Page 54 of What She Deserves
“You keep me close when it suits you and push me away when it doesn’t. I feel like I’m a yo-yo with you. Up and down, up and down, over and over again. I’m going crazy and I can’t take it anymore. I can’t takethisanymore.I don’t know who you are!” She took a tremulous breath and blinked rapidly. “It’s over. For good this time. I can’t… I can’t be with you.”
“And I can’t be without you,” he bit out. Those words cost him dearly. He struggled under their weight. “It’s not easy for me to open up myself. I could be mocked or ridiculed or rejected. It’s not easy.”
“Why would I do that to you?”
“I don’t know. I…” His throat closed, and his voice shut off.
“You and your trust issues.” She pointed a white-tipped fingernail at him. “Tell you what, when you figure out what you really want, then go get her. Stop playing these stupid games and giving stupid excuses.”
She dialed a number on her phone, and when the person on the other end picked up, she said, “I’m ready. I’m leaving.” Then she hung up.
“Who the hell was that?” Rashad demanded.
“Tamika and Dana were waiting in the parking lot. Depending on how this conversation went, I told them I would be leaving, and since it went exactly as I expected, they’re coming to help me.”
She rushed around, grabbing clothes and stuffing them into the suitcase. He watched with a mixture of despair and detachment. She was going to leave him. He should do something to stop her, yet he felt incapable of moving or putting forth the simplest effort.
“I have a lot of baggage,” he said by way of explanation. That’s all he could muster. Only his mouth could move.
“Everybody does.” She slammed the suitcase shut and struggled to close it because all her garments had been stuffed in without any respect to order or neatness.
Rashad didn’t help her. He wanted her to fail. The longer she struggled, the longer she stayed in the condo with him.
That moment didn’t last. She eventually sat on the suitcase and snapped the locks closed. Then she hauled it off the bed and dragged it by the wheels into the living room. Rashad followed more slowly and watched her take her other bags out there, too, but he refused to help her.
The doorbell rang, and she rushed to open it. Layla snatched open the door, and her two girlfriends were standing there. Tamika pulled her close, enveloping her in a protective embrace while glaring at Rashad over her friend’s shoulder.
Dana wouldn’t look at him. She went around the other two and picked up one of the bags and grasped the handle of the suitcase. “All of these?” she asked.
Layla brushed tears from her eyes and nodded. Her watery eyes stared at him as she swiped under her nose.
“Layla.” Rashad took a few tentative steps forward.
Tamika grabbed the other two bags in one hand and touched Layla’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”
He read hesitation in Layla’s face. Yes, she was angry. Hurt. But she didn’t want to leave. This was his chance to change her mind, but he didn’t say a word. All he had to do was tell her why he’d changed his name. She was waiting for him to say something—anything—that would make her change her mind. Yet he held his mouth closed. She picked up her Chanel purse from the coffee table, and he watched as she walked out with her friends and shut the door.
Rashad put a hand to his pounding head. She was gone.
He marched over to the door and hit it. Over and over he slammed the heel of both hands against the sturdy oak, sending pain like lightning bolts zigzagging up his arms. When the pain became too much, he stopped and rested his forehead against the door.
“Layla,” he whispered. “Fuck.”
He’d wanted to stop her but couldn’t.
Because she deserved better.
