Adrian caught my adamancy eventually. He slowly raised a shaky hand to his mouth for a few seconds, still processing my erratic plans with my hair. He was right; I did say that I would focus on nurturing my hair for the purposes of lengthening it. And that was because of Azmir. But Azmir wasn’t to be considered anymore. I almost felt bad about pulling the who’s paying? card on him. Adrian didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of my love war with Azmir Jacobs—or whatever the hell I could term it.
Adrian dramatically closed his eyes in slow speed, opening them again with new found resolve. “Okay, Cookie. We’ll cut it off something fabulous.” He acquiesced with a slow, impassive nod as he reached for my hand to assist me from the chair.
An hour later, I walked out of the salon with the autumn sun kissing my neck. It felt good, bold—new! And I loved it. I needed it. I needed a diversion from my reality. From the pain. Adrian cut and styled my hair an asymmetrical length with one side reaching my ear and the other beneath my chin. He styled it so well that my wavy curls were silky and bouncy, almost resembling a texturized style. I was contented, even if only temporarily. My first anti-A.D. move. And I was damned proud.
LaWanda postponed our weekly Bible group study meeting earlier that week and rescheduled it for this evening. I decided it was best to get out of the house to keep my sanity, so I headed over to her place for a lovely Bible study. The ladies were crass as usual, but a much needed distraction. To my good fortune, no one asked about Azmir. I guess time does wonders for trivial matters such as shacking with a tall, chocolate, handsome, and apparently rich man.
My fortune continued on Sunday when no one was pressed to sit next to me again. I liked my privacy and keeping a distance between associates. Sad to say, since Michelle’s passing, the only person I could tolerate for more than an hour was Chanell and her crazy butt. While in church that Sunday, I laughed to myself, thinking of her and all of her outlandish ways. She was truly a delight and I made a note to call her to see if she wanted to hang out soon. Unless she felt otherwise, she was still a friend of mine. I had hoped.
Monday came around very emotionally for me. I’d stayed up the night before crying and menacing over my breakup with Azmir. My body craved him like a drug and my heart mourned the death of his presence. In all honesty, it hurt like hell that he hadn’t reached out to me. I thought he’d at least try to fight for another chance at us. Had he taken on his plan B—Dawn Taylor? Did he finally see what I feared, driving my decision to leave—that we were no good together? My heart weighed so heavy and not mention, the unnerving throbbing between my legs only added to my blues.
I managed through my workout with Tyler, but not without him noticing my lack of vigor. He didn’t say much other than he saw it and wasn’t happy with my performance. The remainder of the morning I coordinated the set up of the full staff meeting over at the rec center. They loaned us the large penthouse conference room that was one floor above Azmir’s administrative offices. I had Sharon and the intern running back and forth to set up the room while I saw my morning patients.