“Rayna, I am so, so, so, so sorry. I can’t do it. I have so much riding on this right now,” with widened eyes boring into me, she admits while gesturing to her pending family on the car behind her. “I swear if there were something that I could do without jeopardizing this, I would. I pray that all works out for you and Azmir. I can honestly understand the pressure of chasing down love. You understand, don’t you?” she said with tears in her eyes.
I jerk my hands from her grip and call on every bit of decorum I possessed to not haul off and slap the taste out of her mouth. She just told me that her life with her fiancé trumped what I had with Azmir. And she didn’t even acknowledge Michelle’s disgraced memory. Who needs enemies when you have shallow, faux family-friends like the one who stood before me?
I gave her the exact response Azmir would have as my parting words, “Indeed,” and I turned to get in my car.
My dignity had been challenged and although it prevailed, I felt I owed her at least a nudge in the forehead for her selfishness. I was once again confronted with that feeling of loneliness. I was in a place all by myself. Azmir doubted me and my only redeemer just told me she wouldn’t help. I cried the entire way to the marina. I didn’t understand just how I’d gotten back here—with my back up against the wall.
One thing was for sure: I would not be living with a man who all but accused me of being a whore. I couldn’t get past that. He was accusing me of behaving like a slut on the vacation that he paid for. I had fallen in love with him by that time—and I told him! My feelings were doubted along with my reputation and—here again—dignity. There was no way that we could go any further in this relationship if he obviously didn’t trust me.
Before I knew it, I was pulling up to the high-rise at the marina. Once inside, I headed straight to the bedroom and started pulling my clothes into a cheap suitcase I’d purchased from doing a bit of unexpected shopping while out on the East Coast during my last trip. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to take everything, but I tried getting as much as I could in there.
As I’m tossing in underwear I hear, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I jumped and nearly fell on my behind, startled.
It was Azmir in a dark blue sweat suit. His towering body was poised in a manner that was defensive. I’ve seen him like this. It was becoming all too familiar now. Does he feel he can address me like this because he believes I’m the one on the video? A sharp pain ran through my chest.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I said, out of breath.
Wow! Didn't realize I was expending so much energy doing this.
Azmir went to say something, but used his fist to muzzle it. He threw his arm against the frame of the walk-in closet door and gave a distressed look. It was time for me to go. I didn’t want a showdown. I barely zipped up my little piece of luggage and I rolled it out through the other entrance of the closet. I passed Azmir as he rested the back of his head on the door frame.
“Rayna, you’re not leaving,” he said calmly. Too evenly. I maintain my stride to the door. He starts on my trail.
“Yo’, you’re not fucking leaving!” he yells at the top of his lungs, frightening the crap out of me. It stopped me in my tracks.
I turn around facing him, “You will not view me of as some type of whore and think that I’m going to live here and tolerate it. I don’t have to put up with that…and I won’t!” I tried to keep it as clean as possible. Although I’d given up profanity a little while ago, I was struggling here as Azmir was the second person that I wanted to cuss out today in four different languages.