Running From Reality

"I was busy working. I did nothing wrong."

King would never change. His mother's upbringing was too deeply ingrained in him. Fine, then I could play that game.

"Even your mother would agree that flaunting your mistress in front of your wife is in poor taste, especially at the office."

"I never said I was having an affair."

"You didn't have to. I knew the moment I saw you with her this morning. And you didn't deny it early. Lastly, the way Nan immediately tried to gain access to your office now confirms it. She can't stand the thought of you being in here alone with me."

"Nan isn't like that."

"Sure she is, only you don't see it. I predict she will try again in less than five minutes."

I had no idea why I knew that, but as a woman, every instinct in my body told me I was right.

I didn't want to be right.

"I brought you here to talk about your behavior downstairs, not about Nan."

"Then I'm leaving because I don't regret how I handled Anya."

I tried to walk by him and out the door. King stopped me with a tight grip on my arm. I struggled against him, and he pulled my body up against his.

Then, the most unusual thing happened. I felt seen by King Heavenly as he met my gaze. It was breathtaking. It felt like the home I'd always craved.

"Stop struggling," King demanded.

When I stilled, his hands roamed from my arms to my back.

"Besides," King said, his breath husky, "you should be grateful that I have Nan. If it weren't for her, I'd be in your space like this more."

He brushed his cheek next to mine. The barest hint of razor stubble rasped against my skin.

"I know you don't enjoy being touched, but I'm a man with needs. So, I take them elsewhere, somewhere safe. Nan is faithful to me and will never threaten your position as my wife. You and I, we can do what it takes to make a family, then we can lead our own lives separately but together."

I beat against his chest, infuriated to be in such an intimate position while the man I thought I loved cheapened our relationship even further than he already had.

"Is that what you really think? That a man has needs and a woman doesn't? Oh, and that thing about not wanting to be touched, how does that warped brain of yours reconcile that with your accusation that I'm the one having an affair?"

I pushed at him again, but I might as well be aiming at the wall.

"Damn it, let me go. I can't think or breathe like this."

"No. If I let you go, you'll run."

"Geez, King, you don't even know why you want to keep me other than what your mother tells you. Think for yourself for once. Nan makes you happy. I don't. But, yes, I will run."

He squeezed me tighter, painfully so. I could feel all of him pressed against me. I appreciated his cologne and the firm planes of his body. My heart beat a little faster at this display of alpha testosterone, but the positives weren't enough to outweigh the negatives.

I aimed a knee at his groin and missed, but it was enough to elicit a grunt from King. He fumbled his grasp on me. His eyes flashed with anger as I twisted away and put some distance between us.

A knock at the door drew King's attention enough that his eyes lost that glow of pure fury.

"Do you need anything? The minister is still waiting. He's growing impatient."

"So am I," King muttered.

"Let her in. I'm going."

For a long minute, I wasn't sure what King would do, but he finally stepped out of the path to the door.

"Thank you," I said.

I had my hand on the doorknob when King said, "Mom told me you didn't like sex."

I fumbled with the lock and threw the door open. Nan stood directly on the other side.

There's nothing like having one's suspicions of adultery confirmed only to come face to face with the mistress immediately.

I wanted to strike her. I wanted to thank her for giving me a way out of that room. I wanted to banish her to Antarctica, and I wanted to marry her off to King as soon as possible.

I settled for a warning. "Don't ever show your face in front of me again. Do you understand?"

Nan blinked away my words. "I only take orders from King."

I nodded. "I hope you don't live to regret that decision."

It took every remaining bit of control I had to walk out of that office at a measured pace with my head held high. I kept my head up during the entire elevator ride and the walk through the mall, but the second I was outside, I gave in to the need to run.

I took off like a flash, my feet beat against the pavement. My backpack bounced in rhythm with my feet on my back. I darted around pedestrians. If traffic slowed my progress, I veered off in another direction.

It didn't take long before I lost track of where I was, and my breath was ragged. My pace slowed until it dropped to a walk.

I was surprised I didn't give out sooner. Lettie's chore list didn't include cardio workouts. It didn't include many things that were good for me—like the truth.

I didn't miss King's confession that Lettie was behind our lack of a lovelife. I tried to imagine exactly what excuse she made up, and more importantly why King believed her without at least discussing it with me.

My entire existence for the last three years was built on lies and miscommunications. Three years of my life had been stolen. I wanted them back.

As my breath returned to normal, I started assessing my location in relationship to a bus stop.

I'd wandered into a sketchier part of the city. The buildings were rundown. Several were closed. Broken bottles glistened on the gray concrete. Weeds grew in the sidewalk cracks.

Music boomed from a car coming toward me. I cringed, not because I disliked the genre but because noise pollution is noise pollution. No one had the right to force feed tunes to the people around them. 

A vagrant who had been leaning in the doorway of a deserted storefront walked toward me. His face was dirty, and he smelled like booze and garbage. I tried to walk around him, but he stopped me.

"Hello, girl. You should greet your elders."

"Hello. Excuse me." I tried to skirt him again.

He turned and walked with me. "Look at me."

I hadn't realized I'd avoided eye contact with him until he said something. I supposed it was ingrained in me not to make eye contact because it was an invitation to interact. The last thing I wanted to do right now was interact with anyone, particularly not a smelly guy who might be dangerous or looking for a handout.

I stopped and looked at him. "I see you. Can I go now?"

Apparently, I wasn't the only one struggling with not being seen.

"What? You think you're too good to conversate with me. You're just another uppity rich woman lost in the wrong part of town."

"It's not like that. I'm just upset about something and need to walk it off."

Another disreputable man crossed the street, heading toward us.

I took a mental inventory of my backpack—a wallet with little or no cash, bus pass, ID, debit card that would give anyone access to my sorely depleted bank account, and my laptop. Not much else.

A third man walked toward us as the second man stopped behind me. He was way too close for comfort.

The first man continued his tirade. "You think just because you're rich, you can look down on us. That just ain't right. Not right at all."

"It isn't right. I don't have any cash, but I do have a debit card you can have. You know, as an apology gift. Or we can go to the ATM. I can withdraw cash for you."

The third man was close enough to make out his features. While these two guys had shaggy hair and were dirty, the third was younger. His hair was short. His clothes appeared clean but worn. Gray duct tape was wrapped around one shoe as if holding on the sole.

"What, you think money can solve everything? Is that what your momma taught you?"

"No, sir. I'm sorry. May I go? I have to make dinner for my family. Can I do that?"

"Maybe later," the second guy said. "I'm Sammy. Let's take a walk over there and get acquainted."

I didn't want to go anywhere with Sammy, especially the alley he pointed toward. I saw a dirty mattress tossed down in the shadows. It didn't bode well for me.