What Goes Around, Comes Around

Chapter 28- What Goes Around, Comes Around

Dream as if you'll live forever. Live as if you'll die today.
-James Dean

Mookie

Weeks later.

"If you're not out of the bathroom in ten minutes, Blaze, I swear," I threatened as I stood outside of the door annoyed with him. He was taking forever, and at this rate we would never make it to my babies appointment.

Blaze argued with me saying that he wanted to get dressed by himself, but he's moving like a grandpa. He only has one good leg, so he can't move that fast.

"I'm almost done!"

"I don't understand why I can't come in?" I mumbled, clearly confused. We've been together for over sixteen years and he's never hidden himself from me before, so why now?

I tried the door again and groaned because he had it locked. I checked the time on my watch and smacked my teeth. "Fuck this."

I reached in one of the drawers in our room and grabbed the key before moving to the bathroom door to unlock it.

When I did, he was standing in front of the mirror putting stuff in his hair wearing nothing but jeans and his chain.

"Blaze really? You're not even dressed!" I exclaimed. At the sound of my voice, he quickly turned to face me and snapped.

"Mookie, get out!" I watched him as he hastily grabbed his shirt and tried to throw it over his head. But considering one hand was in a cast, he was struggling.

"Here, let me help," I offered as I moved towards him. When I touched him, he flinched away from me and took a step back.

"Don't touch me, I can do it."

"Stop being ridiculous."

When my hand made contact with the scars on his back, he hissed and jerked his body from me.

"Monique, back the fuck up!"

"Why are you acting like this?" I yelled back. Him roughly pulling on the shirt caused it to rip, pissing him off even further to the point where he threw it off of him completely.

He ignored me as he brushed past me and limped into the walk in closet to find him another shirt.

"You're not supposed to be walking without your crutches," I reminded him, but I knew he didn't care. Because he wasn't in that wheelchair anymore, he thought he didn't have to use his crutches when that wasn't the case. He was putting more pressure on his legs making things worse.

"Baby, can you please just- can you wait in the room for me to get dressed?" he pleaded with a pained look on his face, causing me to frown.

"Are you hiding from me?" I asked, hoping his answer wouldn't be yes, but when he looked away from me and avoided eye contact I knew it was.

"I just need a couple minutes," he muttered before looking through his shirts that were hanging up. I noticed the way he had his body angled so that I couldn't see him, but I wanted him to know that he didn't have to hide himself from me.

Slowly, I made my way to stand behind him before gently hugging him from the back, careful not to hurt him. He tensed immediately and tried to move me away from him but I wasn't letting go.

My head came to the middle of his back and I placed a soft kiss on one of the scars that lay on his skin before me causing him to shudder.. There were maybe twelve marks across his back from where he was hit, but I didn't care about that.

"I don't want you to ever feel like you have to hide yourself from me," I started softly. "I don't care if you had a thousand of these marks going across your whole body, you'd still be my beautifully sculpted, handsome husband. You have to know that."