Page 12 of Lost In London

These kids were stressful and the parents were just as bad or worse.

But before I could relax my mind and drink the tension away, I had to make a dreaded stop by Evergreen Baptist Church. For the last four months, this has been my meeting place on Thursdays outside of coming for Sunday service. As much as I enjoyed being under the stewardship of Bishop, I wasn’t a fan of having to sit in his office for an hour discussing the same shit like this was our first session.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” First Lady Cambridge greeted me as I stepped through the double doors of the church’s office building. “Four years in a row. That’s commendable, Quincey.”

Leaning into her welcoming arms, I hugged her back, and like I knew, my shoulders relaxed and the tension I’d been carrying since this morning eased off me. Aziza Cambridge was a gift. A gift of calm and ease that I’ve grown to respect and love. She was cloaked in lavender and honey. Calm and sweet. “Thank you.”

Stepping back but holding onto my hands, she gave me a warm smile that broke through the frustrations I felt rebuilding as I watched the figure out of my peripheral walk into Bishop’s office. “You’re a good man, Quincey. Regardless of the turmoil that you’re facing, always remember that you’re a gift. A King of royalty that has a lot to offer to the right woman. Remember that.” She squeezed my hand, taking away more of the weight on my shoulders.

“I appreciate you, Aziza. You and Bishop.” Having the Cambridge’s in my life was a blessing I never took for granted.

“Go ahead on in. The sooner you get this squared away the sooner you can continue on your journey.” Her knowing smirk and squeeze of my hands made me smirk. I’m glad someone found this entire situation to be a waste of time like I did.

“Hopefully it ends tonight.” One last squeeze and I was entering her husband’s office taking a seat next to the woman I thought I never wanted to live without.

“Reid.”

“Bishop.” He and I greeted each other respectably with a closed handshake and shoulder bump. Swallowing my pride, I looked to my right and spoke. “Hey.”

Long lashes brushed across her high cheekbones. We’ve been broken up for over a year now and the cadence of my baritone still made her coy. I used to find it sexy as hell watching her blush and become nervous under my gaze. My chest used to expand with pride and my ego grew the size of the largest planet in the galaxy.

Now, it had no effect on me at all.

Placing his glasses on and reaching for his notebook, Bishop leaned back in his chair and began our session. “All right, let’s get started. I’ll pray us in.”

Though my head was bowed and heart open I wasn’t at all touching in agreement with that prayer. I knew the ending for us. I knew there was nothing else God could do or would do because He’d done what was supposed to happen - unyoke me from this woman.

For thirty minutes, I sat and listened to India’s plea for us to get back together. I listened to her speak ill about the way I loved her, further confusing me. I listened to Bishop question every word she said. India and I weren’t a couple seeking marital counseling before making the lifelong vow of marriage.

She and I were done.

Over.

Two and a half years of me pouring everything I had into this woman only to be left hurt, angry, and now confused.

“Quincey, you’ve been quiet. Anything you want to say?”

I had a lot to say. Probably too much.

Elbows resting on my knees and fingers combing through my beard, I turned my head slightly to see India taking her nervousness out on her bottom lip. “I’m having a hard time keeping an open mind. When you and I were together I begged you to go to counseling.” Though Bishop asked me the question, my answer and attention were given to the person who needed to hear my words. “It’s been a year, India. My stance hasn’t changed. We’re done. Let me go.”

Hazel eyes that were once drowning in tears were now dry and angry. “No. We’re not done until we can come to a resolution.”

Where was all this energy when I was on my knees begging her to stay? Begging her to let me teach her how to receive my love?

“Since when have you been a man who gives up so easily?”

Ain’t this some shit.

Unable to continue sitting down next to her I got up and started pacing around Bishop’s office. One hand in my pocket and the other damn near pulling out all of my beard hairs. Frustration had me shaking my head and anger had me laughing. The tips of my fingers tingled from the levels of anger I felt. This had to be a joke because ain’t no way she has the audacity to conjure such foolery and let it come out of her mouth.

I was a lot of things but a man that gave up, nah.

Tension began to settle in the muscles of my shoulders. Bishop and I locked eyes and he knew from my glare that I was holding back my words to avoid hurting her feelings again.

Stepping in before I let my words flow freely, Bishop kept engaging her while I tried to shake the heaviness sitting on my tongue. “Now, India, I get that you want the relationship to be amended but you can’t possibly think that just because you’re ready now that he has to take you back? He gave you two and a half years to decide if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. He intentionally made it known before you two started dating that he wasn’t dating you for sport but courting you for marriage.” Crossing a leg over his knee, he removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What you’re doing is selfish. I’ve told you that from the beginning.”

One thing about Bishop Cambridge is that he’s brutally honest and real. He wasn’t a man to sugarcoat a damn thing. He never picked sides and his wife was more lethal than him. She just sweetly hurt your feelings while also feeding you her famous peach cobbler and banana pudding.

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