlled by anyone or thing. That was the moment I learned how sovereign
love
really was. It was then that I realized
that
phenomenon yielded more power than money, fame, or a botched heart could ever.

That was the event that kicked off my black out period. I don’t know how I made it off the floor, neither do I recall my trip back to my suite. I barely registered playing the following day. I just performed. I didn’t need to mentally check in to execute what my body was naturally inclined to do. It would be about a month before I’d be able to process the professional activities of that weekend.

Erika and I were supposed to head to Houston for two days after All-Star weekend to a gathering. There was no way I could be around her or any other pretentious fucks. So, I sent her alone while I headed back east. I needed solace before continuing on in the season. My chest was heavy the whole trip back, my world bleak.

It was close to seven in the evening when my limo arrived in front of my doorstep. When I closed the door to my home in Alpine, I collapsed my back on it and pulled my phone out to tap a few keys. Then I raised it to my ear and waited on bated breath.

“Praise the Lord. Barrett residence,” her faux high-pitched tone now mollified me.

“
Sarah
…” I breathed.

That cry was similar to the one I made for Zoey in front of her suite door, only this one loosened something in my chest. I didn’t know how the urge came about any more than I understood my draw to her. I’d always said I didn’t need a mother figure. That if I did, the big Man upstairs would have seen fit to give me a healthy, attending one. After all, I’d acquired a lifestyle most could only dream of. Life could be just that unbalanced. I was wrong. In no time at all, this woman had become a refuge for me. Sarah was my touchstone. Her peaceful, nurturing and docile demeanor served as a blanket of comfort to me.

We’d developed a peculiar pattern that made it easy for me to open up without crying to her like a bitch. Although to Sarah I wasn’t the sentimental momma’s boy that I felt I was. She had always welcomed my defective state since my split with Zoey while she was carrying Jordan.  

“Stenton?” There was a pause because I didn’t know what to say. Within moments, she reminded me I didn’t need many words to communicate my mood to her. “It’s all in your voice, honey. Hang on.”

Then I heard her speak, presumably to Michael in the background. “
I’ll be back…going to the prayer room to talk to Stenton.
”

My fucking heart cracked. The room she referred to was her oldest daughter’s former bedroom. The bedroom I’d extracted her from when I knocked her up out of selfish need. The bedroom she was now retreating to for purposes relating to a backfire in my senseless plan to keep said daughter near me for life. This was all fucked up. I didn’t deserve her hospitality.

“Father God, in the name of Jesus, we thank you for Stenton. And we ask that whatever it is that’s troubling him…”

The beginning of her prayer jolted my guilt. But I wouldn’t reject her care. No fucking way. I needed it. I needed someone looking out for me. I needed Sarah Barrett. I wasn’t a praying man—outside of what I did with Sarah, and Jordan at night, thanks to Zoey’s training—but I believed in whomever she called on on my behalf because that’s how much I’d trusted her. Maybe it was the fierceness in her tone as she went in for me. Maybe it was the longevity in her requests for my unspoken needs as I went about the house, unpacking until I fell across the bed while clutching the phone to my ear. It could have been when she ended with “
In Jesus’ name. Amen
.” when I felt that unyielding sensation of soothing. I didn’t know.

But when she was done and asked, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

I answered, “No.”

There was no way I could share the debauchery in Dallas with her.

“That’s fair,” she muttered. “Is it bad?”

“Horrible. Probably the worst.”

“I think it’s time you talk to someone to help you sort yourself out, Stenton. Not a…shrink, but someone professional with a good moral compass. Someone you can identify with enough to be comfortable with sharing.”

“Who?” my voice was delivered muffled from my slack jaw resting on the mattress.

“I have someone in mind. A young man of God name Ezra. He’s in New York City. I’ve been thinking a lot about this. I want you to meet him. Would you do this for me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I slurred.

I heard her sigh of relief. “Good.” Then I heard the smile in her voice. “Now, can I talk about my favorite little baby’s latest developments to share my joy?”

I exhaled hard, rolling out my despair. The reference to my little man was a welcome distraction.

“Please do.”   

Now

August 2014

~
Stenton
~

“Are you sure you understand what this means, Elizabeth?”

Zoey’s head snaps up and I don’t recognize the enmity in her eyes. She’s never this heated.

“Yes, Edward, I do understand. Just as I understood almost seven years ago when I sat at this very table with my bewildered parents, dying inside from what I thought was the most juvenile error one could possibly make,” she grates. Then her eyes narrow. “Only this time, I know what apparently you and your prized client over here have cooking.”

“Eliza—”

“Don’t Elizabeth me, Chesney! Don’t speak my name as though you’re a friend. You’re just as much the perpetrator as he was. You two…colluding against me.” I roll my eyes, feeling my temper rising. I only have myself to fault. I’d done this to her. “If you continue at this rate, I will go out and hire a new attorney.”

“No, you won’t,” Chesney whines as he rubs his eyes while his arms are crossed femininely.

“Yes. I will. I can afford an attorney, and one of your caliber.”

“No, you can’t!” he cries again, too, affected by her animation.

“Don’t use knowledge from our “friendship”,” Zoey uses air quotations. “You have no idea what I can afford. Or do!”

“Oh, but I do—”

“Ches, man, that’s enough,” I hear the growl in my voice. I don’t want to lose it. We need at least one cool head at this table.

“…
but more importantly
,” he raises his volume to express correction. “…I don’t want you to!” Chesney roughly brushes his fingers through his blond hair. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want this to get messy with you two. Believe it or not, I care about you both. This can get so ugly, which is why I prefer my clients not engage in high risk behaviors such as this.” He moves closer to Zoey, calming his tone. “We can handle this in house. It’s called mediation. It doesn’t have to go any further.”

Zoey’s nose is flared and lips parted to the point of exposing her fangs. She looks like she’s about to break. It is time to talk with her.

“Chesney, a moment alone,” I mutter, my eyes still on Zoey.

Chesney doesn’t move initially. He wants some type of assurance from Zoey. Contrary to what she wants to believe, he does feel remorse for this shit. He has grown to like her. How could he not? I forced her upon him from the gate and all it takes is a few minutes in Zoey’s presence for you to be taken by her charm and brilliance.

When he sees she won’t so much as regard him, he quietly exits the room. I let out a long breath.

“Zo—”

“When were you going to tell me?” Her eyes sweep the table.

I open my mouth then close it when words don’t populate. Then I wet my lips. “I wanted to tell you for about four years now. It’s just never been the right
t
-time.” My emotions catch in my throat.

Her lids flutter. She’s fighting back a cry. “When I sat at this table, seven years ago, all I could chant while Chesney flaunted his arrogance in front of my parents was
this baby was conceived in love
. That was all I could do to keep my sanity. I was alone, disappointed, confused and scared,” she ends on a whisper. “Was he conceived by love, Stenton?” Now her eyes are on me. And there are the tears. “Was it just a baby you wanted…not me?”

Niña…

My chest is about to fucking explode.

“Zoey, I wanted every inch of you. I wanted each aspect of you, from your mind, your heart…your future. A baby was the means to an end in my selfish thinking. I was sick with not wanting to lose you. I didn’t think. I got caught up in some fantasy. It just felt like…” I purse my lips, upset with myself.

She angles her head and squints her eyes, mouth collapses. “How could you say that? How could you do something so grave under the guise of wanting me when you’ve been with everyone else but me? You impregnate me then leave me. You take my heart…and my body, then break up with me. It’s paradoxical.” Zoey’s eyes are pleading.

I stand, needing a breath and out of her proximity, fighting my need to comfort her. I amble over to the corner, shove my hands in my pockets and try to find the right words.

“You remember when Jordan was four months old and I came by to…see after you?” I don’t hear back from her. “You asked why we couldn’t be together. I told you then it was because you didn’t know what you were asking for. The truth of that matter was I was afraid to take on a commitment with you at that time because your ambition intimidated me. You knew exactly what you wanted to do and there was no doubt that you’d get there. You had a sharp mind and a dedicated family. I wanted all of that. I wanted you. But I didn’t want to put you on a different course.”

I turn to her and find her eyes on me.

“I couldn’t demand a permanent relationship. You kept saying marriage was on the back burner, that you had to live your life and find you before you could start thinking of committing to a man. You made it clear you wouldn’t be held back.” Her expression is impassive. I exhale. “Zoey, you were—and still are—so independent and courageous. All I could see was you moving on and finding a man with a less complicated life and career who was better suited. I didn’t want to take that risk.” My stomach toils and I swallow hard. I feel my palms misting. “I needed to make sure you didn’t get very far.”

“So, a baby…” she utters lowly.

My shoulders flop. I don’t know what else to say. So, I officially offer, very painfully, “I’m sorry, Zo. I sincerely apologize for the deception, the manipulation, the lies, the—”

“The wait,” she snorts softly, but I catch it loud and clear. “You give me a baby, and steal my heart, leaving me waiting to breathe.” Shit. I’ve felt the same way, all these years. A wry smile appears on her face. Zoey’s eyes are red and heavy, but she forces a smile. “Well, you did one hell of a job getting what you wanted.” She rises from the table. “You gave me a baby…or I should say, I gave you a baby. But the worst thing you did was rob me of the ability to love and breathe. I’ve lost seven years of potential good living, gave my body to two men, trying to escape my longing for you, and almost missed out on a career. Yeah, you made sure money was the last thing my family, child or I had to worry about, but neglected my heart. How does it feel, Stenton? How do you feel about your fatuous plan now?”

Zoey widens her stance, inadvertently exposing the width in her thighs, and crosses her arms over her abdomen, pushing her cleavage to an inappropriate view, though unintentionally. In this stance, I get the full revelation of her sexuality. When I met her, she was rather slender everywhere except for her breasts. Since having Jordan, she’s filled out, and age has added a few pounds, enhancing her femininity. When I met her she was pretty. Now, Zoey’s fucking beautiful. I’ve never come across a more alluring and fitting woman. Ever.

My head falls in surrender to my compounding feelings.

“I want you. I want us to be together finally. I don’t want to play the waiting game. I don’t want to feel guilty about having you. I’m ready. We’re ready.”

At first glance, Zoey’s chest rises. Then she pinches the bridge of her nose, resembling Chesney’s sulking posture earlier.

“You can’t say that. You can’t make me feel like the…Holy Grail after your distancing and manipulation over the years.”

“You drew the fucking wedge! You distanced yourself!” My explosion is more of a cry.

“
I HAD TO!
” she yells.

Zoey covers her mouth trying to hide her tears.

“I was a child, Stenton! I was vulnerable and in love! I just wanted that connection…that intimacy from you while I figured out life; not have you manipulate the course of it. I would have done
anything
you asked. Anything, Stenton! No. I didn’t want to get married when we met. But had you taken the time to pay attention instead of plot, you would have seen I wanted more with you than I wanted alone! You were my first lover. You exposed me to so much…your kinks…taught me about my own body. Yeah, the same man that refused to go without condoms even when I was on birth control!” She chuckles mockingly. “You’re unbelievable.”

No! I find myself drawing closer to her. I need to be heard clearly.

“You have no idea how much of an exercise in discipline it has been all these years using a fucking rubber when making love to pussy you know belongs to you.” Zoey gasps. “No matter what you believe, there was no worse punishment than to know the other piece of your fucking soul could possibly be giving a piece of herself…a piece of you to another man! You’ve accepted an engagement ring from another man. Do you know how tormented I’ve been? I may have been foolish, selfish and manipulative, but I’ve been holding my goddamn breath, too. I’ve suffered, too!”

Catching my breath, I realize I’m in her face, towering her curvy frame. She doesn’t speak, just reads my eyes. I don’t know how long we stay in this position, but I can’t move.

Zoey does. She shifts to strut over to the table to grab her clutch. On her way to the door, she hisses, “Revel in your self-torment. I’m moving forward with my engagement.”

And then she leaves, slamming the door behind her.

Fuck. My. Life.

~~~~~~~~~~

Then

April 2010

~
Zoey
~

A few weeks before Jordan’s birthday was the opening of my first bakery:
Niña’s Sweet Cakes
. I couldn’t believe the time had come. We’d had a small gathering to celebrate the occasion a few nights before and held high hopes for business. Boy, were my expectations crushed the first three days when we had a total of six customers, two being friends. Not only was my ego checked, but my fears started to rise. I’d already mentally prepared to not make a personal profit for at least the first quarter, but I still had Angela to pay.

Angela didn’t complain. In fact, she busied herself with whipping up concoctions for our still evolving menu. I’d consulted Chesney about it and even a professor and a few colleagues at school. All of the suggestions were the same and nothing I didn’t try. I refused to contact Jacques Moreau. I couldn’t if I wanted to. I’d burned that bridge after Dallas. I told him I wasn’t interested in more than that one night. He called for about a month after. He even made pop up visits to the campus, all for me to ignore and reject him. It felt childish, but I’d quickly decided forcing myself into a sexual relationship with a man wouldn’t cure what ailed me. I also vowed to myself to never sleep with a man who I had no emotional connection to. That could have likely been why I’d ended up feeling used after our only time together. 

I’ll never forget the moment my business trajectory changed. I was slouched over the counter with my fist holding my head up at the chin, looking just as dejected as I felt. I got caught up watching cars and utility vans park and set up across the street wondering what the heck was going on in this normally quiet block. It was a far better activity than what was going on in my soon-to-be-defunct bakery.

The door chimed, snatching my attention. It was him. He was tall. Taller than I recalled, ironically. His tatted body was mostly covered in sweats except for the ones on his neck that couldn’t be covered by anything but makeup. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses and his hat to the back. My chest heaved at the recognition of Stenton.

He didn’t smile and I didn’t have the benefit of his eyes. The last time I’d seen him was in Dallas when I’d coldly informed him I’d been with another man, something I still didn’t know who made him privy to. I hadn’t been speaking to Tynisha, swearing it was she who ran her mouth to him.

Stenton sauntered over to the showcase counter, regarding our display of luxury cupcakes. He had yet to look at me, which was likely ideal with the way my bottom lip swept the floor. It seemed like hours before he spoke.

“I’ll take two of each please,” he muttered with no resemblance of familiarity.

It took a few seconds before I realized I was looking like a Stenton Rogers fan, caught in the hype of his countenance.

“Uh… Oh… Two of each?”

“Yes, please,” he qualified.

Jumping into action, I immediately grabbed a sheet of dry waxed bakery paper and started building his order, packing the cupcakes into boxes. It took some time with my shaky, misty hands. What made the task even more daunting was the searing on the side of my face from his blazing eyes. I couldn’t return the gaze. I was too frazzled. Once done, I bagged the boxes and rang him up on the iPad I attached a card reader to for ringing up orders. When I turned to give him a total, Stenton was handing me a thousand dollar bill.

“I—” I quickly rephrased. “We don’t have change.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to keep it.” His eyes were inside the bag, inspecting the boxes.

“Thanks,” I breathed.

Stenton grabbed the bag, positioning to leave when he finally reached my eyes. My mouth hung agape.

“Such an intimate name, your business.”

I took a moment to consider his comment.

“It became so popular by a mere tweet. Thought I’d join the bandwagon.”

Did I really have to say that?
Seriously, Zo?