"I do love you, baby," I said, as I eased over to her. I took the coffee mug from her hands and began to massage her shoulders. That made her very uncomfortable.
"Don’t, Devin." She pushed my hand off her.
Avonte wouldn’t tell me no, I thought, and tried to touch her again.
"Don’t! I don’t want you to touch me!" She screamed, and threw the coffee mug against the wall.
"Taye, have you lost your mind?"
"I asked you not to touch me," she said, as she began to cry hysterically.
"Don’t worry. I won’t anymore." I left the dining room area and went to get dressed for work.
The rest of the week was like living alone. Taye was in a trance because of her depression. She and I would pass each other like strangers in our own home. I started staying late at the office so that I didn’t have to go home and see Taye. I started sleeping on the couch, and while I was alone at night, Avonte danced through my mind, and was the only thing that made my days bearable.
There were so many times I thought of calling her. But every time I picked up the phone and began dialing the number, I’d hang up, and never make the call. My mind was twisted with the love I had for my wife, and the lust I had for Avonte.
How could Avonte have me out there like that? Before Avonte, Taye was the only woman that challenged me sexually and mentally. But since I met Avonte, it’s like she tapped into my mind, and programmed me to think only of her. The more Taye pushed me away, the more I knew I had to have Avonte.
"Thank God it’s Friday," I said quietly, as I came out of yet another meeting. It had been a rough week, but I got through it without too much grief and aggravation at the office.
However, on the home front, Taye was slipping deeper and deeper into depression. There were no longer any manic moments, and Dr. Larrieux was considering other therapy alternatives. I was at my wits end, and had begun searching for a new therapist. The entire experience had left me feeling drained.
When I got back to my office, my phone was ringing. "This is Devin James," I said.
"What are you doing?"
"Excuse me," I said, not catching the voice.
"I said what are you doing?"
"Avonte?" I asked, wondering how she got my number, but overjoyed that she had it.
"Yes," Avonte said.
Suddenly I no longer felt drained. I could feel her energy come through the phone, and I fed into it immediately. "How have you been?"
"I’m fine. How come you haven’t called me?"
"I lost your number," I lied quickly.
"Yeah, right. You probably balled up my note and threw it away."
"No, I didn’t. In fact, I was looking at your number one day and was about t
o call you, when one of my colleagues came into my office to discuss a case. I haven’t been able to find it since then," I said, as close to the truth as I could get on short notice.
"So how have you been?" Avonte asked, seemingly satisfied with my answer.
"I’ve been all right."
"That’s good.
"What about you, Avonte? How have you been doing?"
"I’m good today, but the last few days have been a little rough."
"Anything I can do to help?"