The Price of Love

CHAPTER 3

The sun shined through the window, making me up. I sat up on the bed, rubbing my eyes. The events of last night were playing out in my head. I didn't want to get up; I just wanted to stay in bed because I knew as soon as I walked out of the room, I would come in contact with James, whom I so desperately wanted to avoid. I just have to try and avoid him today because tomorrow we both work, so I will be distracted by that, and so will he.

Taking a deep breath, I finally muster the courage to step out of the room. My heart races as I push the door open and take my first steps into the hallway. Just as I'm trying to gather my thoughts and figure out what to do next, I unexpectedly collide with James. His tall figure looms over me, and I can't help but look up, catching his gaze for a brief moment. Instead of stopping to talk or say anything, I instinctively step around him, avoiding any interaction. My mind is racing, but my lips stay sealed, and I keep walking without saying a word.

"Baby, I'm sorry," I hear him call out as I walk away from him. I didn't bother to reply because, honestly, I just don't care. I make my way into the kitchen grabbing a bottle of water and drinking it. I take a deep breath trying to mentally prepare myself to go back into the room. He hurt me so much, and I knew that a simple apology wouldn't change anything or make me feel better. With my heart heavy and my mind made up, I head back into the bedroom.

I open the closet, scanning through the clothes hanging there in a hurry. I need to get out of this house as soon as I can. The feeling of being trapped here was suffocating. I reach for the first outfit I can grab, not thinking about what it is, and I head straight into the bathroom.

James is in there, standing in front of the mirror and brushing his teeth. The bathroom is huge, with enough space for two people to be in there at the same time without feeling cramped. It feels strange to share this space with him after everything that has happened. He glances my way as I walk in, but I don't look back. I just focus on getting myself ready and trying to put as much distance between us as possible. The last thing I want is to have another conversation that will only remind me of how much he had hurt me.

He looks at me with a mix of frustration and sadness. "So you are just going to ignore me? Just act like I don't even exist?" 

I don't say anything back to him. Instead, I walk over to the shower and turn it on, waiting for the water to get warm. The sound of the water rushing fills the room, but it doesn't drown out his voice. 

"Adama, baby, please, I'm sorry for everything," he calls out, his tone filled with desperation.

I just stand there, letting the water run, not bothering to answer him. It's almost amusing how he thinks that saying he's sorry will magically fix things. Does he believe that one word can wipe away all that's happened? I can feel his eyes on me, watching closely, but I do my best to ignore him and focus on the sound of the water and the steam starting to rise.

"Adama, say something, please," he begs again, sounding more pleading than before. But I still don't turn around or respond.

I realized that he wasn't going to stop talking to me anytime soon, so I chose to just turn off the water and take my shower in the spare bathroom instead. The noise from the main bathroom was getting a bit too much, and I needed a moment to think. I walk over to the counter and pick up my clothes and towel, feeling the fabric in my hands as I try to focus on getting out of this situation. Once I have everything I need, I head for the door, but just as I reach it, he steps in front of me, blocking my way.

"Move out of my way, James," I say, my voice low and barely a whisper, trying not to show how frustrated I felt.

"Just talk to me," he replies, standing firm, crossing his arms as if to say he isn't going to budge until I give in. "I'm not moving until you do."

He leans back against the door, his body relaxed but his expression unreadable. With his arms crossed tightly over his chest, he looks like a wall, solid and unyielding. I stand there in silence, just staring at him, unable to find the right words to break the tension hanging in the air. It's a strange moment, filled with unspoken thoughts and feelings, and I can feel the weight of the silence between us.

"Fine, you want to talk."

He nods his head slightly, showing that he understands.

"I'm not having this conversation in the bathroom," I say firmly. "If you want to talk, then we can go to the front room."

He nods again, this time with a sense of agreement. Finally, he steps aside and moves out of the way from in front of the door. I took the lead and walked out of the bathroom first, feeling a bit relieved. I made my way to the front room, where the light was a little brighter and the atmosphere felt more open. I find a chair across from the couch and sit down, trying to get comfortable.

He settled onto the couch directly opposite me, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that felt a bit heavy. There was quiet tension in the air as he just stared, waiting for me to say something.

"What do you want to talk about, James?" I ask, leaning back in my chair, trying to get comfortable but knowing deep down that this wasn't going to be an easy conversation.