“Why didn’t you just tell me you wanted somebody else? We could have still been cool. I wouldn’t have stood in your way. Why couldn’t you just break up with me?”
“Cause I’m not with her, I’m with you.”
“We haven’t had sex in 3 months.”
“No way it’s like a couple weeks.”
“I keep track in my planner. I know when we have sex. The last time we had sex was December. Just admit it.” I poked my finger right into his chest. I always kept track of those things just in case our contraception methods failed. I wasn’t going to end up like those girls that had to leave school because they were pregnant.
“Shut up!” he yelled and shoved me to the ground. I fell on my face, causing my tooth to go through my bottom lip as I hit the floor. I tasted the salt of my blood mixed with tears and held on to my mouth with my hands.
“You hit me!” I looked at the blood in my hands and began to cry harder. I got up and ran to the front door, struggling with his lock.
“I’m sorry,” he said running after me. He grabbed me by the shoulder and I shook him off as I got the door unlocked. “Don’t you touch me.” I stumbled down the steps and walked out to the sidewalk. “We’re done. You and that whore can have a happy life together.” I walked to the end of the street and flagged a cab. There was no way I was letting him drive me home.
I sat in the back leaning my head against the green vinyl seats.
“Miss, you okay?”
“I just need a tissue. I fell.”
The driver pushed a napkin through the glass partition.
“You need a ride to the hospital?”
“No, thank you. I just fell and busted my lip.” I gave the driver my address and sat with my head back, my eyes watching the stars through the back seat window.
When I arrived at my apartment, I texted Rhetoric asking him if he was busy the following day.
Nope.
I’m cooking, stop by for a plate.
Wanna watch a movie or something?
I know what that’s code for. I typed, laughing at his suggestion. I knew his play book too well. If I were one of his ‘girls’ I’d never get to see the movie because his tongue would be in my mouth before the opening credits.
You think I can’t control myself? He baited.
Can you? I liked to think that I was more appealing than the women I always saw him with.
I am a man, but I do have restraint. If you cook me something, I’ll be too full to flirt with you.LOL. I laughed at his text and replied that I would see him tomorrow.
Rhetoric showed up just as the sun was setting and I handed him a plate of grilled chicken, collard greens, stewed tomatoes, and baked macaroni and cheese. When I cooked for him it seemed less a chore than when I prepared dinner for Craig.
After dinner we laid back watching Mo’ Better Blues. It was one of my favorite Denzel Washington movies. In the movie Washington plays a jazz trumpeter that is in a relationship with two completely different women, one a sultry singer who seems to use him for her own dreams of stardom and the other a homely but sweet school teacher that truly loves him.
Section 2, Part 2 of “A Rhetorical Question” will be published tomorrow – don’t miss it!
