Page 5 of The Heart Of A Real Woman
“Nah, baby. Come on. Just hear me out. Talk to me. Then you can go back home. I’ll leave instead.” I pleaded.
She didn’t budge though. And with her mother still standing in my path, I didn’t know what the fuck to do.
∞∞∞
The next few days had been hell on earth for me. I woke up Saturday morning and moved slow as fuck getting dressed,like every move weighed a hundred pounds. My hands smoothed over my button-up. Crisp and white, fresh from the cleaners. But my eyes kept drifting back to the bed behind me.
The sheets were still rumpled on Mary’s side. I’d told our maid, Isabella, not to touch that shit. The way her side of the bed looked the last time she was in it…I needed to keep it like that. Keep her scent close. It was the only thing that helped me sleep at night. Then my eyes shifted to her side of the closet. All her purses, clothes, and shoes were still there like she’d be walking back in any second. Shit made my chest tight because I wasn’t sure if she ever would.
Frustrated, I slipped on my navy suit jacket, tailored so perfectly it hugged me like skin. Picked up my watch from the dresser, but just held it for a minute, staring at the diamonds flashing under the light. Mary bought it for my birthday last year. Seemed like everything in this fucking house reminded me of what I’d lost. I finally strapped it on my wrist, just as I heard footsteps tearing down the hallway.
“Pops!”
Jr. was standing there in the doorway, suited up in his football gear, helmet under his arm. Ten years old, full of life, eyes damn near a mirror of mine.
“Sup? You ready, lil’ man?” I said, clearing my throat, trying to sound normal even though I was fucked up inside.
“Yeah,” he said, then paused, shifting his helmet from one hand to the other. “When’s Mama coming back home?”
My stomach knotted. “Come here, son,” I told him.
He stepped closer, a serious look on his face. “Is she ever coming back home?”
I rubbed my hand over my jaw, feeling the stubble scraping my palm. “Call her. See what she says.”
“I did. She won’t answer me. She just keeps sayin’ she loves me and not to worry about grown-up stuff.”
I shut my eyes for a moment, then opened them and crouched down to meet his gaze, feeling just as afraid as Mary must have been to tell him the truth…that she wanted a divorce. But it was time to talk. He’d been asking me the same question every day, and each day I prayed she would forgive me and walk back through that door so I wouldn’t have to give him an answer.
“Listen to me, Jr. Sometimes grown folks go through shit. Me and yo’ mama, we love each other. But Pops fucked up, so I think she just needs some space right now. I’ma bring her home, though.” I told him, my voice catching a little.
“When?”
“I ain’t sure exactly when, son. Like I said, she needs space. But I promise you I’ma fix it.”
He blinked fast, nodding, though his eyes were shiny.
“You believe me, right?”
“Yeah. You ain’t never lied to me, Pops,” he said, shrugging. “Just miss her. That’s all.”
“Yeah, me too.” I pulled him close, careful not to crush his pads. “But enough of that. Keep your mind on this game coming up.”
“I ain’t worried. We're gonna win. They got me.”
I chuckled at the lil nigga sounding just like me as I removed my Durag. He was born when I was young, so in a way, we’d grown up together. We had a friendship just as much as I was a father to him.
“I hear you, and I believe you. Go get the rest of ya shit so I can get you to practice.”
“Bet,” he replied, then took off at full speed. My boy was going to be one hell of a wide receiver.
After dropping Jr. off at the field and watching him run drills for a minute, I slid back into the Escalade. Normally, I stayed for Saturday practice, but we had an understanding. Once a month, Pops had to miss for business. If I don’t grind, we don’t eat. Simple as that.
“Docks,” I told my driver, Ocho.
Chapter Three.
Moses
