Too Little, Too Late (19 page)

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Authors: Victoria Christopher Murray

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Religious

BOOK: Too Little, Too Late
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FORTY-TWO

H
OSEA TIPTOED INTO THE SUITE
, dropped the overnight bag next to the door, and then moved through the darkness. Careful not to make a sound, he sank onto the couch. And rested.

He had to—he was emotionally exhausted. He was on a roller coaster, a ride that had begun…with that kiss.

Last night, when he’d returned to his hotel room, he’d climbed into bed, drunk with thoughts of Natasia. And her lips. And her hands.

Then he thought about his wife. Thought about calling her. But didn’t want to call too late. Didn’t want to wake her. Didn’t want her to hear anything in his voice that would give her a clue that he was filled with guilt.

Although it wasn’t like he’d been unfaithful, not really. Natasia had kissed him. And he’d stopped her.

But he couldn’t stop the thoughts. Couldn’t stop wondering what could have happened. Almost wishing that it might, maybe, perhaps, somehow would happen again.

Then this morning Natasia had knocked on his door, and stepped into his space with confidence.

“We have to meet Dr. Marshall as a team,” she began, “and before we go to his offices, I wanted to apologize. About last night.”

He’d been nervous, shifted back and forth as if he was trying to be a moving target.

She continued, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you. But it wasn’t me.”

He frowned, not understanding.

“It was the wine,” she said.

He’d said nothing, just watched her lips move.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to get with you or anything.” She continued, “I am very clear that it’s over between us.”

For the first time he wondered if that was what he really wanted.

“So, am I forgiven?”

He spoke his first words. “All is forgiven.”

“Thanks.”

“And forgotten.”

She laughed. Looked him up and down as if she didn’t believe that part.

From that point on, she’d acted professionally. On the car ride to Dr. Marshall’s office, she chatted as if she didn’t feel the heat between them. Inside the meeting, she talked as if there was nothing more on her mind than Dr. Marshall and his
Street Soldiers.
And as they left the building, she’d waved to someone waiting in a tinted-windowed Mercedes and told him, “Go on to the airport. I’m having dinner with a friend. May not get back to L.A. until tomorrow.” Then, she strolled away as if he’d never meant a thing to her.

Seemed like what she’d said was true—it was just the wine.

Seemed like what he’d said wasn’t true—all was not forgotten.

Why can’t I get her out of my mind?

“You’re back.”

He turned around and saw his wife’s silhouette in the doorway. Even in the dark, he could see the outline of her thighs, barely covered by her short nightgown. “I’m sorry, darlin’,” he said softly. “Did I wake you?”

“No. I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been calling you all day.”

“Sorry. My phone was dead. I didn’t take my charger with me.” He reached for the light.

“Leave it off.” She stood over him, and they stared at each other before he pulled her onto his chest.

He sighed, relishing her familiar weight. “I missed you,” he whispered, and meant it. He kissed her and his hands glided over the satin that she wore. “I couldn’t wait to get back to you and Jacquie.”

“Is that because you couldn’t wait to get away from Natasia?” she asked, as if that was a normal question.

He froze as she stared into his eyes. Wondered if she was searching him for the truth. Wished that she would ask him nothing else.

His wish was not granted.

“Why did you lie about Natasia?”

He was as stiff as a statue. “I didn’t lie.”

“Was she in Oakland?”

He said, “Yes,” and was amazed that he could speak without breathing.

“Then it was a lie. No matter how it happened. Commission or omission, it was a lie.” Her voice stayed calm.

“I didn’t know she was going to be there,” he said, trying to be as cool as his wife.

“But once she got there—”

“I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d be worried.”

“It was worse when I found out from someone else. Then I was really worried. Imagined all kinds of things.”

Hosea had to fight to hold his gaze with hers. But he wanted her to look into his eyes, so she would see the truth. “I would never do anything with her. I would never do that to you.”

A beat. “I believe you.”

He exhaled. “But I am sorry. We promised no secrets. I should’ve told you the moment she got there.”

“Yes. You should have.”

“I will from now on.”

“No. You won’t. Because I want her gone, Hosea. I don’t care about the contract. I want her off your show.”

He was careful not to push her away as he sat up and turned on the light. Looked into her eyes, clearly now. “Jasmine, not only can I not do that, but there’s no reason—”

“There is.” Her voice rose a bit. “She tricked you, Hosea. Was there even a meeting?”

He nodded slowly, hating that he had to explain. Knowing that he needed to be patient. “We met with Joe Marshall all day.”

“Still, it was some kind of ploy. She’s crazy. She’s after you and will do anything she has to.”

He shook his head, trying not to remember the kiss. “It wasn’t Natasia. Dr. Marshall apologized for the mix-up. Someone on his staff messed up.”

“With the help of Natasia.” Jasmine stood and folded her arms. Hosea’s glance followed the hemline of her nightie as it rose. He swallowed, remembering just how much he loved his wife.

She said, “I don’t care what you say, I know I’m right. We can’t trust her.”

He stood and faced her. “You don’t have to trust her. Trust me.” He kissed her forehead and then turned toward the bedroom.

“Where’re you going?”

“To take a shower.” He hoped she wouldn’t ask him why he’d do such a thing when showering at night had never been his habit.

She said, “We’re not finished.”

The command in her tone made him face her again. “We don’t need to talk about this anymore. Just trust me.”

He turned away and then prayed inside that what he’d just told his wife was the truth.

FORTY-THREE

“B
RIAN
?”

This was supposed to be his sanctuary. He had told Alexis that he had something to do at the clinic this morning. And it had cut his heart when she didn’t even question him. Didn’t even ask what kind of work he had to do on a Sunday morning.

All she did was shrug and say, “Guess you’re not going to church.” Then she’d walked out of their apartment without looking back. Left him alone as if she didn’t care what he did. As if she knew their days together were numbered.

His marriage was slipping away. Almost a week had passed and he still hadn’t told her all that she wanted to know. What was worse was that she’d stopped asking. Like she’d given up.

“Brian.” Jefferson called him again. “What are you doing here sitting in the dark?” He clicked on the light, making Brian shield his eyes from the brightness. “Man,” Jefferson slipped into a chair across from him, “you look bad, B.”

Brian glanced down at the wrinkled shirt he wore. He guessed he did look bad compared to his friend, who was donned in his Sunday best.

“What are you doing here?” Brian asked, tossing the half-eaten candy bar he held onto his desk.

“I came to pick up some files, but it looks like I’ll be picking up a friend instead.”

“I needed someplace to go, to think.” He paused. “My marriage is over.”

Jefferson fell back against the chair. “What? I thought everything was working out.”

“It was. We’ve been trying, but…” He closed his eyes as he remembered the conversation he had tried so hard to forget. Jasmine telling him the truth. “I just found out something that will end my marriage for sure.”

“Wait a minute, your marriage
isn’t
over?”

“Not yet.”

“Man,” Jefferson’s shoulders relaxed, “you and Alexis will make it. I’m sure of that.”

Brian shook his head. “You don’t know what I know.”

“So tell me.”

This was supposed to be a secret that wasn’t to be shared with another soul. But if anyone could help him, it was Jefferson. His friend had been (almost) in the same place he was now.

“I talked to Jasmine.”

Jefferson’s eyes widened. “B, don’t tell me—”

He held up his hands. “Not like that. I’ve been delivered from being unfaithful.” He took a breath. “But I only told you part of the story.”

“Okay,” Jefferson said slowly.

“Jasmine had a baby.”

Nothing more needed to be said between two men who were three-decade-long friends. “Yours,” he said, for confirmation only.

Brian simply nodded.

“Man! How did that happen? I mean—”

“Please, no lectures.” Brian held up his hand. “I can’t handle it over the beating I’ve given myself.”

Jefferson sat, as if thoughts were turning over in his mind. “Are you sure it’s yours?”

“That’s what Jasmine said.”

Jefferson waved his hand in the air. “I know you’re not taking her word. If you think it could be yours, you need to have a test.”

Brian didn’t bother to explain that this wasn’t about trusting Jasmine. It was about what she’d said. Deception was more her style, but she’d already told her husband that he was the father. She would have never admitted that—unless it was the truth.

“At least I understand why you’re sitting here in the dark,” Jefferson said. “Wow, B, this is big. So, how are you planning on telling Alexis?”

“I’m not.”

“Whoa! Brian, man, don’t try to hide this. It’ll never stay a secret.”

“It will if you don’t say anything.” he paused and wondered if Jefferson would be able to keep this from his wife. “I’m telling you, man. You can’t tell Kyla,” his voice rose.

Jefferson held up his hands. “I don’t like it, but I’m not gonna give you up. Think about it, though, ’cause what’s done in the dark—”

“If you’re careless will come to light.”

“That’s not the way it goes.”

“That’s the way it has to go for me.”

Jefferson shook his head. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Can you make this go away?”

“I can make the secret go away and help you tell the truth. That’s all I know.” When Brian said nothing, Jefferson added, “But if you’re not gonna come clean, there’s not much I can do. Except pray.” After a moment, he walked from the office.

Brian knew that Jefferson didn’t believe he could keep this news from Alexis, but he already had a plan. First, he would never tell anyone else. Next, he would come up with something to tell Alexis. A lie that she would believe was the secret he’d been hiding.

He stood, turned off the light. Some things were just better done in the dark.

FORTY-FOUR

A
LEXIS WAS BONE TIRED OF
being stuck.

It wasn’t all the weeks of this drama that exhausted her. It was Brian—his deceit and his lies and…whatever. She had no idea what to call it, because she had no idea what was going on.

She was through.

She lifted the last box and carried it into her closet, stacking it on top of the others. Then, taking her PDA she scrolled to Tasks and opened the document she’d created: “Things to do for the Divorce.” She scanned the items, and noticed the number. Seven tasks. Seven. God’s number of completion.

When she heard Brian’s key in the front lock, she turned off her PDA, then closed her closet door. It was amazing to her that Brian hadn’t noticed the small changes in their condominium. She couldn’t really blame him—it wasn’t like she was packing furniture or appliances. It was just personal things: family photos, her elephant collection, and of course, her clothes.

“Hey, you.”

She looked over her shoulder. Then chuckled, although there wasn’t a thing funny. There he stood. Hands filled again. With a bundle of roses. She definitely needed to move out, because Brian’s secret was going to drive him straight into bankruptcy with the way he was buying flowers. He needed to save his money. For divorce court.

“These are for you,” he said, his voice flat. He didn’t even hand her the bunch. As if he was as bored as she was with these floral gifts, he just laid them on the bed. “How was your day?”

She wondered if he sensed something, knew that his wife was ready to leave him here, alone with all of his lies. Wondered if that was why he was talking to her like they were normal, when they both knew they were not.

“I didn’t do much. After church, just came home.” She sat on the bed. “Just trying to get things together.”

He nodded as if he understood. “That’s what I’ve been doing.” They sat shoulder-to-shoulder, silent for a few seconds. “I told you that I had to take care of something at the clinic, but I didn’t.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“I did go to the office.”

“That surprises me.”

“Why?”

“I stopped believing anything you said a while ago.”

He flinched; the sting of her words hurt. “That makes me sad.”

“Me too. But I feel like you’re lying every time you open your mouth.”

“What has to happen for you to believe in me again?”

She wanted to tell him that never, ever would she believe in or trust in or listen to him again. And in a few days, she’d be able to add never living with him to that list. But instead, she said what she’d been begging for weeks, “Tell me what you’re hiding.”

Slowly, he nodded. As if he was now prepared to tell nothing but the truth. He took her hand. “I’m going to tell you everything.”

He’d barely spoken his last word before she began to shake. It could have been seconds or minutes that passed. To both of them, it felt like painful hours. “When it comes to what was going on with me, with my addiction, I haven’t lied to you, Alex. But, you’re right, I haven’t told you everything.”

“Omission is lying, Brian.”

He nodded. “It’s taken me time to admit it, but I know I have to be honest in every way. But first, I want you to know why I’ve been keeping this from you.” He stroked her hands. “Every time I look at you, I see what I’ve done.”

“It’s the disease, right?” she asked, as if she was still trying to believe in that theory.

“It really is a sickness, but I hope you can see that I’m handling it. I’m trying to get well, be healed, get delivered…whatever you want to call it. I’m over it.”

“It seems…you are.”

“But you’re right; there are other things. I wanted to protect you, but I see my holding back isn’t good either.”

Together, they took a deep breath.

“You asked if I’d ever been with anyone you knew…”

Already she was crying inside.

“It’s not someone you know well, not someone who’s a friend.”

She snatched her hands away from him. “Who is it?” Her imagination spun into overdrive. Was it someone she worked with? Or one of her sorority sisters? Or someone she hugged in church every Sunday?

“It was Tonya.”

She frowned. Searched her mind for someone she knew by that name.

“Tonya Brady.”

There was nothing in her memory bank.

He said, “The receptionist in Gordon’s office.”

“Our accountant?”

He nodded.

Alexis had to think hard to remember the mousy woman with mud brown hair. She frowned. Was that possible? Was she one of the women her husband had bedded in his addiction?

This really is a disease.

Tonya didn’t look anything like the exotic women who traipsed through her dreams. “I can’t believe…Tonya?” Alexis asked, wanting to be sure Brian was truly confessing to being with this woman.

He nodded. “You asked if there was anyone you knew, and you knew Tonya.”

Alexis shifted on the bed, confused by her own emotions—upset a bit, at her own relief. “So, she’s the secret? She’s what you were afraid to tell me?”

He swallowed hard. Nodded slowly.

She sat silently, her shoulder touching his. She was trying to feel it. The mountain that had stood between them. But it seemed to be gone.

She pondered the revelation. Tonya. A white woman. A mousy white woman. A woman with small eyes and huge teeth. A woman that not many—men or women—would notice.

“From this point on, Alexis,” he said, breaking through her thoughts, “no more secrets.” He waited a moment, and then moved slowly. As if he wasn’t sure if he could touch her. But when she didn’t move away, he held her.

Inside his arms, Alexis closed her eyes. Finally, the truth. At least, it felt like the truth—kind of. The mountain was definitely gone and she felt some relief. This had to be the truth, because what else could there possibly be?

But still, there was something, something…

She nudged that thought aside. She was tired of being stuck. Either she was going to leave or stay. Believe Brian or not.

She chose to believe him. And it was all because of Tonya.

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