Beauty Beheld, page 2
“When will you realize that Patience has been my girlfriend for over five years, and I love her? She’s not going anywhere. Besides, Fabienne and I have never been anything more than friends. I haven’t even seen or spoken to her since high school.”
“Sure about that?”
It was so low that I had to look back at her to make sure I had heard her right.
Daniel’s head swiveled as he turned to glare at her. “What . . . sure about what, Fabienne?”
“We may not have seen each other in person, but we’ve definitely been talking and FaceTiming each other over the years.”
Daniel’s body stiffened beside me. “Yes, we’ve talked . . . occasionally. Mostly just touching base here and there. What’s your point?”
She frowned slightly. “So, complaining about having nothing in common with your girlfriend and how she has no career goals is ‘mostly just touching base’?”
I could barely hear her purring over the blood pulsing in my ears. But I strained to make out every word. I turned to face Daniel with fiery eyes. “You’ve been discussing me with her? Who the hell is this woman, anyway?”
“See, that’s the thing, sweetheart. We know exactly who Fabienne is and where she comes from. Since birth. She comes from good stock.” Lovelie stuck out her chest.
“Lovey! Stop it this instant,” Emmanuel’s voice boomed throughout the room.
But her words still pierced me to the core. My eyes were trained on my man, even as my hands slowly curled at his mother’s subtle dig at my family. Daniel had warned me that his family—particularly his mother—was old school in their beliefs. Lovelie was very prideful and hypersensitive about how she and her family were perceived. In the past, I’d tried to ignore Lovelie’s opinions on my “lack of ambition and drive” and her unfavorable view of my family history. But on this particular evening, I literally couldn’t stomach it a moment longer.
Daniel’s eyes were locked on mine as we stood stock still. He was stubborn, but I had him beat. I was hellbent on getting answers. I needed the full truth.
“Tell her, Daniel,” Fabienne gently coaxed him.
His jaw stiffened, and he finally broke our gaze to glance at her. “Fabienne, just stop.”
She continued, “Tell her there’s no future for you two. Just let her go.”
Emmanuel stood and gave his wife a long, icy stare. “Well, congratulations. You’ve finally outdone yourself. And I really didn’t think that was possible. Patience, dear, I need you to know I don’t condone any of these antics. But I just can’t sit here for another moment. I’m utterly speechless. Goodnight, all.” He stalked out of the room.
“Stop being so dramatic, sweetheart,” Lovelie called out after him. “I made your favorite—coconut flan!”
Losing an internal battle of pride, I finally lowered my head. Emmanuel’s retreating footfalls stomped up the stairs leading to their master suite a few moments later, but I still couldn’t move.
Daniel went to the coat closet as I remained frozen with my back to everyone. The last thing I wanted to look at was Lovelie’s or Fabienne’s satisfied smirks.
Daniel returned and held out my coat, but I refused to move toward him.
I asked, “What do you have to say about all this?”
“Come on, babe. Let’s have this conversation privately.”
My brow lifted. “So, there is a conversation to have. Why haven’t we had it before now?”
I found Daniel’s bored expression offensive. “Because it’s a long, irrelevant story. Let’s just leave.”
I slid into my coat and snatched my purse from him. “Your long story is unnecessary at this point. What hasn’t been said has spoken loud and clear on your behalf.” I slipped on my shoes and rushed outside, and just as the crisp night air greeted me, I heard Lovelie’s shrill voice through the storm door.
“Well, let’s all carry on with dinner, everyone. Fabienne, have the blackberry merlot. I don’t know where that girl gets it, but it’s delicious.”
I turned on my heel, marched back up to Lovelie, and snatched the wine bottle out of her hand so quickly that Princessa had to duck to keep from being knocked upside the head.
“You’ve never thought I was good enough to be with Daniel. But let me tell you this: he’ll never find someone who knows him, loves him, or understands him better. And I personally know that he’ll never forgive you for costing him the best thing that’s ever happened to him,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “You think you know what a power couple is? Well, what good is power when it’s only used to emasculate the men in your life? And, for the record, my name is not that girl, sweetheart, darling, she, or any of the other condescending terms you’ve addressed me by for the past five years. You will remember the name Patience Christine Hampton from now on because it will haunt you in your motherfucking nightmares for the rest of your miserable, delusional life!”
Daniel’s aunt gasped as her hand fluttered toward her gaping mouth.
“Hol . . . hold up, Patience!” Daniel was struggling to lace up his shoes as I whizzed past him.
Toting my reclaimed wine bottle, I stormed back out into the still night air, slamming the door behind me. Just beyond the threshold of their front porch, my heightened nerves finally got the best of me, and I quietly heaved the evening’s meal into a hydrangea bush. I wiped my mouth, then flipped off their security camera with as much dignity as I could muster. Then I half ran, half stumbled down the long, curved driveway. I drained the last half of the wine bottle’s contents and hurled it onto their manicured lawn. Continuing my march down the dark street, I squinted through a blur of cascading tears to request a rideshare.
2
I stayed home for the rest of the weekend, nursing a pounding headache and crushed spirit. Stuffing my face with junk food and punishing myself by watching happy couples in an endless chain of romantic comedy movies were all I had the mental energy to accomplish. They say you spend half of your failed relationship breaking up. As I watched in disdain as people from all walks of life were rewarded with signature Hollywood happily-ever-afters, I replayed a mental loop of my relationship with Daniel. For the life of me, I couldn’t pinpoint where things had gone wrong between us. Despite how hard I’d tried to give him the best of me, yet another one of my relationships had gone bad.
The problem was, I couldn’t figure out how I’d screwed it up this time. For my entire life, my family and even some of my close friends claimed that I was far too emotional, too moody, and just too much. I admit that I hadn’t had the best luck in my previous relationships due to hoarding emotional baggage. But I swear before God, I’d been so careful and had really tried to be on my best behavior with Daniel. I was selfless, attentive, loving, and supportive. I anticipated his needs and consistently satisfied them at the sake of putting my own needs last. I held him up each time his mother’s constant criticizing, ridiculing, and berating behavior beat him into a pulp of a man. I was there to faithfully wipe his tears, speak life back into him, and prop him up to face another day. But I’d be damned if Lovelie hadn’t still won in the end. Because I was willing to be completely done with Daniel if it meant having to put up with his mama for another moment.
My phone buzzed for the twentieth time that day, and I finally decided to just block Daniel’s ass altogether. He was calling, texting, DMing, and sending courier pigeons, but I was in no mood to hear anything he had to say. He had tried to argue his case while I had stood and waited for my ride at the end of his parents’ driveway on Friday night, eager to tell me whatever he felt was necessary in order to change my mind. His pleas fell on deaf ears. We’d been down that road countless times over the years. That wasn’t the first time his mother had humiliated me in front of everyone, but it would be the last.
Normally, his smooth words worked because I didn’t want to punish him for things out of his control. But when he had admitted to lying about talking to Fabienne for the full course of our relationship, something had clicked for me. That omission told me everything I needed to know about him. He was no different than the lying deadbeats I’d dated before him, except he was just a highly educated one. Turned out he had used me to sow his wild oats until he was done with school. Then he’d be ready to drive off into the sunset with his beautiful, soft-spoken bride. How could he have discussed me with her? How did she know all about his hopes, dreams, and fears while I knew nothing of her role in his life? I’d been waiting for his proposal while the idea of marrying me had probably never crossed his mind. One thing was clear—I wouldn’t be Daniel’s fool for another day.
I scrolled through the list of Daniel’s followers on Instagram and quickly found Fabienne’s profile. Then I studied picture after picture of her perfect body in bikinis while eating exotic foods and posing with other A-list-model-fresh-off-a-yacht-photoshoot-looking bitches. She didn’t even use filters because she was just as breathtaking in person. Ugh!
After using the bathroom, I poured a mixing bowl full of cereal. When I passed the decorative mirror hanging in my living room, I frowned, fingering my frizzy curls. I’d cried myself to sleep, barely slept a wink, then woke up with bags and puffy eyelids. Just when I sat down to dig into my Frosted Flakes, my phone buzzed again. The only reason I continued checking it was to see if Pop-Pop, my grandfather, had called. I always took his calls. When I saw it was my mother, I immediately picked up.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Chrissy.” She and Pop-Pop were the only ones who used the nickname from my middle name, Christine. “I got your message. Are you okay?”
“Hey, Mom. No, everything’s gone to shit.”
I could hear her tensely popping gum.
“Say less. I’m on my way.”
About fifteen minutes later, she was ringing my doorbell. I looked through the peephole before letting her in. She strutted inside, looking like the complete opposite of how I felt. Her hair was styled in a big, bronze, curly ’fro weave and shaved on the right side. She wore a black bomber jacket, tight ripped jeans, and five-inch, laced-up, red booties. Her makeup was flawless, per usual. There were only seventeen years between us, so she was more like a big sister to me than a mother.
“Hey, Pooh Bear. These flowers were sitting on the porch. They’re beautiful . . . oh, babe.” She gasped when she took in my puffy eyes, disheveled hair, and rumpled clothing. Her hand shot up to her mouth. “I’ve never seen you like this!”
She pulled me into her arms, and we stood in my foyer for a long time. Silent tears leaked from my eyes, but I didn’t have a single sob left to give.
She tossed the bouquet onto the foyer table. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s sit. I brought gourmet popcorn and wine. I know you’ve probably had your rom-coms going all day.”
We shared a comfortable silence in my living room for over twenty minutes. Love Jones played in the background, and I sat on the floor as she oiled my scalp. Once finished, she turned the movie off just before my favorite scene. “Ready to talk?”
Hell nah, I thought. But I offered a reluctant nod.
“So, y’all are really broken up? What in the world happened?”
I sat on the couch and shared the details I managed to remember from the evening before. All the while, my mom shook her head and took notes on her phone to avoid interrupting me. When I was done, she popped a long series of bubbles with her gum before speaking.
“Okay, so listen. We both know Lovelie’s an insufferable asshole. And even though she had no right to attack you like that in front of everyone, I need you to help me understand how breaking up with Daniel was the right move. Did Bella put you up to that?” She referred to my best friend, whom I’d been trying to reach all day.
“I know you’re team Daniel, Mom. And for good reasons. But I haven’t spoken to Bella about all this yet. She’s busy with the kids’ sports activities all day today,” I replied. “Daniel’s a great guy, and I love him. But I curbed all my dreams to support his for years. I’ve spent countless lonely nights waiting for him to end a shift, finish studying, or wake up from a long nap just to spend a few moments together. I eat alone. I watch TV alone. I am alone. And I’ve never complained about that. But when I found out that he didn’t even appreciate all of my sacrifice—that he’s been trashing me to some random chick for lacking ambition because I’m busy emotionally supporting his ass? That just takes a whole caliber of nerve I’m not willing to excuse.”
Mom nodded. “If that’s true, that’s some wild shit. I agree. You need to get to the bottom of why he’s discussing his concerns about your relationship with anyone other than you. Especially with another woman whom he’s failed to mention altogether! But is your issue with Daniel or with this woman? You mentioned she’s beautiful, smart, and well-educated. But you’re also all of those things! You can’t allow anyone else to make you feel threatened in your own relationship.” She was always trying to make her relationship baggage mine.
I sighed, leaning my head against the couch cushion. “I know that, Mom. I’m just . . . tired of constantly proving my worth to his mother. Then she brings this woman to dinner to intentionally make me feel a way and embarrasses me in front of everyone. What kind of self-worth could I have if I considered staying in that situation?”
“All I’m saying is, if you’re in love with your man, be willing to fight for him. Don’t just throw in the towel at the first sign of trouble.”
“I have been fighting for him, Mom”—I tossed up my hands—“but I’m tired of all these defensive wounds. Healthy relationships don’t involve all of this drama. Five years of this shit has exhausted the hell out of me!” More tears spilled from my eyes.
She pulled my head to her chest. “Okay. Come here, baby. Shhh.”
***
Calls continued from a hospital phone number long after Mom had left. I groaned and pulled my pillow over my head. The sooner Daniel let this go, the sooner I could move on with my life. Why was he calling anyway? He was almost done with his doctorate nursing program, and his arranged bride had returned from God knew where just in time to start their perfect life together. When the voicemail indicator buzzed, I picked up my phone to check the string of ignored messages, all from Daniel.
Message One: Patience, love . . . I don’t understand why you won’t just hear me out. You have to know by now that my mother’s opinion doesn’t represent anyone else’s. We all love and value you. You’ve been my rock, and I don’t know what I would have done without you by my side for these past few years. I love you, Pae. Please just pick up or call me back. I want to hear your voice before I go to bed.
Message Two: Good morning. I know last night was humiliating for you and that you’re sick of my mom and her BS. That was underhanded and malicious, and I get why you’re pulling away. But Pae, I swear to you, none of us knew about it. As far as Fabienne, I have not shared any personal details of our relationship with her. She’s just someone I used to know a long time ago. She checks in from time to time, and yes, you’ve come up, but never in a demeaning way. I’ve told her far more good things about you than bad. I mean . . . I haven’t told her anything bad about you. She pries a lot and just . . . caught me when we were having a bad day. It was just once. Please . . . just call me back and let me explain. Please, Pae.
Message Three: Patience. Did you get the flowers I left on your doorstep? I hope you read the card. I know it can’t begin to explain things, but I’m hoping you’ll at least give me a chance to tell you what happened. I would never do anything to hurt you. I love you too much for that. Please, just let me explain and you’ll understand. Please.
Message Four: Hey. So, I guess you’re flat out not going to call me back. You won’t even hear me out. After all this time together, have I ever given you one reason to doubt my loyalty to you? Have I ever been anything other than respectful, kind, loving, and devoted to you? I mean, what more can I do to make you happy? Sometimes, it feels like I can never satisfy you. Real talk.
Message Five, the most recent one: All right, this will be my last message, then the ball is in your court. I haven’t done anything wrong here. I didn’t invite Fabienne to dinner. She’s a non-issue. I barely acknowledged her when she arrived out of respect for you. I defended you to my mother. Like always, I was by your side when you needed me. And this is how you react? We don’t do this, Patience. You know we barely even fight. Whatever you want, whatever you ask of me, I give to you with no questions asked. I’m always the one who folds, apologizes, gives in . . . I can’t do it this time. If you still choose not to call me back after this, just know that you’ve let my mother win. The decision is yours.
I squeezed my eyelids tight, and tears cascaded down my cheeks. That was where he was wrong. I’d witnessed how Lovelie had molded and manipulated everyone around her: her poor daughter, Daniel, and her husband. Her most recent behavior just proved that despite whatever boundaries I tried to set with her, I’d always fall victim to her ridicule, and there was nothing anyone in that family could do to stop that. So, she may have won the battle, but I clearly dodged my ultimate fear of being another hopeless, lifelong casualty in her war.
I hopped on my exercise bike to see if my girl Jess King could lift my spirits with a virtual thirty-minute R&B cycling class. I was officially single, sexy, and free, and it was time to work on getting summertime fine.
***
The large annex of Holy Messiah Fellowship Church was dark and quiet when I entered. I trudged over to the stage and plugged in my wireless speakers. Reality had hit me hard earlier that day. I’d devoted some of my best years to growing my relationship with Daniel and was left with nothing. It was hard to get out of bed, let alone lead a line-dance class, when my heart had been shattered just days before. But life goes on.
My mature group of line dancers—I was forbidden to refer to them as seniors—would be arriving in fifteen minutes. I held our weekly line-dance class come rain, shine, hail, or snow because canceling on them was not an option. So, I checked my vibe in order to keep up with their excitement for life. They loved on me hard and were always trying to get deep into my business. Although I loved every moment of being with them, I wasn’t open to receiving advice on my love life, or lack thereof, that evening. I could hear them asking if I’d chased away that “fine, sexual-chocolate nurse-man,” and he was the last thing I wanted to think about.
