Page 39 of Love Delayed
Rush was always on some play-to-pay madness. He knew I was on a mission to secure a large bag, so why couldn’t he cover me instead of making shit more difficult?
I had three orders and plenty of foot traffic that day at work. No matter my horrible background, I was a damn good seamstress. Sure, I did well for myself, but I still couldn’t wait for my mission to pay off. Marcus was so damn soft and had no backbone––the perfect target. I would spend the next handful of years taking all I wanted from him, then find a way to walk away with a nice chunk of change. Initially, my mission included Rush. However, the more I got to know Marcus, the more I realized he was someone I could easily persuade without anyone’s assistance. My goal was to convince Marcus to move from Chicago to Vegas––away from Rush, Marcus’s parents, and now Zamora. Zamora became my new challenge because no matter how much Marcus denied it, I knew she still held a place in his heart. I knew because of how he looked at her, even when he thought his gaze was innocent. The way he rolled his eyes while tasting her food was something he had never done when I cooked for him. And whenever he was around that woman, he seemed to be overly accommodating in my opinion. I knew when he hurried off at the end of our engagement party, which ended a little after 11:00 p.m., and didn’t come to my place until after 2:00 a.m. that the bitch could be a problem. So, I decided to play it smart and be cordial with her. No way would I let her ruin things for me. That was not going to happen.
After closing for the evening, I went home to bathe, dress, and head to Rush’s place. I left my engagement ring, designer bag, and car at home this time. Sporting a warm-up suit with a backpack slung over my shoulder, I hopped in an Uber and was on my way.
“Hey, baby, what’s up?” Rush said with a crooked smile as I walked through the front door of his tattoo shop. “Chill for me. This art is gonna be at least another hour,” he informed me.
After giving him a head nod, I walked over to give him some tongue. When I pulled away, he swatted my ass with a stinging slap, but I took it. As soon as I went into the other room, I went straight for the bar to fix myself a drink. This time, it wasn’t the usual entourage lounging around. I was thankful because none of the new faces were smokers, which meant I wouldn’t be leaving there smelling like a mixture of Black & Milds and marijuana. While waiting for Rush to finish, I entertained myself with thoughts of how I planned to spend Marcus’s money once I got my hands on it. By my third or fourth drink, I was up dancing by myself to the music that filled the shop. Everyone had left except for the chick waiting for Rush to finish tattooing her man.
“You want a drink, girlfriend?” I slurred.
“No thanks. I’m good,” she replied.
“Well, alright, Miss Thang. Sit here sober while waiting for yo’ man, but the dick is better when you are feeling niiiiiiiccccce,” I dragged out.
“Wait. Don’t I know you? Aren’t you engaged to Marcus?” she asked.
My heart felt like it stopped.
“I am, but how in the fuck do you think you know me?” I shot back with attitude.
“I’m DeSoto’s wife. DeSoto and Marcus are first cousins. I remember you from the engagement party. DeSoto is getting the final touch-ups on his tattoo. What are you here for? A tat or dick?” she boldly asked.
“For a tat, of course. Came to get my fiancé’s name on my tit,” I lied.
“Oh, really? Guess I’ll pretend I didn’t see you tongue the tattoo artist down before you bounced in here without a ring. Yeah, I got you, sis,” she said, then pulled out her phone from her purse.
I didn’t give that bitch a chance to take a picture of me for evidence. I quickly got the fuck up out of there and made my exit through the front door, ignoring Rush as he called out my name. After running two blocks away, I requested an Uber and texted Rush to let him know why I left so suddenly.
Me:That chick in the backroom recognized me. You’re tatting her man, who happens to be a relative of Marcus. She knows I’m Marcus’s fiancée. I told her I was there to get a tat of Marcus’s name on my tit. Fix it, Rush. Please, I’m begging you. We can’t fuck this up!
A short while later, he texted me and assured me there was nothing to sweat. The question was, could I trust he would handle it?
By the time I made it home, Rush still hadn’t called me back. I was on edge while waiting for an update regarding the situation. Finally, he texted and told me to come back, adding he had the money. I was drunk and too comfortable to go back, though. So, I gave him the okay to come to my place. Risky, I know, but this was a rare thing. Seldom did he come to my home. After the day I’d had, I needed every inch of him inside of me. Not only that, but I was ready to ride his face like there was no tomorrow. I needed a night of lovemaking that I was accustomed to receiving, not the mediocre sex that Marcus called himself putting down in the bedroom. Besides, I needed the money so I could pay my fake parents to keep their asses quiet.
I got off the sofa and went to the garage to pull out my vehicle so Rush could park there. Once he pulled in, I parked in my driveway, closed the garage door, and met him inside. We started in the kitchen, and by the time we made it to the bedroom, I had already climaxed two times. The sex that night was noteworthy, and after releasing inside my mouth, he sent me twelve hundred dollars via Zelle. After going to the bathroom to spit out his seeds and brush my teeth, I climbed into bed next to him and slept until my alarm woke us.
After consuming a hearty breakfast I had delivered from a nearby diner, we devoured each other once more, then showered and dressed to start our day. I left out my front door, locking it behind me, while Rush exited through the door that led to the garage. While backing out of my driveway and onto the street, I hit the switch to raise the garage door and waited for him to vacate my garage before hitting the button to close it behind him. He parked in the driveway, got out, and came over to my window. I let the window down, and he leaned in, kissed my lips, and said goodbye. I watched him get back into his SUV. Then I drove off with a final wave and a smile, knowing today would be a good day. Not only did I now have the money to pay my “parents” and get them off my back, but after checking my bank account, all the checks I had been waiting on, finally cleared.Cha-ching!Life was good as fuck!
Chapter Twenty
Marcus
The way the conversation between Zamora and me ended, left me feeling a little somber. So, I drove to Eliana’s, hoping to lift my spirits by being in her presence, but she wasn’t there. After waiting a little while for her, I decided just to head home. What I really wanted to do was head back to the hotel and hang out with Zamora, but I knew that wasn’t a great idea, especially considering I was now an engaged man. I often wondered what could’ve been if I hadn’t been so stubborn.Fuck!
She didn’t want to break up. Hell, neither did I, but I let my selfish pride get in the way. Now, I was locked in with a woman who did not compare to Zamora or what we once shared. I needed to find the time to sit and have a talk with Zamora. It might sound crazy to say after all these years, but I needed closure––something to help me ease the guilt I felt for still loving her even though I had proposed to another woman. How was any of this fair to Eliana? She didn’t deserve a man who only loved her with half his heart. I needed to get myself all the way together before I ended up making the second biggest mistake of my life. The first big mistake was letting Zamora get away.
I needed to be upfront and honest with Eliana. I didn’t want things to be complicated, but I didn’t want to be fake with her either. This was weighing on me heavily. It was time for me to search my heart for what I wanted for my future because I didn’t want to fuck up again. Admitting all these truths to myself made me feel horrible inside. I didn’t want to hurt anyone but knew I’d break Eliana’s heart with my truth.
I called and texted Eliana again since I hadn’t heard from her since seeing her earlier at the hotel, but by the time she called me back, I was already in bed and too tired to drive back to her place. I assured her I would see her the next day. I told myself I would go to Eliana’s the next morning before she started her day. I wanted to tell her what I was thinking face-to-face and let her know I needed a little space. In my opinion, giving someone that type of news over the phone or via text was heartless, and that wasn’t me. Therefore, I’d get up early and go by her place before going to my shop, where I hadn’t been in weeks because business with the hotel had taken up all of my time. I had a little project I had been working on for months that usually helped me clear my mind when my thoughts were heavy, and I was looking forward to getting back to it.
After showering and downing a couple of cognacs on the rocks, I got into bed and lay in the dark, trying to focus on my bride-to-be. I tried to reminisce on our courtship and recall when Eliana gave me butterflies, but strangely, I couldn’t remember. I replayed our love scenes in my mind and realized we hadn’t shared much passion during those moments. Suddenly, I started questioning why I even proposed to her.
“Damn, muthafucka, what is wrong with you?” I said to myself, sitting up in bed.
I met Eliana a little over two years ago. Six weeks ago, I proposed to her. Two weeks later, I ran into Zamora, and today, I was overwhelmed with regret. Just when I thought I had moved on, seeing Zamora set me back a decade. There was no denying it; I was still in love with her.
“Damn!” I shouted and got back under my covers.