Tales from the Hood: The E.N.D...part 3

The drink turned into a 48 hour session of playing house. We laid up in his house, watched endless movies, talked, went to dinner only to come back to his house and do more of the same. And of course, the make up sex to which, at one point, I swear he said it was "like f*cking magic or something." (You know I had to toot my own horn right quick.)

The two days felt like two seconds. It was during the second night turning in morning, that I realized we were in trouble. The 20th was looming. I felt myself negotiating the deadline, trying to find some loophole in my iron fisted decision. I listened to him snore loudly-a sound that used to annoy me to no end-and wondered what was going to happen? There was no way we would ever make it as a real couple. We were way too different, had lived such extremely different existences. He was the guy you looked back on and laughed at how wreckless your affections were. He was a chapter in the book, not the book itself.

I rolled over and wrapped myself around him. He wasn't used to this. I'm not a cuddler, but he sleepily (I doubt he was even awake) adjusted to hug me back. I fell back asleep.

We woke up on that last day and decided we had to go back to reality. We had both ignored phone calls and emails, pretended the outside world didn't exist, but there was life to deal with. His house was a mess. We decided to do a crazy clean up, I took the kitchen and living room, he took the dog's area and the bedroom. We made the bed together. I watched him shave the scruff he'd collected over the last two days. I showered and talked to him over the glass door. He asked me questions about my past relationships, about my life growing up. We joked. Played cards, decided what movies we'd watch next. I popped popcorn, he made wings, careful to only Jerk his portion as I hate spicy food.

His phone rang. He turned to me and explained it was his son's mother, that he wouldn't usually answer the phone with me there, but something might be wrong with his son. I told him to go ahead, of course. There was an emergency and she needed him to watch Marcus for a few hours, maybe overnight. She said Marcus had been acting up a bit, needed a good talking to from his dad. Trey said of course, he'd call her when he was on his way.

I sat listening, but not listening. I was losing at our current card game, one I swore he made up, and was trying to recall one of the endless rules. He ended the phone call and asked me if I was okay with his son coming over. I told him I could leave, it was fine with me.

"I didn't say you had to leave though," he said confused.
"Yeah, but I probably should. I don't need to meet your son." And I didn't. I knew our end was coming. I wasn't about to bring a child into the mix. Talk about further complications.

Moments later, his phone rang again. It was his son's mother. She needed to bring him there immediately. She'd drop him off. Trey tried to pursuade her to let him come get Marcus, but obviously he lost the battle. He hung up and said, "Yeah, you probably should go. She's bringing him now and I don't think she'll like you being here." Baby mama drama. I'm out.

I packed up my things and made my way to the door. He hugged and kissed me, told me to call him when I got home. We talked that night, the next day. He missed me already. I couldn't lie. I missed him too. January 20th was just a few days away.

I was in trouble for sure.

To be continued...
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