“When you said that all you could offer me was a turkey sandwich, I pictured regular bread, mayo, maybe cheese, and that cheap packaged turkey. This is far from regular, and you cut it diagonally,” he said after taking his first bite.
I laughed. “Deli sandwiches are my guilty pleasure, so I want them to be good.”
He nodded his head as he stuffed his mouth with chips. When he finished chewing, he said, “I’m pretty sure this is the best turkey sandwich I’ve ever had. No lie.”
“Thank you.”
We ate in relative silence for a few minutes, but I felt as if there were a few elephants in the room that needed to be addressed.
“So . . .” I began.
“I meant what I said, Skye. Cut them niggas off.”
That wasn’t the elephant I wanted to discuss first, but it was definitely something that needed to be addressed.
“Let’s talk about what we’re doing before?—”
“Ain’t shit to talk about, baby. Your pussy, and everything that comes along with it, is mine.”
“But—”
“Skye, we’ve had a good night. Don’t piss me off.”
He bit into his sandwich, and his annoyance was obvious. I thought it was cute and couldn’t stifle the giggle that slipped from my lips.
“You think this shit is a game?” he questioned.
I shook my head. “Not at all, but the way you're reacting is cute, although it could also be a red flag.”
“Red flag? How?”
“You’re not giving me a choice.”
“Baby, you must have amnesia. You made a series of choices tonight that brought us to this moment. I gave you more than one chance to reconsider, but your hot ass wanted to fuck as much as I did, and you didn’t heed my warning.”
“You can’t ask questions like that in the heat of the moment,” I told him.
“Why?”
“Because . . .”
“Because it’s the only way to get you to be honest about your feelings for me. Let’s cut the shit, Skye. I’ve let you play in my face since the moment we met, when you gave me that bullshit ass line about the universe bringing us back together. It turns out that line wasn’t bullshit at all, and the universe has brought us back together hundreds of times since our first meeting. You’re just hardheaded.”
“I’m not hardheaded. We didn’t want the same things, and I didn’t think it would be fair to pretend that wasn’t the case.”
He looked at me curiously for a moment, making me nervous because he didn’t say anything at first.
“Didn’t?”
“Didn’t what?”
“You said wedidn’twant the same things, instead of saying wedon’twant the same things.”
“Oh. I, umm . . .”
“Be real with me, Skye. Has something changed? Speak from your heart, baby.”
I shared with him the feelings I’d been having lately, as well as the conversation I’d had with my mother. He listened intently, without interjecting his thoughts and opinions while I spoke.