Page 32 of For the Lover in You
"Yeah right. I find that hard to believe."
I glanced over at her. "Why?"
She turned and faced me. Her eyes were low, and her words slurred.
"R&B music is about love. You get in your feelings when you listen to it. No shade, but I find it hard for a man like you to have any feelings or know about love."
My eyebrow raised.
"What do you mean, a man like me?"
She held her hands up in defense.
"I said no shade. All I'm saying is that a man with your career, money, and looks can have any woman at his disposal. You don't have time for love and feelings when you can buy whatever you want to make you happy, including women."
"I hate to break the news to you, Ms. Mila, but I'm actually a man who wants to experience love. I want the wife, the kids, the dog, and the house with the yard so we can have family cookouts. I want it all." I smiled at her. "It's just that I haven't found the starting point, which is the right woman. Most women only want me because of surface-level shit."
I took a deep breath and looked at her. Her eyes were trained on me, and I could tell she was listening to every word I had said.
"My wife has to be someone who still sees me and loves me for me. If I were to lose all this, she wouldn't be fazed because she loved me not for the money. So yes, I believe in love. One day it'll find me. Until then, I'm going to keep playing my R&B," I shared, tapping her thigh.
Mila sighed. "Well, I love R&B, always have. Shit, I used to love, love, but I don't believe in that shit no more."
Clearly, the wine had now made its way into Mila's thoughts. She was letting loose.
"You letting that nigga stop you from believing in something that's pure?" I asked.
She sucked her teeth. "How could I not? I thought what I had was true and pure love. That shit flopped."
I laughed.
"Nah, your ex-husband is a flop. Every man ain't like that clown-ass nigga."
"Let me guess, you and your boys are rare breeds?" She made air quotes with her hands. "Do you not remember I was in the car with you when you got that phone call?"
"First of all, my boys are good, wholesome men. Vance is a middle school principal. He doesn't have a mean bone in his body. Owen is a hood nigga, but he'll give the people he cares about the shirt off his back. Both are single and can do what and who they want, out of respect, tho'."
"Don't leave yourself out of the mix," she insisted. "Tell me about you."
I shrugged. "What you see is what you get. I'm a single-ass nigga. Eventually, I want to settle down, just haven't found the one to do that with yet."
She sighed. "Take my advice. Make sure you're satisfied with whomever you pick. I thought I was the pick of the litter, but clearly, I wasn't."
I sucked my teeth. "That nigga is a clown. I keep telling you that."
She giggled. "You're speaking as if you know him."
"Shit, I've seen all I needed to see. Any man who ruins his family is a clown in my eyes. Ain't no way I would've left you for that young ass girl. You're a grown woman, and you're fine as hell. Shit, that nigga is dumb as fuck."
I stopped. I didn't realize how much I was spewing until I heard Mila inhale.
"My bad, Mila."
She remained silent, but this time she looked forward.
I tapped her thigh. "Mila, if I offended you, I apologize. I have a tendency to spew shit out in the moment."
"Mr. Houston..."
