Finally Together

Chapter Thirty-Two

I couldn't sleep, hell I couldn't even close my eyes. His right arm laid loosely on the bed next to my chest. I gently picked his hand making sure not to wake him. I sneaked the nasty rubber hand off him and threw it somewhere across the room. I placed soft, tiny kisses all across his wrist that was now covered in dry blood.

Just like that, I was fully immersed in having a relationship, in making him feel better, just in him in general. He looked so young and innocent, so small and fragile. I wanted him to feel better, to actually be better. I wanted to protect him and love him.

It wasn't that simple, however. Just a tiny bit of me felt guilt, as well. I felt like I was cheating on my morals by doing this. This was Chris doing what he usually does: playing me back into his arms. God, I don't know, I don't know anything right now!

I slid carefully out of the bed making sure not to wake Chris. I slipped the blanket over his body before making my way through the door, immediately to the kitchen. I put a kettle of water on the stove and picked out a yummy blueberry and lavender tea packet.

My mug was perfectly hot and I even left some water in the kettle, incase Chris wanted a cup. Not even a minute later, he emerged from the bedroom, rubbing his face.

"I made blueberry tea, there's some if you want," I said quietly, nodding towards the kettle.

He picked his phone up, scrolling and scrolling through his dozens of notifications. I can't believe it never occurred to me how big his artwork and career had gotten.

"Nah, I gotta go um handle this," He replied and shook his phone slightly.

I wanted to ask but I knew it was none of my business. Chris quickly put his shoes on and grabbed his keys. He walked over and started to bend down to my level. Oh my gosh, is he going to kiss me righ- no, just a kiss on the cheek, not the lips.

"Bye, Dijah," He muttered softly before walking towards the door.

"Wait, Chris!" He didn't turn around but he stopped moving.

"Dr. Lewall has as opening tomorrow at 6 pm. Can you make it?"

"I'll be there."

He left my apartment quickly, leaving his lingering smell. It was 8 pm and it was dark out, making me feel a tad bit lonely already. I sat at the window, drinking my tea and watching the world.

Chris

"Christopher, where are you?" Mama asked, with that annoyed tone she always has.

"What do you need, mama?" I don't know why I even asked, it was obvious.

"We need to talk about what happened! Now, come home. I made Lytrell and Kiana leave so we can talk one on one."

"I'm coming, I'm driving." I hung up without a further response.

I walked out of the corridor of Khadijahs building and went to my car. I felt bad, guilty almost, having that phone call. I know what this specific conversation would be, my mother talking shit about Khadijah and telling me she's not the right one while I try to defend her but get shut down. We've been through this many, many times about other girlfriends I've had. Khadijah was different, she didn't deserve this. For once, I wanted Mama to mind her business and stay out of my relationship.

I drove to my condo, thinking of what to say. She wasn't an easy person to say no to or convince that she's wrong. I'm 24 years old though, enough of being scared of my own mother.

"I called you earlier, why weren't you picking up?" Mama asked as soon as I went through the front door.

"I got caught up with something," I replied, being monotone like she was.