‘YOU CUT HIM OFF?’ Fatima asked as she rifled through scraps of silk panties. ‘From everything?’ She shook her head. ‘You’re a better woman than me. Cause with a man like Conner…’ She did a little twerk dance before getting playfully shoved by me.
‘Hot mess,’ I teased. Our menu was sparse. Oral sex for us was like a gateway drug, the appetizer before the meal. So that was off-limits, as well. The sexual chemistry between Conner and I had always been off the charts. We barely came up for air on most days. Over the past two weeks, we’d been acting like two horny virgin teenagers, making out until our lips were chapped and swollen, while dry humping in our clothes. It was torture. But it also forced us to come to terms that although our sex life was insanely hot, our communication outside of the bedroom needed some improvement.
‘So much has happened over the last few weeks. I’ve been forced to face the fact that there are some things in our relationship that just aren’t healthy. I had to do something drastic to try to get Conner’s attention.’ I draped a few bra and panty sets across my arm and moved on to the rack of sports bras. ‘It’s easy to avoid the uncomfortable stuff when you’re boning multiple times a day,’ I said to Fatima in a hushed tone.
‘Damn,’ she drawled. ‘Get it, girl. No, wait. You’re not,’ she deadpanned.
‘Seriously, Fatima, I’m dying here. My hormones are out of control.’
‘How long are you going to hold back the cookie?’
I shrugged. ‘For however it long it takes.’
‘Takes for what?’
I answered her with another faint shrug of my shoulders. Fatima didn’t know the details about Conner’s drinking or his bouts with depression. He hid it well, only showing the outside world exactly what he wanted them to see. A ruthless, in-control business mogul who never showed signs of weakness.
Before cutting him off, on some nights, maybe once or twice a week, Conner would retire to his home office. A couple of hours would go by before he would stumble to our bedroom in a drunken state. Under the haze of lust and inebriation, he would clumsily seek out my body, his hands and mouth roaming greedily. Because I craved him and desperately wanted to connect, I would readily give myself to him. Our sex would be raw, rough, and impersonal, lacking intimacy.
In those moments, Conner would completely detach, seeking his pleasure and ignoring mine. I would give him what he needed, recognizing his need to quiet the noises in his head. While he pistoned inside of me recklessly, I would squeeze my eyes shut, caught in purgatory between pleasure and pain. I would open wide for him –my legs and my heart, silently beckoning him to come back to me. I needed him to come back to me so that I wouldn’t feel used and cheap.
Conner would spill his seed inside of me before rolling over and breaking all physical contact. Once the fog of drunkenness dissipated, he would come back to me, filling in the broken cracks in my heart with the intimacy that I so desperately needed.
I took from Conner what I could, and gave him all that he desired, avoiding the uncomfortable stuff that lay dormant within in. Now with sex off the table, we were forced to deal with our issues and had to find other ways to express ourselves that didn’t include bumping and grinding. Through this new normal, I had to deal with my insecurities and the fact that I was an enabler. I realized that my love and my sex couldn’t save him. It couldn’t save our relationship.
‘Enough about me,’ I said after Fatima and I purchased our lingerie and headed out of the mall.
We approached our cars in the packed parking lot. Fatima leaned against her car, folding her arms across her chest. She gestured to my new car with the lift of her chin. ‘Nice ride, by the way,’ she said, admiring the white Porsche Cayenne Turbo S that Conner gifted me.
‘Thanks.’ I leaned against my car and faced her. ‘So…what’s going on with you and Quentin?’
‘Nothing’s going on.’ I eyed her skeptically. ‘I’m no homewrecker, and I’m no one’s sloppy seconds,’ she said, defensively.
‘I never said you were, cousin.’
‘Well, good. Because I’m not. I’m not even thinking about Quentin. Like, at all.’
‘Okay,’ I said, matter of factly. ‘I ran into Quentin a couple of weeks ago. We ended up having lunch together. He asked about you, you know. You may not be thinking about him, but he sure is thinking about you.’
‘It was a long time ago,’ she reluctantly admitted. ‘It was before he married Amy. It was stupid, and we were young. We both made mistakes and hurt each other too much to ever go back.’ She shook her head out of her reverie. Unlocking her door, she said, ‘I never told you because of Amy. She was your bestie, and I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position.’ She swooped her long goddess locks up with her arm and fanned the back of her neck with her other hand. ‘You can tell Quentin that I’m great. Never better.’ The tight smile on her face proved otherwise.
‘Okay, cousin.’
‘Now give me a hug. It’s hot as fish grease out here, and I can smell the rain coming.’
We embraced before we got in our cars. ‘Love you,’ I said, rolling down my window. ‘Wish me luck.’ I was heading out to meet with Amy. I was anxious and devasted that she ruined our friendship— our sisterhood.
‘How does Conner feel about this meet up between the two of you?’
‘He understands that I have to do this, but he’s concerned. He doesn’t want me getting too upset and emotional, and it affects the babies.’
‘Call me if you need me. Don’t let the bougie fool you. You know I can fuck some shit up if I have to.’ Fatima lowered her sunglasses and pursed her lips. ‘I mean it. I’ll stay close, just in case I have to roll up.’
‘I love you, cousin, but I’ll be fine. A few weeks ago, not so much. But now, I’m finally ready to face her.’
‘Love you, too, cousin. Take care of yourself. I’ll see you next week for some more retail therapy.’ She blew me a kiss before backing out of her parking space. I steadied by breaths and gripped the steering wheel as I drove through town. I was one step closer to putting a final nail in the coffin of my friendship with Amy.
