Page 53 of Rome: The Ballerina

“Thank you. I’m engaged to be married. I’m aware you’re losing your mind, but have you lost your memory too?”

“Shit, I thought you had forgotten that shit your damn self.”

“Well, I haven’t.”

“Boy, it’s been five motherfucking years. Tell that girl to pawn the ring and y’all gone ’bout y’all business.”

“It’s been three. And, no one is rushing. When we’re ready and both have the time, we’ll wed. Until then, mind your business.”

“You are my business.”

“I’m twenty-eight.”

“And, I ain’t got one grandbaby yet.”

“Talking the way you be talking and acting the way you be acting– that’s probably a good thing.”

“Hell you think I’m doing all this for–my grandkids. I’d hate to be an old washed up ass nigga by the time you decide to give me some.”

“Get your husband,” I advised as I pushed off the counter.

I brought my mother in for a hug.

“I’m going to get out of here. I have to shower and count a few Zs before seeing Aliza tonight.”

“Okay, son. Be careful. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I made my way toward the hallway. Before exiting the kitchen, I stopped in front of my father.

“You, too, light-skinned.”

“Boy, fuck you with a decomposing dick.”

Laughing, I put distance between us. From over the years, I’d learned to keep a safe distance because my father would strike at any time.

“I need to see you on that wood tomorrow, old man.”

“You will. Always will.”

I exited my parent’s home, finally ready to feel the warmth of the water from my shower. Aliza’s pussy had left evidence of its presence on my balls, briefs, and brain this morning. I was counting down the minutes until I was back in her guts, digging into her with little remorse. She was a good girl who deserved good dick in the worst of ways.

Darkness surrounded me.The long days and even longer nights had finally caught up to me. My sheets had never felt so inviting, so devouring. They wrapped around my long limbs like a much needed hug and made promises to never let go.

“Fuck.” I groaned.

A yawn moved every muscle in my face. My eyes teared up, stinging as the moment took its precious time passing.

“Shit,” I breathed out.

Incoherent, I patted around the bed to find my cell. Within a second it was in my hand. I blinked back the moisture in my eyes, trying to make sense of the blurriness.

7:48p.

I bolted from the bed.

“Aliza,” I rushed out. “Fuck.”

---