Love Redeemed, Book 4 (44 page)

“
My businesses are all legal and legit! Before I acquired this financial status, did I peddle?
Yes
. Did the money from those activities put me on the map?
Yes
. Do I have this major drug ring that’s hidden behind my businesses?
No!
Those businesses are up and running—most are even flourishing off my vision, ingenuity, and impeccable leadership…my fucking blood, sweat, and tears! I hustled on the streets and then decided to become a man and achieve the good ole “American Dream.” I’ve worked fucking hard to get where I am and that shit could not be done standing on the corners, pushing fucking crack, hand to fist.
KNOW THAT!
” he roars, rivaling the gusty winds that are now picking up at this hour.

Azmir
takes a breath. We both need one. Things are spiraling emotionally out of control for the both of us. I can’t believe I’ve fallen for the same thing I ran from so many years ago.

After a while, Azmir speaks
again. “The man who has mentored me over the years...he’s even assisted me in getting into that line of work—legally and illegally,” he begins filling in gaps of what I’ve known of his life. “I dated his daughter, who coincidentally is Tara. And breaking up with her just before meeting you had him foolishly believing that our breakup was because of you. That began the dissension in our business and personal relationship.” His stormy chestnuts divert for a minute. It is clear that speaking about this makes him uncomfortable.

“
Yazmine reentered my life, and she was able to shed light on lots of details of my parents’ relationship with Daryl. Funny thing is, I was convinced my mother had been a perpetrator, which of course, was eventually disproved. At that time I panicked and looked into every person I was affiliated with, starting with those new in my life and that caused me to look into your past to see if you were mole.”

Bile r
ises from my stomach, pushes into my esophagus, and eventually exits from my mouth. I feel so ill. Azmir jumps to help me and I jolt back with my hands out telling him to stay away.

“I’
m fine,” I manage with all the strength I have to sound convincing. It works. “Continue,” I demand. He continues when I’m able to raise my body into a full standing position. 

“
Once I came up with just your skeletons after Tahiti, I was relieved. Everything happened so quickly...the traveling for work, my fear of losing you, getting up the nerve to ask you to marry me...it all demanded my attention and simultaneously caused me to protect you from it all...” His words trail off. And my stomach toils. “I never wanted to reveal my former lifestyle, but fucking Lombardi…” He exhales. “I swear, Rayna, I never wanted to hurt you. I only wanted to give you the world you deserve.”

A
nd Azmir really seems sincere in his delivery; so sincere that I could swear that someone has cued the violins. No matter how earnest he comes across, he still hasn’t explained a lot of things. I grow angrier by the second. The more I listen the more I my head spins, and my breathing becomes erratic. I can’t take it anymore. I need him to stop. He needs to stop trying to circuitously coax me into believing all of this is okay. I can’t hold it in any longer.

“St
op…just stop it, Azmir!” I yell at the very top of my lungs. “Just cut the bullshit! You can stand here and cry me a fucking river about your upbringing and experiences that led you to become a scum-of-the-earth drug kingpin, but that still does not justify you thinking you could play God and involve me. You’ve had countless opportunities over the past year to tell me who you were and give me the opportunity to decide if I wanted to intertwine my life with a Teri-fucking-Woods novel!” I move away from him while shaking my head. “How dare you…you arrogant son of a bitch! More than I hate a fucking drug dealer, I detest a liar!  I can’t believe you made me…you made me…you…made me…love you…for nothing,” I cry, my voice beginning to squeak from being overcome with the strongest of emotions.

I tr
y covering my tears with my hands. Abruptly, I don’t like being so emotionally transparent anymore and need to go. Besides, there is no way I can stay in a marriage with this man. I barely know him. I begin walking back towards the truck. I’m done. He is a narcissist and I can’t believe I didn’t know that until this very day.

“Ray
na!” he calls out to me, to no avail. I maintain my stride.

“Ray
na!” he attempts again as his voice competes with the waves of the ocean. I’m awash with emotions. I can’t further process his reasoning.

“
FUUUUUUUCK…RAYNA!
” he cries out in a forceful bellow.

It’
s so powerful that it halts my tracks. I can’t manage to face him, though. For a few seconds I am motionless. My mind is telling my legs to move, but they won’t listen. Per usual, my heart, mind, and body are out of sync concerning this man.

For second
s the ocean sings long and loud. Then I turn to him, wondering where he’s gone. I see him, eyes glazed and shoulders sagged.

“I…have nobody else
—” he begs before his voice gives out.

Azmir
is broken. Crumbling is the placid veneer. And it hits me, he isn’t asking for me to be a front woman or to be an accomplice to his illegal activities. He’s begging me to not desert him in this dark hour. For the first time in my life, I feel something that is far from physical by someone other than Michelle. This is a different emotion, however. It is unconditional, partnership love. 

I immediately fe
el an exclusive connection to another human being like never before. In this moment, all of my feelings for Azmir come flooding in and then some. The realization is so powerful that it overwhelms me. It weakens me. My frozen state doesn’t relent. My body goes cold and then hot. I’m in a trance until I feel Azmir’s arms wrap themselves around my upper torso. With his face buried in my neck, he sobs silently. With each heavy exhale he pushes out, my knees fail. My tears won’t stop falling. We stay in this position for what seems like days.

At some point I’m
eventually able to regain control of my body and stand on my own. When he’s feels he no longer needs to support me, Azmir lets up on his grip and turns me around to face him.

He
peers directly into eyes and murmurs, “I was wrong and I am sorry.”

Our embrace is stapled to this
very spot on the beach where we stand. This formidable man...my loving and capable husband seems so vulnerable and wounded. I want so desperately to reach for him and provide loving arms to console him. To tell him everything will be okay but...I can’t. I can’t live past today. The day I learned he’s lied to me and kept another life from me. It is so close to what my father did to us as his family. He totally became a different man...took on a different life in spite of us. Azmir didn’t just keep troubling information from me, he’s withheld an entire world that he had created from me. I could never trust a man who was capable of such grave deception.

I br
eak our clasp. With tears still streaming uncontrollably from my eyes that are focused on the sand we’re standing on, I whisper, “I’m ready to go now.”

From short glances
up to his pain stricken face, I can see that his eyes are glued to me, trying to find a clue as to what I’m feeling. I guess he’s discovered that I’m over this conversation and there is no need for us to stay here. I hope he won’t press me for any answers about our future. He doesn’t. He grabs my hand and we slowly saunter to the truck.

The ride back to
Cobalt
seems eternal. It gives me lots of time to think, but in that long duration, my heart can’t open to what it once was. He’s lied and therefore is a liar. He’s disappointed me, and is, from here on out, untrustworthy. He, like me for the most part of the ride, stays glued to the view of his window unseeing. When we arrive back at
Cobalt
, I don’t give Azmir or Ray a chance to open my door. I expeditiously, yet calmly exit the truck. But I do I wait for him to approach me.

“
Give me a minute to close up a few things here and I’ll ride home with you,” he murmurs.

No.
“I’m going to the apartment to get a few things. I need time to think this mess through. I’ve heard you out and now need to process it all,” I inform. Azmir immediately looks torn. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting this. 

I continue
, “You hit me with a lot out there, you must admit.” He sighs in agreement. “Now finally give me the time to decide if I want this. Azmir, you know I’ve come a long way with personal and spiritual development since...us. I need time...” My voice gives out on me and my tears return.

He reach
es for me. I back out of his range before walking away. As I peel out of the parking lot, I see him in my rearview mirror, standing in the same spot where I left him. He has one hand on his hip and the other on the back of his neck.

I burst into the apartment and fl
y into the master suite closet. I find two large duffel luggage bags. I go into the drawers and begin throwing essentials in them. I then go into the bathroom, depositing a toothbrush and facial moisturizer, then hair products. I dump everything I can think that I’ll need. Then I go for Azna’s things.

The last thing I grab
is Azna. I have no idea why I’m bringing him, all he’ll remind me of is Azmir. I don’t want any connections to that man. I lower my dear pooch onto the floor. “I can’t take you today, lil guy. Perhaps in a few days,” I promise. The tears flow yet once again as I turn to leave.

I check myself into a hotel. I kn
ow it’s a place that Azmir can easily access me, tracking my card, but I just need time to clear my head. I’m in a great deal of pain and attempting to process it the best way I know how. Alone.

I swear I’m
here but an hour before my phone begins blowing up. It rings and pings of calls and texts. Azmir is in the lead, but my mother, Yazmine, and Chanell are just behind him. Hell, even Kim texts with a prayer. I feel like a bullet has been shot through my soul. Azmir has been so much of my life for over a year, even when I’ve fought against it. His circle has become my circle; my victories are won parallel to his. For Christ’s sake, our once vanishing mothers are now roommates. I set my phone to silent. I need time to think.

For four days, I stay at th
e hotel. I barely go out. I’ve called out of work and canceled all of my weekly appointments via text, taking the cowardly route. I’m too tender to speak to anyone, I don’t need to be influenced either way. I just need quiet. And I’m content until I receive a note under the door to my room. It’s handwritten by Azmir saying he knows where I am and is happy that I’m safe, but if I don’t want him around, I’ll have to at least have to pick up the phone and take calls from someone so they know I’m okay.

So that he knows I’m okay!

That unexpected letter is
what causes me move back to Redondo Beach with Samantha and Yazmine.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure you don’t want more, beloved?” Yazmine asks, taking my bowl.

I shake my head. “No, I’m full,”
I murmur as I tuck my legs beneath me and pull the blanket over my shoulders.

Across from me, my mother watches
curiously. We’re outside in the yard that Yazmine has transformed into a botanical oasis. There are flowers strategically planted all around the small yard. She even has potted ones around the lip of the Jacuzzi that they not making use of. She has flower beds encompassed by stones and even installed a small fountain in the far corner, against the fence.

“It’s very peaceful out here,” I murmur. “You guys have turned this place into a home.”

“I gotta give Yazzy all ‘da credit. She just tell me what to do,” my mother replies.

“So, you guys really hit it off, I see. That’s great,” I say, staring at the water trickling down the quiet fountain
.

“You know, Azmir put that in.”

I glance over to Samantha quizzically.

“Yeah,” she answer
s my silent question. “He came over a couple months ago and help ‘da man put it in. He come ‘round here to check on us a lot. He good like ‘dat.”

Yazmine comes back out with a saucer of pie and hands it to me.

“What’s this?” My mouth begins to salivate at the smell of tan mush.

“Bean pie. Ya’ momma told me how you go coo coo for her
sweet potato pie. I told her you should love my bean pie then. She say bean pie is different from sweat potato. I say not really. I wanna see what you say, beloved,” Yazmine challenges.

By this time
, I’m swallowing my second forkful, going for my third. With a stuffed mouth, I garble out, “Well…you’re both right. This isn’t sweet potato pie; it’s spicier. But I do love it! It sure is delicious.”

They laugh equally. Yazmine slaps my mother’s thigh.
I inhale the pie, fighting myself not to ask for a second serving.

“How are you guys making out with the security detail?” I ask curiously.

They have to be half past crazy with it as I am. John has been doing his usual shadowing of me since I left the hotel. I have a sneaking suspicion that he stood guard outside of my hotel room while I was there. Only this time I don’t mind. Now that I know the type of man I’ve married, I find it a necessary inconvenience.