And I wonder is he questioning my life improving from me having fled Jersey with O’s dirty money, or me being more of a morally encompassed person than him. I could only answer no to one of those questions.
“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 rises 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.”
And 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.
“Stop…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 try 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.
“Rayna!” he calls out to me, to no avail. I maintain my stride.
“Rayna!” 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.