“Making you happy was always my number one priority, until I fucked up and found out what it was like not to have you.” I guess I’m going to spill my guts on the streets of the Strip, people weaving in and out of the way, some attempting to walk between us until they take one look at my face, then they’re rethinking that idea.
“There is that.” I find a small café; it’s not too busy, an open mic kind of night, and I guide us to the front entrance, noticing an empty table near the back out of the way of others. “You want a coffee?” My eyes clocked that barely sipped-on drink when I approached the bar at the restaurant. I’d have thought she’d down the drink in a few gulps with the nerves Von and my parents talked about her having.
“Yes, but decaf. I have a date with a certain five-year-old after I clean the house and grocery shop.” In my quest for climbing to the top, that was one of a million things I tried my hardest to get Tyra to concede to—bringing in a cleaning service to give her the time off from doing mundane things, not realizing my wife at the time didn’t mind taking care of the house and running errands. It was her contributing to the family in a way she loved.
“I’m going back to my parents’ tonight. I’ll keep him occupied a bit longer so you can sleep in before doing your thing,” I offer. Tyra’s head cocks to the side, unsure if I’m being honest or not.
“You’re taking a day off of work, on a Saturday?” she questions.
“I am. What would you like? The usual?” I ask.
“Do you know what my usual is?” A question answered with a question.
“Caramel coffee, three creams, two sugars, foam on the top,” I rattle off the brew that’s more a sugary sweet than coffee.
“You remembered.” Tyra doubts everything we’ve ever had together.
“I remember everything, siren.” I hold her chair out, waiting for her to sit until I whisper those words behind her ear, my eyes swooping in on the pebbled flesh that’s left in its wake.
“Mace.”
“Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” I place a kiss where my mouth just whispered, and it may be a dick way to think, but at least some things haven’t changed. What I can do to her body, I’m going to use to my full advantage.
SEVEN
Tyra
The itch topull my phone out of my purse is right at the surface. The only reason I haven’t is because the moment I looked through the small crowd, Mace’s eyes were locked right back on mine. A girl could use a breather and to phone a friend. That doesn’t look like it’s in the cards. An idiot, that’s what I’m being, to even give Mace a chance after all he did and then interrupting dinner, whisking me away. A fool, that’s exactly what I am, one who secretly longs for her ex-husband, though I highly doubt the mystery is one I’ve kept from Mace.
“Here you go.” Mace is back faster than I can get my breathing under control, placing the warm cup of coffee in front of me. The black cup with one sugar he always drinks is set down in front of my own as he takes a seat.
“Thank you. Can we, uh, get to the moral of the story?” I don’t want to come across as a bitch, but this night just keeps getting weirder and weirder.
“You’re welcome. There’s a lot to tell. So, guess I need to start sooner rather than later. It doesn’t matter that I’ve rehearsed this conversation in my head a hundred times.” I’ve never seen Mace nervous. I take that back. There was one other time when the occasion occurred, the night we were in the delivery room. Von was breech, my heart rate kept dropping, and try as I might to have a vaginal delivery, it wasn’t in the cards. Mace put his foot down when the doctor said it was happening, and I balked. He paced while stating, “There’s no reason to put yourself in harm’s way. It doesn’t matter how you have a child. Now isn’t the time to be one with God, risking your life and our child. Have the C-section, siren.” I nodded my head, seeing him worried, nervous, and upset in one fell swoop. I did what my body, my doctor, and my husband asked.
“Starting at the beginning might be your best bet.” I take a sip of my coffee, humming my happiness.
“Christ, some things never change. The first sip of coffee, how you have no problem busting my balls, and the fierce protectiveness you shield over everyone but yourself. I quit my job today at the law firm.” I nearly spit out the sip I was just swallowing when he lays out that last tidbit.
“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”
“I quit my job last week. They asked me to move out of state, to work at the Arizona office.” Mace shakes his head in disgust. “It took losing you, neglecting Von, a hard-as-fuck pill to swallow of all the screwing up I’ve done, and not just in the last eleven months but the months that led up to our divorce. I’m not a good man, a good husband, or a good father. I have a lot of wrongs to right, and I have no reason to ask for forgiveness, but I’m asking regardless.” I stare at the man in front of me, the man I pleaded with to see reason, and it took him this long to see that the law firm was a toxic cesspool.
“Mace, I hate that your job asked that of you, but you leaving the firm doesn’t make this all magically done. It’s not a present you can wrap, put a bow on, and give to me. You hurt me so damn much,” I reply, rapidly blinking my eyes to keep the tears from rolling down my cheek.
“I know actions speak louder than words, so I’ll tell you everything, and then, if you’ll allow me the time of day, I’ll put in the work.” He is being vulnerable. I know this is hard for him; he’s the epitome of alpha male in every walk of life until he allowed those jerks at Jenkins Law Firm to get in his head.
“What else happened?” I ask, knowing there’s a whole lot. Mace has barely swept the surface.
“I sold the house today, put the money I made on the sale into an account in both of our names. The money from the furniture, too, minus a few things I needed for the small month-to-month rental. And then I pulled the trigger on an investment that may backfire.” I’m taken aback, pushing the coffee away because if I take another sip, I’m sure it’s not going to settle in my stomach that’s now feeling queasy.
“Wow, today sure was busy for you. I’m proud of you, Mace. That house is just that—a house. It has a floor, four walls, and a roof. It was never a home; it was a monument. What investment did you make?” When we discussed a payment amount for child support, Mace tried to give me double the amount, but I didn’t want more money; I just wanted him, forever.
“I’m opening my own law firm. Entertainment law and contracts. I was going to make it a one-man show, but a slew of other attorneys caught wind, and you’re now looking at the proud co-owner of Ayala & Thomas Entertainment Law Group.” My hand slides across the small table, taking his, squeezing it gently when really, I want to shout from the rooftop that I’m insanely happy for him. I don’t though.
“Mace, honey, I’m so proud of you.” I swallow past the lump in my throat. This is another moment I’ve missed out on. In another time, it would have been the two of us making this decision together, him telling me his every hope and dream. I’d be lying if I said I weren’t feeling a wee bit left out, along with the other thoughts swirling around in my head. Truthfully, deep down in the calm, more collective part of the right side of my brain, I did what I could, went above and beyond. That damn left side, though, that’s what has me over-thinking, processing, and reprocessing if I gave Mace a fair shot.
“Thanks, siren. It’s still early. Feel up to seeing the office?” How could I ever say no to the man before my eyes? I’m excited and also nervous.