FIXED ON YOU TRILOGY: Jayoncé ❤️ 18+🥵🔥

CHAPTER 21: HE LOVES YOU 💔

Chapter Twenty-One

I swallowed the acid rising in my throat and dressed in a flurry, not bothering with my hair or my face or shoes. Just because his things were gone didn’t mean he was, I told myself as I descended the stairs, trying to squelch the growing unease. There had to be an explanation.
I followed the sound of voices and found Kelly and Sophia leaning over the dining room table, examining several large poster boards spread in front of them. Kelly lifted her head as I approached and smiled. “Good mor—“

“Where’s Shawn?” I cut her off, my arms folded over my chest.
Sophia glowered at me over her reading glasses. “He left with Mariah.” An undercurrent of pleasure laced her statement.
Kelly rolled her eyes and turned her body to give me her full attention. “He had a business thing come up. Some sort of emergency. He had to fly immediately to Cincinnati.”
“Mariah drove him.”
“Mother, honestly! Stop it!” I’d never seen Kelly irritated and it looked unnatural on her usually smooth, unruffled features. It worked to silence Sophia. “Mariah was already here to show us the designs when Shawn discovered he needed to leave. She offered to drive him to the airport so that he could leave the car for you to get back to the city whenever you wanted.”
He was gone. He’d left. With Mariah.
Suddenly, the air in the house seemed stifling and thick. Breathing became difficult. Had Shawn really had a business emergency? Or was he running from our emotional connection the day before? He’d told me he wouldn’t lie to me, but this time he hadn’t said anything to me at all. He’d just vanished.
And the thing that I hadn’t ever wanted to face—when he said he’d always tell the truth—that could have been a lie itself.
It was too painful to address, especially in the presence of others, namely Sophia. Getting back home became priority number one. He’d left the car for me. “But I don’t drive.”
Kelly shrugged. “Shawn said you might not want to. Martin can drive you then.”
“I’m not giving up my hired help to—“
Kelly threw her hands up in the air and shot a piercing glare at her mother. “Then I’ll take her! Or Lebron or Chandler.”
“I’ll drive you.”
I turned to find Jack behind me. Gratitude boiled inside so intensely, tears formed in the corners of my eyes. “Thank you. Give me ten minutes to pack.”
I rushed out before anyone could say another word. Taking the stairs two at a time, I sped to our bedroom. Our bedroom. The thought pained me in the absence of Shawn. After dragging my suitcase out of the closet, I scrambled around the room picking up random items that I’d left lying around the past few days—my swimsuit, my robe. The red nightie.
When I’d returned from the bathroom with my toothbrush and other toiletries, Kelly was standing in the doorframe. “Bey, you don’t have to leave yet.”
I walked past her and dropped my things into my luggage.
“Stay until tomorrow. We can go do something girly, get mani-pedis if you want.”
There really were great people in the Carter household. I adored Kelly. And Jack had become a fast friend. Even Chandler and Lebron for all their boyish personality had taken a piece of my affection.
But the goodness of all of them was outweighed by the horror of Sophia.
And no one meant anything to me in comparison to what I felt for her son. “Thank you, Kelly, sincerely. But I can’t stay here without Shawn.”
“I understand.”
I zipped up my bag and stood to face Kelly, searching to see if she really did understand. From the softness in her eyes, I believed she did.
Maybe she understood more than I knew. I took a deep breath and asked, “Did he say…anything about me?” I bit my lip, embarrassed to let her see my insecurity. “Or leave any message for me?”
She seemed unsurprised by my question. “I think he was going to call you or something. Have you checked your phone?”
My phone—I hadn’t looked at it since I stuffed it in my purse on the drive up. I returned to the closet and found the purse hanging on a hook inside the door. Rifling around inside, I quickly located the phone. “It’s dead,” I said. “I forgot to bring a charger.”
“Is it a standard USB? You can take my car charger.”
I wanted to hug her. “Thank you, Kelly.”
“No problem.” She watched while I set my suitcase in the rolling position. “Martin can get that.”
“I got it.” I didn’t want to wait to call someone up to carry a suitcase I could manage myself. I scanned the room one more time then started toward the door.
“Bey.” Kelly stopped me before I’d crossed the threshold.
It was difficult to give her my attention when every fiber of my body wanted to go. I fidgeted as I met her eyes.
She took a step toward me, her face soft and compassionate. “I know he loves you,” she said firmly. “I know he does. But he’s been through…things…that’s made it hard for him to open up, so please don’t take that as, well, as evidence of anything if he can’t tell you how he feels.”
My eyes felt misty. Maybe Kelly was as snowed as I was, but it felt good to hear. I swallowed hard. “I know.”
“Good.”
“But…” I might never get the chance to have this conversation again. “Why do you believe that? I mean, what makes you think that he loves me, or that he even can?”
Surely Kelly knew the things Sophia claimed about her brother. That he was a sociopath, that he couldn’t feel anything for others. Unless all of that had been her mother’s way of riling me up. But I suspected there was more to her claims than that—they were rooted in truth somewhere, a therapist’s opinion, a doctor’s diagnosis.
Kelly closed her eyes briefly and blew out a steady stream of air. “I don’t know, Bey. He’s different around you. I’ve never seen him like he is with you.”
“Maybe you see what you want to believe.”
“Maybe.” She stuck her chin out. “But I’m not giving up on him. I hope you don’t either.”
“I won’t.” But Shawn might have already given up on me.
And, if not me, himself.
Back downstairs, Kelly left me in the foyer to grab her phone charger from her car. Jack had gone to the garage to bring the Mercedes up to the circle drive. I paced, waiting for him to pull up.
I sensed Sophia behind me without seeing her. Hoping she’d go away if I didn’t acknowledge her, I kept my eyes focused on the front driveway. I was wrong.
“You shouldn’t be surprised that he left you.”
I still didn’t look at her, but I pictured the satisfied grin she likely wore, imagined myself slapping it off her face. Violence never hurt as much as a good verbal argument, though. Problem was, if I reacted to her bait, she could very well win. Again.
“I told, you he doesn’t feel anything.” She was a warrior. Good at the game. I had no doubt she’d been the one who taught Shawn to be so good at his own games. “For anyone,” she added.
“That’s a lie.” I had no chance against her. She drew the reaction she desired. But if I had to spar, I’d put my best fight into it. “I’ve seen proof to the contrary.”
“Because of how he seems to love you? He’s a good actor.”
I spun to face her. “No, because of how he seems to love you.” I spit the words like venom. “When there’s no reason he should. When you’ve alienated him and betrayed him and destroyed him and made him the confused man he is by your lack of affection and support and faith. If he can continue to care about a piece of shit like you, after all you’ve done to him, then I have no doubt of his capability of love.” You fucking bitch.
And then I opened the front door and walked out, rolling my suitcase behind me, relieved to see Jack pulling up as I did. Sophia didn’t follow.
Kelly had given Jack the charger in the garage. He handed it to me in exchange for my luggage. While he stowed my suitcase in the trunk of the running car, I climbed in the front passenger seat and plugged in the charger and my phone before securing my seatbelt.
We were on the road before my phone had enough charge to turn on. I had twelve texts and four voice messages. I opened the texts and skipped the eleven from Idris, going immediately to the one from Shawn. “Plexis crisis. I’ll call as soon as I can.”
My heart sunk. I should have been grateful that he’d left a message at all, but didn’t I deserve more? He had led me to believe that I did.
I accessed my voicemail with only faint hope. He’d never called me, and I doubted any of the messages were from him. I listened long enough to the first one to hear Idris’s voice then immediately deleted it and skipped to the next one. All were from my brother. All were deleted without a full listen.
Jack was more considerate company than I could possibly ask for. After asking me to enter my address into the GPS, he offered enough small talk for me to understand he was there if I needed him. Then he allowed me to wallow in silence.
For the better part of an hour, I flipped my phone around in my hands, opening the text slider and closing it again without using it. The old me—the crazy, obsessed me—would have already sent a series of messages to Shawn, each heightening in tone and accusations. It took everything in me not to physically do so, but in my head I let myself compose them.
“Why did you go? Are you really on a business trip?”
“I can’t do the on-duty anymore. I quit.”
“Why won’t you let me in?”
“I love you.”
Finally I dropped my phone in my purse, leaned my head against the window of the car, and closed my eyes. I’d allow myself one well thought-out text when I got home. Then I’d go to a group meeting. I just had to make it until then without doing anything stupid.
I must have fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes again, we were outside my apartment building. There were no spots available along the street, so Jack had turned on the emergency blinkers and pulled up next to the line of parked cars.
Standing at the driver’s door, Jack leaned across the top of the car. “If you wait here, I can find a spot somewhere and help you up to your apartment.”
As harmless as Jack was, having him in my apartment did not sound like a good idea. And I didn’t need the help or the company. “I can get it. Thanks, though.” Standing on the curb with my bag, I felt moved to say more, to express my overwhelming gratitude. “And thank you for driving me here and for…well, for…” For not treating me like Sophia treats me. “For being so kind.”
Dammit. I was choking up again.
He chuckled. “I’m not really that kind. I just appear so in comparison.”
I didn’t have to ask whom he meant to compare himself with. “Jack.” I shouldn’t keep him when he was parked illegally, but suddenly I had to know. “Why are you still married to her?”
“I wish I could say it’s because I remember the sweet woman she once was, but she was never a sweet woman.” He looked off at the traffic behind him, not seeming to be bothered by the cars honking as they passed in the next lane. “Sophia came to the marriage with a couple of businesses given to us by her father. I took control when her father retired and have spent my life making them successful. Now Shawn runs them. If I divorced Sophia, the controlling interest would go to her. As long as we’re married, she doesn’t care what we do with them. And she’d never ask for a divorce—it would be too embarrassing.”
He turned back to face me. “I wonder sometimes—if I’d let go of the businesses, divorced her when the kids were still young, could I have changed how they are now? But she would have gotten joint custody at the very least. And she may have messed them up even more, retaliating against me. It’s not an ideal situation, but it is what it is.”
Not an ideal situation—it was similar to what Shawn had said. No, it wasn’t ideal, but it was life.
In my small studio apartment, I left my suitcase standing by the door and collapsed on my bed. Tears came, long and steady. I couldn’t even say what I was crying for exactly. All I knew was that I hurt. I hurt from Shawn’s departure, for his unwillingness to open up to me. I hurt because the lines of our pretend and real relationship had become so blurred that I couldn’t tell the difference anymore. I hurt from Sophia’s words and hatred. I hurt for the mother she’d been to her son and for the brother Idris had been to me. I hurt for the things I’d done to Idris, for the things Shawn had probably done to his family.
Most of all I hurt because I was alone and in love. And that was the worst combination of things to be.
An hour had passed before I’d calmed enough to send the one text I’d promised myself I could. It was as harmless as I could come up with—a message that said all I dared to say, afraid more would scare him further away. “I’ll be here when you return.”
Not even thirty seconds had gone by after I pushed “SEND” when there was a knock on my door. We had a doorman in the lobby—only building occupants were allowed in without prior approval. But Shawn could pull strings, couldn’t he? He was the only person I knew with such power.
The hope that it was him, as weak of a hope that it was, propelled me to my feet and to the peephole.
The man in the hall wore a crisp black suit with a yellow tie. But the face didn’t belong to Shawn—it belonged to Idris.
I should have known it was Idris. His name was on the lease, he’d be allowed up. I pressed my face against the door and debated whether or not to let him in.
“Open up, Bey.” Heavy banging on the other side of the door jolted my face from its resting position. “I know you’re in there. The doorman told me you came up.”
Fuck. He must have been staying in town—at the Waldorf, most likely. What the fuck was so important that he had to see me? Maybe I should have listened to his messages.
Reluctantly, I opened the door partway.
He pushed past me forcefully. He was angry. Probably because I’d been ignoring him.
“What are you doing here, Idris? Are you stalking me?” The joke made me smile even though Idris’s eyes only glowed hotter.
“You haven’t returned any of my calls.” I watched as Idris’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. I knew he’d never hit me—at least, I hoped he’d never hit me—but I’d seen him rage enough to punch holes in walls. Maybe it was a good thing his name was the primary on the lease instead of mine. He’d have to pay for any damage.
I shut the door and turned to face Idris with a fake smile. “Oh, did you call?” Innocent wasn’t usually the best tactic with Idris, but I was too exhausted for anything else. “My phone’s been dead and I’ve been out of town.”
“Yeah, I got that from your boss at the club.”
God, he’d even called Kendrick. What the fuck?
Idris ran a hand through his hair then took a step toward me. “You were with him, weren’t you?”
“Him, who?” But I knew he must have been referring to Shawn. That was the who I’d been with after all, and Kendrick had known that. But why Idris cared was beyond me.
Idris slammed his fist down on the top of my dresser. “Dammit, Bey, don’t play games. This is serious.” He took a step toward me, his eyes narrow slits. “Shawn Carter. Were you with Shawn Carter?”
“Yes.” I crossed my hands over my chest. “And Jonathon Carter, for that matter. And Sophia Carter and Kelly Carter and Chandler Carter. At their Hampton house. Idris, what is your problem?”
His brows rose almost as high as his voice. “What is my problem? You are my problem. Always. Beyoncé, I saw you in the society pages—you’re dating him?”
Well, no. But I kept that to myself.
“You can’t date Shawn fucking Carter. Do you know who he is? Do you know what he is?”
For the briefest of moments, my chest felt like it might burst. I had no idea how, but Idris knew about Shawn’s games with women somehow and was worried about me. I hadn’t felt concern from him in years. I didn’t realize how much I’d craved it.
Idris continued. “He’s a goddamn giant, is what he is, Beyoncé. If you fuck with him—when you fuck with him—I won’t be able to get you out of it. The Carters are so big, they’ll squash you like a bug.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” I swallowed, processing what Idris had said. “You’re not concerned for me, you’re worried about…Shawn?”
“Why should I be concerned for you?” He pointed his index finger toward me. “You’re the one with the history of going mental over guys.”
“Get out.” I could only manage a whisper.
“Harassment, drive-bys, breaking and entering, stalking—” He held up a finger for each item he ticked off.
“Get out,” I said, stronger. There were no words for the depths of betrayal I felt, no reason to even defend myself against his accusations because he’d already marked me as guilty without even giving me a trial.
“Were you even invited to the Hamptons?”
“Get the fuck out!” I screamed. “Get out! Get out! Get. Out!”
He didn’t move. “My name’s on the lease, not yours.”
“Then I’ll get the lease changed. Or I’ll move.” I crossed to the door and opened it for him. “But now I’m telling you, so help me god, if you don’t leave I’ll call the cops and, even if it gets me nowhere, it will at least occupy your life with yet another embarrassing sister incident. So I’m telling you, get the fuck out, now.”
“I’m done, Beyoncé.” He raised his hands up in a surrender position. Still he didn’t move.
“Get out!”
This time he stepped toward the door. “I’m leaving, but I’m telling you, I’m done. Do not even think about coming crawling back to me.” He turned back to face me after crossing the threshold. “You’re on your own with this mess.”
I slammed the door in his face.
Idris was out of my life. Out of my life for good.
Maybe because I’d already cried all those tears earlier, or maybe because I’d simply had enough of family members who constantly kept their loved ones down when they needed compassion and support most, but the sigh I let out wasn’t in frustration—it was in relief.