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soonwellbefoundfic · 7 years ago

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when you took that ring off...

marlee.

“Marlee, what's wrong with you?” His voice was calm – too calm. “You hear me talk?”! He bellowed when I remained silent.

I didn't want to talk. I didn't even want to be in his presence. I wanted to go home, drink two bottles of wine and forget that this day – hell, this past year even happened.

“Marlee!” He yelled, fed up with being ignored.

“What, nigga?! I don't wanna talk to ya ass. I don't even wanna see ya fucking face..” I snapped, glaring at him through narrowed eyes.

“What you do is so stupid – I not even believe you.” He spoke, ignoring every thing I'd just said.

“Can you please not talk to me?” I hissed.

“I don't even know you anymore.” His tone and the shake of his head pissed me off more than the words he'd uttered.

He didn't have the right to be disappointed in me when he was my biggest disappointment. Everything he'd done to me this past year canceled out even the slightest bit of anger, or disappointment he could harbor towards me.

“Maybe because you spend all your time under another woman.” My words were fire and his flesh – a highly flammable material.

He scoffed. “You bring her up for what? Don't talk about her.”

“You so quick to defend her,” I shook my head in disgust. “And Erin. You fucked her too? That's what she said – that you tried to when you were at her place. I'm not even surprised. Y'all both trash.” My tone expressed that I didn't care but I did. I cared so damn much it hurt to breathe.

Erin saying that shit to me sent my world into a state of darkness and my fist right into her mouth. I'd wanted to send those words back down her lying ass esophagus to sizzle to nothingness in her digestive acids. I'd wanted those words to be the last she ever uttered.

“Now you quiet? You wanted to talk a few minutes ago! Well, let's fucking talk, Larry!”

“I not talk to you like this. You talk stupid for nothing.” He scoffed, gripping the wheel tighter than necessary. “And you look stupid too.” His eyes slit me down the middle.

I seethed as he eyed the cut on my lip, remembering the expensive ring that'd put it there. “You fight, get arrested and fuck you face up – for what?!”

I balled my fist up, needing to expel the anger I was feeling.

“I can't stand ya ass!” I fumed, glaring out of the window at the Brooklyn homes we passed. “I'on even wanna be with you no more.”

“What you said?” He barked though I was sure he'd heard the muffled declaration. “Say for me again.”

Knowing he hated to be ignored I did just that. I fiddled with my nails and silently willed the car to move faster. When my nails grew to be a bore I went back to looking out of the window.

DUMBO. Outside of TriBeCa we'd also looked here. The lofts had been beautiful and new but the lower Manhattan apartment we resided in now had won our hearts.

I scoffed, remembering Larry's statements about moving to Brooklyn when our family grew too large for our TriBeCa loft. That shit ain't ever happening, I thought not knowing which was more unlikely – me having kids or Larry and I having a future.

"Say it!" He bellowed.

His face was crimson, his veins were creating a vine like texture beneath his skin. His nostrils flared and his chest heaved as he watched me – glared at me.

"I don't want to be with you." Mt voice was flat but clear. Crystal.

In a milli-second he was in my space. His frame dwarfed mine even in a seated position. His heat worked to melt my flesh but instead my own heat counteracted it.

My heart stuttered forward as he lowered his face to mine. "That make two of us, ma belle."

"Get the fuck outta my face!" I shoved him away, pissed that he had the audacity to feel how I felt. “Drive this car or let me the fuck out!”

“Bitch,” Larry muttered under his breath, earning a sideways glance from me.

“He cut you off because you're driving like a old lady.”

He instantly cut his eyes at me and frowned even as his gaze was one of amusement. “You wanna drive?”

“Nah.”

“Then shut up.” His smirk added a playful energy to his words.

“Alrighty then, Mabel.” I hummed, casting him a final glance before looking out out the window.

“Who is that is?” His confusion pulled my lips into a smile. His terrible English boggled my mind.

“The old lady your driving reminds me of.” He gasped and then reached for me running his hand over my hair.

“Stop, Larry!” I laughed, as he continued to threaten the sleekness of my ponytail. “You're fucking up my hair!”

It was when my hand met his twists and tugged that he stopped, shooting an alarmed look my way. “I drive! You try to kill us?!”

“Imma kick ya ass when we get out of this car.” I half threatened, smoothing my hair.

He smiled. “You crazy. I like that.”

The throb on the right side of my face was slowly extending upwards towards my head, triggering a nasty headache. The concept alone had me ready to whoop Erin's ass all over again. I was tired and achy but somehow I knew that if I saw her again I'd find the energy to stomp a mudhole in her face.

Having never been in a physical fight my strength surprised me. The fact that even after I was pulled off of Erin I still possessed enough anger to fight ten men too surprised me.

Shock consumed me when after seeing her swollen and bloodied face I felt nothing. I'd expected remorse but all I felt was satisfaction, and rage.

I huffed aloud thinking about it.

“Are you dumb?! Why would you take this way?! It's dumb traffic because of construction.” I hissed as red-hued glow from brake lights clouded my vision.

“If you wasn't so dumb and fight people this traffic would not be a big problem for you.” He shot back, refusing to spare me a glance.

Disgust curled his lips downward and he gripped the wheel tighter as though the sound of my voice alone triggered his anger.

“Fuck you doing all that for?” I snapped, unable to fathom how he could feel a way towards me.

Instead of a response I received muddled french and flared nostrils. And everything I was barely fighting to contain blew the fuck up.

“I didn't fucking ask you to come get me so you can lose the attitude!” He said nothing so I went on. “You wanna sit over there huffing and puffing like I did something to your stupid ass. Fucking loser ass nigga.”

The traffic seemed to thicken further annoying me. All I saw was the red of brake lights and I felt the exact same way. I was seething, and I couldn't quite put my finger on what bothered me the most – Erin or Larry.

“You know, it's crazy that this whole time Erin disliked you. She hated your ass before she even met you – I wanted her to like you so bad, to see what I saw. But now that I think about it her 'not liking' you was probably a facade to confuse me because she more than liked you. Y'all probably been fucking for yearssss.” I laughed manically even as what was left of my heart shattered at the thought.

I glanced at Larry, catching the tick of his jaw and whitening of his knuckles as he gripped the leather bound wheel.

“Who was better? Luzy or Erin?” The question dismantled me and sent Larry's foot heavily onto the brake. My body rocked forward but I recovered quickly.

“Stop talking.” He warned, his voice tight and gritty.

“If I had to guess, I'd say Erin – she's Jamaican and all. Bitch always talking about pelting waist and whining and shit.” I laughed softly – coldly. “Then again the white bitch probably did everything you wanted her to. I bet she sucks a mean dick – I hear they good at that.” My voice cracked and to mask it I chuckled. “They must've both had some bomb ass pussy. Like, out of this world because why else would you throw our shit away.”

“Marlee – please, just stop talking.” His voice was a muted rasp. It crackled like wood in a fiery fire.

“You was so busy fucking with them you dried out.” I raved. “No baby juice left for Marlee!”

“Shut the fuck up!!!” He roared, finally looking at me with venomous eyes.

His glare sizzled my flesh, leaving nothing but bone and connective tissue.

“Fuck you! Don't tell me to shut up! Pussy ass can't take the truth.” I ranted, scrambling internally as I tried to reel myself back in.

I was always so careful with words. I knew and respected their power. I was the silent one during arguments – I never said too much out of fear that I would say the wrong thing.

Words packed so much force. A few recklessly placed together syllables could sever siblingships, friendships, marriages... It was so easy to spit them out and impossible to take the back. Once they left the tongue they couldn't be chewed and distorted. Once they left the mouth, they grew legs and skittered towards the brain of whomever was around to hear them where they lived on forever.

I never wanted my poor choice of words to be the spices that marinated Larry's brain. Most times when we fought I walked away from it, giving myself the time and space to pull my thoughts together. And I didn't speak to him until my words were prim, proper and perfect. I didn't speak to him until I'd argued with him in my head, saying everything I thought I wanted to say. It took me mentally saying the wrong things to figure out what the right things were. That method had worked for as long as we'd been an us but now–

All the wrong things were at the forefront of my brain and on the tip of my tongue. The more I tired to care and reel myself in the more my tongue continued to lash.

I'd always worked to protect Larry's emotions. I knew his vulnerabilities and triggers, usually avoiding them with great caution and care. Now I was doing the opposite, and frankly it scared me.

Why didn't I care?

Why was it so easy to stop caring?

What did this mean for us?

I knew the answers to those questions yet and still I asked them, hoping to be pacified by at least a small part of my brain.

“Marlee, you don't know what is the truth so stop talking.”

He was too calm – too careless. He was supposed to react, to be passionate, to fight for me – and he didn't.

“I wish I never married you.” I seethed, seeing fifty shades of red.

“I wish I never meet you!” He bit back, sinking his teeth into my jugular.

He gave me the fire I so desired and it burned me to a crisp, leaving nothing but resentment.

“I hate you.” My voice was quite – so quiet I hadn't realized I'd spoken until I closed my mouth.

Internally, I battled. Half of me hoped he'd heard me loud and clear while the other half wanted him to never hear those words – from me.

But when his hands dropped limply from the wheel and his bleak eyes centered on me I knew he had. My words had hit him like a missile, destroying him.

He didn't blink or move – he stared, dragging my soul from my trembling body. His desolate glare and lifeless body consumed my lifeforce, making me feel nothing but regret. I hadn't exactly meant it but I wanted him to feel the pain that I felt. Instead, I felt more anguish than I'd ever experienced in my life as a result of hurting him.

My ability to feel remorse for hurting him when he never seemed to feel any when he hurt me injected me with a sensation of rage I'd never experienced before. Fury laced my tongue with ammo and I fought with everything I had to swallow it – even if the poison killed me. But I couldn't.

The sounds of honking horns should've acted as a warning. The fact that the red of brake lights no longer clouded vision should have acted to clear the toxic haze consuming my brain. My love for Larry and the vows that I'd taken should've prohibited such thought to turn to words...

“Maybe I shouldn't've gotten that abortion so I could see the look on you face when the baby came out looking exactly like Pierre–“ His fingers were around my throat before the statement could come to completion.

I gasped out as he slammed my upper body against the passenger side door. His fingers pressed into the flesh of my neck as my hands flailed at his forearms in search of release. My closed fist connecting forcefully with his left eye was the root of my freedom.

I gasped glaring at him before swinging at him again.

“You putting your hands on me now?” My voice cracked as my trembling hands went to my neck, feeling for tenderness that would confirm that my husband had really violated me.

“You know what,” I inhaled a large, ragged breath, trying to replenish my lungs. “This is over. We're over.”

My words meshed with my actions as I removed the ring that not only connected me to my husband but to my mother, tossing it at him. Next was my seat belt and then the door.

The horns that had been muffled by the interior of the car were now loud and clear and it took a mere second for me to realize that they were all aimed at Larry as the car had been stagnant for a while.

“I'm done with you.” I spared him one last glare, hoping it was the last I saw of him.

“I remember this place.” I grinned as we were led by the hostess to plush, neutral toned booth.

“What you remembered?” Larry asked as the hostess whirled around, leaving us with menus that were as posh as the rest of the décor.

“We came here after I found out I was pregnant – the second time.” I spoke, making sure to keep my voice leveled. I wanted to exude ease and confidence but when Larry's eyes softened with caution I realized I'd failed. “I also remember that the orange juice is $9 here...” I rambled on.

“Is so good though.” He smiled, silently promising not to delve into what I'd just spoken of. I was grateful.

“Meh.” I shrugged. “It's aightttt.”

“Marlee, last time we come you ask for a to-go cup and get mad when they say no.” He chuckled.

“That's cause it's $9!”

“Say whatever – I know the truth. I remember.” He teased, tapping his temple.

I waved him off and raised my menu, visually diving in. Though I remembered coming here I didn't remember what I liked from the menu, minus the decadent ass orange juice.

I scoffed at the prices even as my interest peaked at the descriptions. I must've really liked it here if Larry brought me back, I reasoned.

Tired of browsing the hefty selection, I lowered my menu only to find his gaze on me. He smiled and I blushed.

“You like the french toast with the cheesecake and ice cream stuff.” He told me before I could ask.

Using his description, that I was sure was wrong, I glanced down at my menu. “Donut Ever Go There French Toast?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure I don't like the crepes?”

“Yeah, I sure.” He smiled – arrogantly. “You only eat mine.”

“And maman's”

“Mine better. You say this to me but she never know.” He insisted.

I rose a brow. “Are you lying to me because I don't know better?”

“Never.”

“Swear it.”

“I swear to everything.” And to add validity to his words he signed a cross, starting at his forehead and then going down to his chest.

The waitress appeared before he could make it to his left shoulder. Because he was dramatic he completed his cross, not acknowledging her until his hand dropped from his right shoulder.

He placed our orders with a smile and after confirming the weirded out waitress hurriedly made her exit leaving the both of us cackling.

“Heeeey, Mar–“

“Where Erin?”

“She in the office,” He waved his marcel towards the curtained french door. “Damn girl, whats wrong with yo ass?”

Though I adored Ryan, I couldn't be bothered with him or anyone else in this salon today.

With quick, determined steps I headed for the office Erin called her own only to come to a slow stop when the door opened and she stepped out.

“Aight, Dawn you can come from under the dryer now.”

As Dawn muttered her complaints about her the dryer and being under there for too long Erin's eyes found mine. With a solemn expression she knowingly turned back around and went into the office with me following behind her.

I watched silently as she shut the door, leaving Dawn's protests and the chatter of the salon to be muffled.

“Erin,” I started, praying for the ability to stay calm. I needed to stay calm.

“Look, let's not do all the back and forth shit. You did ya nigga dirty and he brought his annoying ass around pressing me so I told him the truth. I ain't mean to but the shit slipped.” She shrugged.

I nearly choked on my own fury. “Slipped?”

Shrug number 2.

“Bitch, are you dumb?!” I nearly laughed. She couldn't be serious.

“No bitch, you're dumb!” She retorted, casually grabbing her water bottle off of her desk and taking a sip.

“Bitch, been feeling sorry for herself for 3 years and ain't done shit about it. All you do is cry about Larry's bum ass and forgive his bullshit. He cheated on you with a whole notha white bitch and ya dumb ass stayed. Fucking bozo.”

She spoke as though she were thinking aloud yet every single word was a dagger aimed at the center of my soul.

My fist clenched and nostrils flared and brows knitted.

This is your best friend, I reminded myself, she's merely talking out the side of her neck. Yet, even as I mentally reasoned with myself I found the distance between up closing, and it was my feet that were bridging the gap.

“Nigga dick is bomb though...” She chuckled, taking another sip of water.

My world froze and I replayed her words in my head, wondering if I'd missed the 'must be' part.

I hadn't.

“Fuck you just say?” I was I front of her.

“Nigga was whining, asking me if I was sure and shit. All that came to a halt when I sat on his dick.”

Her wail as my fist plowed into her mouth was music to my ears. A symphony.

“I feel funny.” I declared as Larry started the car.

“Is maybe because you just eat ice cream and cheesecake for breakfast.” Concern lined his eyes even as he teased.

“Shut up, “ I waved him off, buckling my seat belt. “It's not that – it's just,”

“Whats wrong?”

“You don't feel nervous about this – not even a little?”

“Not really.” He tilted his head. “Why you do?”

“The last time we tried marriage counseling it didn't go too well.” I shrugged feigning casualness.

“I not want to go back then – if I can be honest.” His voice was light as he spoke. “I think it's stupid then and in my head I wasn't mature for that.”

“And now you are?” I asked despite the fact that it had been his suggestion.

“Yes.”

I shrugged and shook my head. “I don't know why I'm nervous – I just feel... funny.”

“I not know either. This not even real appointment.”

“Maybe it's the fact that we have to go in to get a fucking referral that's making me nervous cause that's weird. Ain't that weird?”

“I not really think much of it.”

“I did. Like, why couldn't she just fax over the name and number of the best suited doctor?” I pressed, annoyed that I had nothing solid to blame my finicky nerves on.

“Marlee,” He rubbed at my thigh. “Everything will be good. We good.”

I wanted to believe him but the knots in my stomach wouldn't allow me to.

The car ride was silent as I found myself nose deep in my thoughts. Between the hard work Larry and I had ahead of us and my hectic recollections I was a mental mess. Partnering that with the uncertainty I felt speaking to counselor about our problems led to me being in shambles.

I'd been more than shocked when Larry suggested we go this route again and even more shocked when I instantly agreed. Our last bout with a doctor trained to mend marriages had been a nightmare. The appointments Larry failed to show up to were some of the first indications the he didn't give a fuck and was checking out of our marriage. That component alone made marriage counseling a trigger for my angst.

The idea of lifting rugs and yanking off old bandages made me nervous as well. The doctor would delve and we'd have to divulge to eventually heal. But healing was hard. It literally took stripping yourself down to your very core, exposing everything, to reach a certain level of vulnerability in which healing began to occur.

It was easier to give up than to fight.

And we had both done that only to find that the easy route wasn't rewarding at all. It was actually paved misery.

I sighed, and for the millionth time today my fingertip grazed the scar Erin had left me with. Frowning, I rolled my eyes. That bitch.

Remembering how brazen she had been had me ready to lay hands on her all over again. Sure, I was missing tons of puzzle pieces needed to form the complete image of our relationship but turning on me the way she did just didn't make sense. She'd been proud to say the things she'd said. It was as though she'd recited the lies and wanted to see me break.

When had our friendship gone to shit on her end? She was argumentative but she'd always been loyal and mostly supportive of me.

Her telling Larry about the abortion I'd had was a total shocker, and I could remember thinking she'd done it in an effort to get him away from me since that's what she'd always wanted. But when she started running her mouth about fucking him and how good the sex was I knew that her actions, as shitty as they were, weren't designed to emancipate me from Larry like I'd thought. Her actions, and words, had been self-involved and malicious.

I didn't regret fighting, destroying her salon or smudging my record. What I did regret was the warmth and love I'd greeted her with at the super market a few months ago.

That bitch had stood in my face, exchanged numbers with me and made plans to dine all while knowing what she did. She'd violated me for the second time and deep down I wanted to return the favor.

I knew the anger that I harbored for her would get me nowhere but being taken advantage of when you're damn near powerless is a major blow to the spirit. I wouldn't let it hinder me though – I had to move forward. Resentment was pointless and poisonous.

The car coming to a permanent stop was the remedy needed to dead my thoughts.

“Ready?” I looked over finding his eyes on me.

“Damn,” Erin huffed from across the table, pulling me away from the task of wrestling the tail off of my shrimp.

“I hate when restaurants don't cut off the fucking tail. It's not edible!” I whined, annoyed that there was a hindrance between my food meeting my mouth.

“Bitch, just bite the tail off.”

“Nah, cause then I would have to spit it out and like wipe my mouth and shit.”

She waved me off, glancing at the table to the left of us with a scowl..

“ The hell is wrong with you?” I quizzed, finally forking my shrimp into my mouth where it should've been seconds ago.

“This fucking baby won't stop crying.” She complained.

“It's a baby – they cry.” I deadpanned.

The baby had been crying for a while but it hadn't bothered me any.

“True, which is why they should have stayed their asses at home instead of ruining everyone else's peace with the screams of that thing.”

“Thing?” I chuckled, rubbing my protruding belly. “Hate to see what you're gonna call yours.”

She scoffed. “I'm not have fucking kids. They're terrible.”

“Girl, please.”

“I forreal.” I smiled at her slightly broken English that always exposed the roots she tried so hard to hide.

“Well, you know your role of a godmother is to take on all motherly responsibilities of my baby if something is to ever happen to me, or Larry.” Her eyes bulged and I laughed.

“Well, I'm gonna have to turn down the position, sis. Glad I didn't sign shit!”

“Bitch,” I laughed. “You're gonna love my baby.”

“Not if it look like it's long faced ass daddy.” She murmured, plucking a shrimp off my plate.

“My man is fine and jealousy will kill you.” I supplied as she smirked at me. “And if you bring your ass over here to my plate again, I'll kill you.”

“Pregnant?”

“How?” Larry and I quizzed simultaneously.

“Well,” The doctor started with a wry expression. “No method of contraception is completely 100%. The Natazia pill is 91% effective when taken as directed – and that's a good number but it leaves room, though small, for conceiving a child.”

“I,” My sigh was inward and used to calm my nerves. “When I left to go to Paris I didn't take my birth control. I haven't taken it since then.” The admission depleted me and I bowed forward in my seat.

Larry's hand met my back just as mine covered my face.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I groaned out, frustrated. “I have to be the most fertile woman on the planet and I can't have fucking kids. What a fucking curse!” I cried, tugging my hoodie over my face in an effort to hide my tears.

“How you know this?” Larry asked the doctor, rubbing my back with more fervor. It was to calm him – not me.

“Well, when Marlee came in last week for her annual exam we did a normal urine sample just for testing as a part of the exam. Because there was no concern of pregnancy we didn't expedite the sample testing. When we did run it and get the results a few days after your visit they came back positive – for pregnancy.”

When neither of us said anything she went on. “I know given your history and the fact that you were just prescribe a new birth control that this may not be the best news. I'm sure you guys need time to grasp this information and make a decision about this pregnancy.” Her voice was soft, cautious. “What I can say is that medicine has advanced immensely in the past few years – even the past few months. I'd love to tell you about it when you're ready just so your options don't seem so black and white.”

“What option?” Larry all but chirped.

“Lar,” I croaked, feeling his hopes float to the heavens.

His eyes dropped down to mine and when they connected his shoulders dropped. I didn't want him to get too excited about anything any doctor could tell him about new methods. We'd been there and done that. We'd been told that our baby was healthy and our pregnancy was normal. We been told of methods and options and new medicine and fucking advancement. Yet we still didn't have a child. I refused to believe that this time would be any different.

I refused to fail him again. I couldn't take it.

We wouldn't survive it.

"I can't believe we're here." I took in the endless blue before turning to face Larry, my husband. "I can't believe we're married."

His smile was gentle and his eyes warm. "I can."

"Yeah?" My grin stretched proudly across my face.

"Yeah." He approached me, leaving my body meshed between him and the balcony railing. "I plan this from the first day I know you."

"Nigga, please." I cackled, waving him off.

"I do. When you go crazy on my brother for try to take your camera I know." His arms threaded around my waist.

"You knew what?"

"That I marry you, and love you every day for the rest of my life."

"I'm so lucky," I breathed, burrowing my face in his neck just to make sure that this was real, that we were here and in love and married. "You're so right – it scares me."

His brows met. "Why?"

"All I really know is wrong." I admitted, playing with a lone twist that refused to stay with the rest.

"Now we change that." He pressed his lips to mine. "We ride this til the wheels fall off and when they do we fly."

and now, you’ll never be happy..

#swbffic #lt fanfic

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