Formerly titled "dear you"
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32, Tremaine Maverick needed help around his office. Especially after his long time assistant Valerie went on maternity leave weeks ago. Fed up with firing thee sixth replacement sent to him that week, he was runni...
"Its not up for discussion, Tre, I appreciate it really I do," She patted his chest, before moving to grab her phone from the nightstand table. "But it's a no for me,"
"Give me a reason Stevie? C'mon give me one valid reason and I'll drop the subject altogether," Her crossed his arms at his chest.
"Please.... Just let it go, Tremaine, I don't want to wear my natural hair because I don't want to, simple," She shrugged tapping away on her phone screen.
Tremaine kissed his teeth. "I call bullshit, Stevie. You're beautiful, you know you're beautiful, you have beautiful hair, why not show it off? Why not let people see all that pretty ass hair? If it's the maintenance you're worried about? I'll keep you hair appointments lined up, so that's not--"
"Let it go, Tremaine,"
"No.. I'm sorry but I can't, I can't see any reason of why you wouldn't want to wear your natural hair. It's really fuckin' beautiful, Stevie, and it's you look absolutely gorgeous. Again, as you are everyday but--"
Stevie sat on the side of the bed, exhaling a small sigh. She sat her phone face down on the nightstand. Turning to look at Tremaine, he noticed tears gathering in her eyes.
"Because she said it was ugly! Okay!" She blurted out.
"Who... Stevie, who said it was ugly? Because it's fucking cap! Pardon my french, but fuck whoever said that. They a hating ass motherfucker, I tell you that--"
"-- My mother," She stated partly above a whisper. "Since the age of five I've been told that I had bad hair. Growing up my mother would tell me I got my hair from my father's side, it was unmanageable, untamable and ugly --" She shook her head as she turned to smile towards Tremaine.
Immediately, regret sunk in. And he hated to have triggered such a painful memory for her. "Stevie I'm.."
"-- She'd nag and curse me for having coarse hair that continuously broke through combs and required so much time consuming shit! For years she wanted to press it, and perm it, my dad would always tell her no, but she yearned so desperately to straighten it. Why? Apparently that way it would be deemed acceptable and beautiful, that was the way it was supposed to be she'd swear to it. But Cassidy? She was lucky, privileged to have long, straight, hair like our mother,"
Tremaine moved to join her on the side of the bed. Sitting down he reached out to touch her hand. "Stevie your hair is beautiful, baby, forget what she said, you're beautiful like this--"
Pulling away from him. She stood up from the bed. Pacing the floor she anxiously fidgeted with her finger's. "Ya'know--" She laughed lightly. "When I was younger? My mother used to always compare me and Cassidy's looks, from our noses, all they way down to the fucking shape of our toes. Oh.. Listen, one time when I was fifteen, maybe sixteen? Angela looked at me and told me that I would have to work very hard, for everything I get in life, because no one was going to give it to me--" She clapped her hands as she cracked up laughing. Not because it was humourous, only, because laughing was what kept her from breaking down into tears.
She lifted her finger in the air, laughing a bit more quieter. "-- Because no man wants a woman bigger than him, ha, then she proceeded to tell my little sister that she was beautiful like her, her pretty light skin, long hair and pretty eyes like hers. And how any man would be willing to give her a life of luxury. And If I wanted to have a nice life? I'd have to start now losing weight and straightening my hair, and just maybe, some man might want to lay next to me for a few hours," She turned her back to him, as she felt the tears burning to fall now... Ashamed to let him see, instead she focused her attention on the fixture on the wall.
Her voice cracking with heartbreaking feeling's. "I actually have a scrapbook, from when I was younger? It's filled with pictures I'd cut out of magazines of women I thought were perfect, beautiful, tsk, it was called my dream body. I've said for years I was going to toss it out. Just haven't brought myself to do it, so believe me, Tremaine I know that I'm fucking beautiful and I know my hair is beautiful, I know it! I've worked my ass to make myself believe it and remember it everyday of my life! But some days her hurtful, spiteful words play in my head like a broken record and I don't have the energy to fight off the feeling I get, how it makes me nausea to my stomach some days, or when I find it hard to breathe, and I hate to even look in the fucking mirror, or to see my fuckin' hair, but I know that I'm beautiful, I know it, I just wish that little girl in me knew it!" A single tear slide down her cheek.
"Stevie--" He stood from the bed, moving over to where she stood. He touched her shoulders. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"
Turning around he saw the tears staining her cheeks. "C'mere," He moved closer to her bringing her into his gasp. Squeezing his arms around her tightly, she immediately latched onto him.
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"I'm so sorry Stevie," He told her kissing her temple. Before he squeezed her tighter as she sobbed on his shoulder.
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Update ...
I'll try to update again later on. Idk, I had a shitty morning and I'm just not in the mood rn. But I did want to atleast get this out to you guys!
