𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨
﹥━━━━━━━━━━﹤
"Heyyyy, work husband." Yolanda greets me as soon as I walk back into work.
While her spunk and middle-aged good looks would've normally made me crack a smile, not today.
"Hi, Yolanda." I reply, stale.
"Oof," she snarls, "attitude. What's wrong with you?"
Knowing I was probably going to ask like I always do, Yolanda pushes her candy jar towards me. Since trying to quit smoking, I have turned to Skittles mostly. Quitting weed isn't that bad but I realized it's the ritual of smoking and the blunt-to-mouth motion that has me hung up.
"Break wasn't long enough." I grumble, snatching my mail off of her desk.
Her long, curled nails tap the keyboard as she does her job.
"Mm," she replies, not looking up at me. "Tell me about it. Oh, Lydia called for you."
"Who?" I snap, furrowing my eyebrows.
"Mrs.Augustin, she called quite a lot, said call her back."
I roll my eyes hard. "I don't want to talk to anybody. Did you cancel that meeting-"
"Done and done. And before you ask: no, Morgan hasn't called or stopped by."
I hang my head. "Thanks."
Yolanda sighs heavily and puts her chin in the palm of her hand. "That's the thing about you white boys, when you love you love hard - be ready kill yaself over a girl."
"I'll kill someone but it won't be myself." I make clear, walking away.
"Well, when you ready to start dating again, you know where to find me."
"That's workplace harassment, Aunt Yolanda." Calvin comes out of no where, reprimanding his aunt.
He pats me on the back. "What's this about a breakup?" He asks me.
I flail my arms. "No one broke up, your aunt is assuming things."
"He's been moping for a week now, they broke up." She smacks her thick lips.
Calvin shakes his head. "Sorry to hear that, Chris."
I deadpan. "We did not break up."
Calvin throws his hands up in innocence. "Well, what's the new date for the wedding?"
"Your elbows are ashy." I tell him to get off the subject.
Elijah comes in, clowning his older brother, and slaps my hand. He's trailed by Sloane, Andrea, Lucy, Andy, and Nia.
"Does anyone work around here?" I ask, annoyed at the sight of each couple present making it known. Lucy and Andy are publicly touching each other and Sloane and Elijah are just smiling in each other's faces.
"Apparently not." Andrea sasses me as she greets Calvin with a hug.
I pretend to barf.
"Oh, Chris," Sloane simpers, "I heard about the split. I'm sorry."
I suck my teeth, fed up.
"I'm going to my office." I mumble, making my exit.
I'm not even sat behind my desk for five seconds when there's a knock at the door.
If it's another one of these nosy, big-mouthed employees, I swear to God, I'll—
"It's just me," says Nia.
I signal her to come on in and she takes a seat across from me.
For what seems like forever, she just stares at me with this parental glare.
"What, Nia?" I rush her to spit it out, and slouch in my seat.
She shrugs. "You're not yourself."
"Going through a lot."
"Is that an excuse?"
I rub my temples, trying to stay levelheaded. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're always going through something, we all are, does that mean you stop performing at work?"
"What are you trying to say?" I grumble.
She exhales through her wide nose and blinks rapidly. "You've been slipping, Chris. I put a lot out to get you on this team, and you're not really showing anything for it."
"Now I don't work." I scoff, throwing my head back.
Nia shakes her head. "I'm not saying that, it's just that you're missing deadlines, not attending meetings, customers are complaining about your poor attention to detail."
Her list doesn't make me feel good about myself but I have nothing to say about it.
I shrug. "What do you want me to do, I'm trying?"
"Just, try harder."
I nod, jaw clenched.
Nia stands and dusts off her purple blouse. "Don't beat yourself up, I know that since you came back, it's been difficult. The good thing is that you're back. Now what's this about you and Morgan breaking up?"
"Your sister spreading rumors."
Nia laughs. "Then that means you still got a wedding to pay for, so work. Chop-chop."
She humors me on her way out.
"Thanks for meeting me, Vaughn." Tate says, putting his hand on my shoulder.
I just look at his hand until he removes it.
"Why'd you call me out here?" I refer to the country club.
"You gotta perfect that swing, remember?" He makes fun of my game.
I watch him hand me a golf club but don't take it.
He shakes it in my face until I do accept.
"Atta boy." He grins, lighting a cigar.
"I'm not staying out here all day, and I'm not paying you-" Tate cuts me off.
He puts his gloved hand up. "You think I want your money, no? Just a quick game, for old times sake."
I hop on the cart with him and go to the first hole.
Once we're off, Tate adjusts his hat on his head.
"What's been up, brother?" He engages in small talk.
I look up into the sky, wondering where my ball has flown to as the sun is making it hard to see.
"Nice." Ben daps me up for that swing. It's getting better.
Ben's always been the more tolerable of the two imbeciles who serve as Tate's henchmen. Jake is actually a fucking retard, I know that's not PC, but he is slow. Ben is more chill, he may have some missing brain cells but that's just due to never having to think for himself and four years of hard partying at the University of Alabama where he's originally from.
"Here comes the goods, and I don't mean the beer." Jake whispers about the incoming cart girl.
Tate smirks, getting his wallet out in advance.
"Watch this." He remarks, waving down the girl.
She hops off of her cart and struts towards the three thirsty men.
"What can I get you, boys?" She asks through a performative sensual voice.
She's— named Harper— a decent looking mixed girl, curvy with deep dimples and butt-length braids in two pigtails. If the "hair theory" thing isn't working for anyone, her voice, and the bralette/mini skirt combo is getting her tips from all the rich assholes on the course.
Harper gives the guys their beer and keeps a generous tip from Tate.
I watch him slip her a napkin with a phone number on it, and wink.
She smiles, showing off these Lauren London-like dimples and tells us she'll be back around.
"Sure I can't get you anything?" She asks, eyeing me.
Seeing her chew her glossy, small lips, I shake my head. "No, thanks."
"Alright. See you around." She waves with all of her fingers and drives off.
"She's something." Tate whistles.
"The pigtails, she knows what's she doing." He adds on.
"That was the number you gave her, right?" Asks Jake.
Tate nods but gives him a quick look and they stop talking about it. I wonder what number he meant and why he wrote it down instead of using their phones?
Jake clears his throat and downs some more beer.
"Those dimples, are you kidding me?" Ben chimes in on complimenting the girl.
"Who the fuck cares about that, did you see the rack?!" Jake always has to be the loudest and most crude.
"Reminds me of your girl." He says, patting my back.
I stare at him, wondering if I should beat him with this golf club for that, or not.
Tate shakes his head at me.
"I'll let him live." I decide.
Tate laughs, pushing Jake out of his way to get to me.
"How is the princess by the way?" He asks me.
"Fine." Is all I reply.
Tate frowns. "Sure about that?"
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" I bark.
Tate takes a step back, cowering. "My apologies. Let's just play the game."
"I'm out." I say, giving my club to Ben who's been wanting to play but Tate wouldn't let him.
"—Harper can get it, though." I hear Jake mouthing off as I walk away.
"She's pretty for a black chick," Ben comments.
"Say, I don't think Benny's had his first BBW, Tate. What do you say, we let him have her?"
"It's not like I called dibs, sure," says Tate menacingly. "Can be part of his initiation."
Before I leave the course, I find a cart and wait to order a beer.
There are two women on the other side, filling the cooler with ice and beverages.
I can't help but overhear part of their frantic conversation.
"—I can't go back there, I can't! You don't know what they did to me, it's not worth the money!" The skinny brunette cries in her hands.
Harper, the girl from before, consoles her.
"Shh. Hey, look at me, look at me. I won't do it, then. Look, I'm ripping up the number he gave me."
A-hem. I clear my throat to finally get waited on.
"The fuck do you want, sicko?!" She yells at me.
I look at her like she has three heads. "A drink?"
"I'm refusing service, you and your little buddies can get the hell out of here."
"What? The fuck? I don't know what you're talking about, I just want a beer, crazy."
"Harp, I don't think he's with them." The brown-haired girl says quietly.
"Oh he is, I saw him with them earlier."
"No, he's never been there. He's good, just serve him and let's go." The small girl says, folding her boney arms.
"Thank you." I sass, staring at Harper as she shoves a can of Miller Lite at my chest.
"I didn't want this-"
Harper abruptly cuts me off to roll her thick neck and say, "Take it or leave it."
"Woah, whatever they did to you, I'm not apart of it." I swear.
Harper sighs sharply. "Birds of a feather." She tells me before driving off in a hurry.
✕
After a long day, I go home. Although, something doesn't feel right about calling it that. I built this place for Morgan and I to fill with love. Now that we're done, it's just empty and doesn't feel like a home.
The first thing on my mind is food. I take my growling stomach to the kitchen and am met with grilled chicken and a salad.
That's new for Morgan, ever since the breakup last week, she hasn't cooked a single meal.
I wash my hands and get ready to dig in, preparing my plate for this fresh meal. It looks so good, I was craving grilled chicken, too.
How'd she know, I ask myself in my head as I smile through the kitchen. I'll credit it to our (still) great connection.
I hear her footsteps enter the kitchen and get excited.
Maybe today we'll actually talk, I'm hopeful in my head.
"Hey." I greet her neutrally.
"Oh, that was for me, actually..." She says, taking the plate from in front of me at the island.
"I-" I'm speechless.
At least she spoke?
Seeing her try to walk away and keep up this charade, sends me over the edge.
"If you're gonna act like this, why the fuck don't you just kick me out or move out yourself?" I raise my voice.
She turns on the heels of her running sneakers and lets out a sigh. "If that's what you think is best, fine, I will."
I hate how easy this is for her.
I try to read her face but it's cold, she doesn't want me to know how she really feels because she's trying to convince both of us that what she's saying, she believes.
"How did we get here, Morgan?"
"I don't want to have this conversation right now, Chris?"
"You said that last night."
"I meant I don't want to have it ever."
"Why not?"
"Because."
"That's not an answer."
"And I don't need to give you one."
"You don't think I'm owed that?"
"Owed?" She laughs sarcastically. "What do you want, I gave you the ring. I'll leave the house, it's done."
"I don't want you to leave, I built this for you."
"So, you leave." She snaps her neck.
My face turns sour. "I'm not going anywhere."
"So what do you want me to do, Christopher?" She bounces on every word.
I drop my pointed tone and let out a deep breath. "I want you to stop pretending we can stay apart."
She shakes her head. "I can't do this, Chris-"
"You won't even look me in the eyes."
"We both know that you'll just suck me in, I'm tired of being consumed by you."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I have to do this, or at least try."
My voice cracks. "How can you sit here... and insist I get over you?"
She blinks away the tears that I know want to fall from her eyes.
"I want space. I'll move my stuff into the suite and take the dogs out twice a day, if you handle the morning shift, okay?"
When I don't reply, dumbfounded, Morgan pops her lips and swings her hands together.
"You don't have anything to say?" Her voice shakes.
I shake my head no, looking away from her body, disassociating.
"K." She storms off.