Page 75 of Lyric Squared

“Real shit, how would you feel right now if when you walked in, I was entertaining someone I was fucking with for the last time? Hmm? How’d you feel if you walked in here tonight andthere was a woman at the table having dinner with me for the last time? On the same table I’ve fucked you on. Walking across the same floor your knees were on as you sucked the nut from my dick.

“Having drinks from the same bar that you’ve rearranged and put your own spin to? Eating from the same dishes you’ve washed, rearranged, and plated food you’ve cooked for us on? Hmmm? How would that make you feel? Me giving another woman access to territory you’ve marked for… the last time?”

“Awful,” she admitted.

We both headed for the dining room.

“You feel me? Ain’t no fucking last time, Lyric. Let that nigga down on the curb or at the fucking gas station for all I care. At your house, smiling in your face, and jeopardizing your safety… that ain’t it. Not everyone can brush that shit off their shoulders like that. We both know this shit.”

“I know,” she replied, sitting my plate on the table in front of me. “I just wanted to tell him face-to-face why I’ve chosen to end things with us so swiftly. I feel awful for even agreeing to be with him and then turning around and choosing not to be.”

“Shit happens, Lyric.”

“I know, it’s just that… You wouldn’t understand.”

“And, I will never try, either. But what I need for you to understand is that when I’m in the picture, I’m not dealing with another nigga. If that’s what type of time you’re on, this ain’t going to work.”

“It’s not what I’m on, Keanu.”

“Then, make me a fucking believer. Eight. Eight o’clock tomorrow our plane leaves the hangar. It was supposed to be the surprise I shared with you tonight but fuck it. Do whatever you need to do to prepare for a weekend of sexless intimacy. That includes doing your due diligence and letting that nigga knowwhat time it is. Whether you’re there at eight or not, it’s wheels up. I’ll send you the information by noon.”

“Where to?”

“Away,” I answered, stuffing my mouth with the moist chicken that was on my plate.

Lyric took the hint, not asking another question because she knew there wouldn’t be an answer for it. Together, we shared silence as we polished our plates. When we finished eating, I helped Lyric shut down the kitchen and then headed to bed while she showered. The comfort she flooded my home with was as close to insanity as it got. If she’d just act right, we could be on the same shit forever.

Once Lyric was out of the tub, I watched as she slathered lotions and oils onto her skin one inch at a time. She took so much time to care for herself that I knew she’d be the perfect mother. Because I knew it was probably what she wanted most, I couldn’t wait to give her a crib full of minis that looked, acted, and dressed just like her spoiled ass.

After she’d finished her nightly routine, she made sure the lights were out throughout the master suite. She climbed into bed with her back toward me. Feeling as if she was too far away, I pulled her closer until her body touched mine. I cupped her chin with my free hand and pulled her face in my direction.

“You better not cry, either,” I warned before kissing her lips and then turning her face back around.

As soon as I let her go and wrapped my arms around her waist, the sniffles began. Lyric was a bonafide crybaby, but she was my crybaby. She hated chastising, and I hated feeling like I was always chastising her, but there was so much shit we had to work through and sweet talk wouldn’t cut it.

TEN

I checkedmy phone for the tenth time as I sat in the overly comfortable seat on the left side of the plane. It was the spot that allowed me to see the movement beyond the space I occupied. From where I sat, there was a view of the small set of stairs that were still extended, waiting for my guest. My leg bounced on the floor as I waited impatiently for her to climb them.

7:56p, my phone read.

No sign of Lyric. Not one.

I opened our text thread again, going back to the second message I’d ever sent her from my new phone. The first was simply the flight details and hangar number so that she wasn’t confused and stuck trying to find me when she made it.

Eight, the message said, reminding her of the time that I was expecting her. Just as she’d neglected to reply to the flight details, she’d neglected to reply to the last message. However, she’d read it. According to the read receipt, she’d seen the message at5:34p.

Worry lines creased my forehead as I hovered over the button that would initiate a call between the two of us. My intentions weren’t to seem desperate, but in a sense I was. Though I needed the vacation to unwind after six months in a cell, it wouldn’t be a successful one without her. Now that she was in my system, spending time out of the country without her was something I wasn’t quite interested in. Physically, I’d be there but mentally, I’d be at a faraway place.

Where are you, Lyric?I thought, staring at her contact. The black heart on the screen was tempting. I watched as the time went from7:56pto7:57p. Then,7:58p. At7:59p, I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving without her and finally gave the call icon a push.

The familiar sound of an iPhone ringing erupted in the silence, and when I looked up, I found Lyric looking down at me. Her eyes fell to my phone and then rose again to meet my eyes. She didn’t understand the magnitude of her presence, and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to explain it.

“Hi,” she greeted me with a smile and tearful orbs.

“Hi,” I returned, finally resting the worry lines of my face.

Lyric chose the seat across from me as her own. She lowered into the seat with her eyes still on me. Leaning forward, I swiped away the tears that had yet to fall.