Page 164 of Rather: The Therapist

Those weren’t the eyes I remembered. These were colder. Darker. And, soulless.

“Every two years, another two million will be wired to the account of your choosing until the sum has been met. In the event that you are to car– car– carry our namesake, an additional two million dollars per child will be delivered to you in cash on the date of birth as requested by your superiors.”

He fumbled over his words. The cracking of his voice was gutting. The tremors of his chin were paralyzing. He reached behind him and slid a folder from the roof of his car. With flared nostrils, he continued.

“In addition, there is a five million dollar life insurance policy for Kofi Valentine with you serving as the sole beneficiary. If or when children are born, you will no longer be the sole beneficiary. The policy will be split even amongst you and any child who shares his DNA.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He was no longer firmly planted with both feet harboring equal weight. Priest was withering.

“Hm Mm.”

He cleared the trail of emotions his words were leaving behind. His spine straightened and his neck grew slightly longer after a good shake of his head.

He was decomposing before me. The Priest I knew, at least, and it was killing me softly with each movement he managed.

“Should there ever be a delay in the delivery of your funds, I am the person you are to see. If there is ever a matter that should arise during the course of your marriage that is beyond your control, I am the person you are to see. Do you understand the things I’ve just shared with you?”

Underneath my lids caught fire. The salty tears and mascara mix was poisoning my eyes. The damn, lengthy lashes left residue on my cheeks and my cornea with each blink.

“Rather.” He demanded a response.

“Yes,” I choked out.

“M– My business here has concluded.”

His chin dipped near his chest. I lost those eyes in the rounding of his shoulders. The file in his hand was pushed in my direction. Reluctantly, I accepted my life’s plan.

In my hands was proof that Chemistry was always twelve steps ahead of the rest of the world. My father had given my hand in marriage, but Chem had secured my future and the future of any children who were made from the union that had been arranged. They weren’t in my personal plans, but should they ever come, they were covered.

Compensation, baby. If a nigga chooses to do you dirty or waste even a second of your time, make sure you’re well-compensated. They say time isn’t something money can buy, but that’s because they’ve never met a woman who has punished their pockets. Be that woman. Never let them play you if they can’t pay you.

Rules were rules. I didn’t make them. I followed the ones put in place before me. That’s how we’d gotten ourselves into the mess we were in now.

I peered at the brown folder, prolonging my departure. The dark round spot in the center shot a dagger through my heart. I lifted my head, fearful of what was waiting for me.

Priest’s flared nostrils were the result of his emotional despair. So was the lone tear that had fallen.

“I—”

My chin was between his hand, suddenly. And, instead of pulling back and running in the other direction like I should’ve, I moved forward. Our bodies crashed into one another. Our lips collided.

Hungrily, he consumed me. His tongue roamed every inch of my mouth as if it was foreign territory. It wasn’t. I wasn’t. We weren’t. He knew me. He knew my body. He knew my heart. He knew my mind. He knew my soul.

Painfully, Priest tore his lips from mine. Both of us stood unmoving with our chests rising and falling. My tears stained his cheeks. No words were exchanged. Not for a full minute. Just as he gathered himself and turned to leave, something in me died.

“I’m scared,” I shouted, stopping him in his tracks.

With his back turned toward me, he waited for me to continue.

“I’ve never been afraid of anything in my life, but I am deathly afraid of losing you.”

His head shook from one side to the other.

“Say something–”

He faced me. The smirk on his face was contradicting his feelings. His thoughts. His sentiments.

“Tomorrow will be the best day of your life. There’s no need to be afraid. You’re in good hands.”

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