"Come up again," I stated, attempting to change the topic or at least give myself more time to think about Leniey's question.
"He asked if you miss that Leniey guy," Kelvin interjected without Leniey saying a word. The seriousness in his voice was palpable. I had only talked to Leniey for two days, why was Kelvin suddenly feeling insecure? Had he been insecure all along?
"Come on, guys, we're not talking about this Leniey guy, are we?" I stated, trying to diffuse the tension that was building up between Kelvin and me. I knew Leniey knew that he was the center of this tension, or at least I hoped he did. I hoped this would just slide, so I took a sip of champagne and stated, disregarding what I had said earlier, "No, I never missed him."
"You're lying, Angel," Kelvin stated, eyeing me suspiciously.
"Why would I lie about that? Why would I really lie?"
"Okay, cool," was all he said.
Of course, I had lied. Of all people, it was Leniey that I missed the most. Kelvin had helped me at least forget about him, but sometimes Leniey would pop up in my thoughts or on my timeline, and flashbacks of him, our first day together, and everything about him would come rushing back in an instant. But I would never say that; Kelvin would be furious. I was trying to save us, to save what we had.
"Truth or drink, Kelvin, what are your worst fears about your girlfriend?" Leniey asked.
Oh God, here we go again. It felt as if today we were in an interrogation room, with Leniey playing the role of the judge, and as if, we knew barely anything about each other. He had already noticed our relationship was in trouble, and we were hardly trying to fix it. It seemed that the more we tried to fix it, the more the cracks widened, and the walls of this relationship, which I had worked hard to accept and build, were slowly falling apart. I could already feel tears welling up in my eyes. I knew that when I was drunk, alcohol had a strong effect on my emotions. Thank God darkness had already set in, and in the dim light of this small hotel hut, they couldn't see me. But I could feel my feelings overwhelming me. Whatever Kelvin would say in response to that question, whatever he would say about his worst fears, it scared me.
"Worst fears? None," he stated, and after a moment of hesitation, he added, "bitches are all the same."
This caught me off guard. It shook me to my core. Him saying he had no fears was one thing, but him calling me a bitch was something no man had ever done, not in any context, not back at home, and not here.
I was contemplating all this. I was trying to figure out that Kelvin was probably just trying to annoy me, knowing that he had caught on to his feelings toward me. But I could feel the tears welling up, and I was blinking rapidly to keep them from escaping. So I took another sip of wine, hoping it would help wash away the sting of the word "bitch" that was still on my mind. When I turned to look at Leniey, I saw him gazing at me. Oh, Leniey, please stop. I knew that if he showed any hint of pity, I would start crying, and I didn't want that.
It was my turn to ask them questions now, and I gathered all my courage to push aside my feelings. "Okay," I started, "Leniey, truth or drink..." But suddenly, my mind went blank. What, why, when... all the wh-questions swirled in my head, and I couldn't form a complete sentence. Leniey looked at me, waiting for an answer, but at that moment, my heart was pounding, and my emotions were overwhelming me. So I just blurted out, "Did you ever meet that girl again, and if you did, how did you feel about her?"
"One question at a time, you know that, Angel," Leniey said.
"Just answer," I said, not even hearing myself, my voice quivering with desperation to know the truth.
"Why do you even want to know?" Kelvin interjected.
"I'll answer," Leniey said as fast, as if trying to diffuse the tension between Kelvin and me. "Yes, I did. She's in a relationship now. Of course, I can't just erase my feelings. Love... as brief as my encounter with her... love never really ends. Every time I see her, I just want to make her leave the boyfriend, make her mine again. I really... she's like my only unfinished chapter. I've seen many other women, from the East coast of this city to the mountains back home, but none of them felt like her. It was like she came into my life just when I needed her the most and left when I needed her even more. I still think about her, remember everything."
"I understand that, bro," Kelvin said in between hiccups. He was already quite drunk, probably more than all of us. "Love... our love as men is selfless. But they love us in halves, like we're cash cows. They love what we can give them, gold diggers." He added with more hiccups.
I suddenly wanted to leave, to go sit alone. Kelvin's words were laced with hate and disgust, and I had never heard him speak like that before. Or maybe he was talking about someone else.
"You see how she's quiet? It's because she knows it's about her. I'm not talking about someone else, Angel. No... no..." Alcohol was clearly affecting him as he continued, "No... at first, I wanted you for sex, you know? Who gives up sex within the second week? Oh, come on. All women do, they're cheap... like my worthless slippers... cheap. Just for the sex, and by the way, that girl, she was good... I've never enjoyed... never felt pleasure like she gave... what you could never..." Kelvin's words were already piercing deep, especially when he started talking about our sex life in front of Leniey. I couldn't stop myself, but I knew I couldn't speak either. He kept talking, and I just tuned him out. I didn't want to hear any more contemptuous words from him. Why was he here if he thought so little of me? That was the question running through my mind. At least it had been two weeks; most men here would have sex within the first three days. Maybe sex was my biggest weakness, the one thing that could easily break down my guard and hurt me to my core. I knew my emotions were already evident to anyone watching me, my eyes reddened from trying not to cry. As he spoke, I stood up suddenly, but my legs couldn't carry me far, and I thudded back down into my seat.
"...now she wants to leave because she cannot handle the truth," he added.
I wanted to look him in the eyes as he spoke those words about me, to see his face and understand his perspective, but summoning the courage to do so was difficult. Instead, I slowly stood up and made my way to the bathroom, taking care not to disturb anything, as I uttered a little 'to the bathroom' statement. However, I didn't actually enter the bathroom; instead, I left the building and found a chair outside, positioned for star gazing. There were a few other people around the hotel, but my emotions were overwhelming me. I was in pain and mental chaos, trying to comprehend what I had done to deserve such disrespect. Tears welled up uncontrollably and fell onto my knees, where I had laid my head.
The warmth of my tears mingled with the sweat on my skin, and the night was not particularly cold. I stared up at the stars, lost in my thoughts, digesting all the hurtful words that had been said about me. I wasn't a gold digger, and I certainly wasn't cheap. I was lost in contemplation when I felt someone sit down beside me. I didn't bother to look; I simply closed my eyes, allowing my emotions and feelings to overwhelm me.
Then, a long hand gently touched my shoulder, offering comfort as it softly rubbed my back. I didn't care who this person was; I just needed solace. I needed someone to prove to me that I wasn't the person described by that guy in there. I was certain that I would never look at him the same way again tomorrow, and I expected him to come back with excuses, blaming his behavior on alcohol.
My heart ached, and I hadn't felt this kind of pain in years. It felt like it was touching every part of me, squeezing my fragile heart relentlessly. I didn't even know how I would return to my rental house in Birmingham. My chauffeur had insulted me in every way possible, using the harshest words typically aimed at women. I thought this game would have me drinking, but I never expected it to make me cry. The night was soothing me gently, and it was comforting me in a way I hadn't expected. I suddenly realized that I didn't need alcohol because it was making me even more emotional than I could handle. I was too emotionally drained to engage in any physical confrontations, even if they were provoked.