I stand outside Jaylen’s apartment door for five minutes before I build up the courage to knock. Jaylen comes to the door wearing a wife-beater and gym shorts. He holds the smile on his light-chocolate face until he glances down and sees my duffle bag. I smile quickly.
“We just got in an argument, that’s all.”
Jaylen presses his lips together, shakes his head, and leads me inside. His apartment makes me feel comfortable. He has a long sofa, TV, and a few weights lying in the living room. The kitchen holds a round table and two small chairs. He also has two bedrooms and, luckily for me, the guest room is furnished. I love his apartment because it reminds me of home. I turn to face Jaylen as he closes the door behind me. “Can I stay here awhile, please?”
“I kind of figured that by your bag,” he says. “What happened?”
I take a deep breath. “I think Chris is cheating on me. I saw him kissing this random girl last night. She dropped him off, and I saw them kiss from the window. I don’t know what’s going on because he denied that the kiss even happened.”
Jaylen collapses on the couch, looks at me for a second, then looks at the TV screen. He shakes his head and says, “It’s not that hard to figure out. I think you’re right about him cheating.” There is a pause before he asks, “How many times has he cheated on you?”
The question stings hard, and I wish I didn’t care about someone who clearly doesn’t care about me. Why do I cling to the very person pushing me away like I’m unwanted? Am I even wanted? I look around Jaylen’s apartment and feel out of place, and I’ve been here a thousand times. I’ve slept over here, I’ve eaten here, I’ve watched TV, I’ve curled up on that very couch and dozed off to the sound of the Bull’s games, but I still feel out of place.
My thoughts turn to my grandmother, and I hear her voice saying that no matter where I go, no matter how far, if there are people there who love me, then I’m home. I start to feel a little better, but then I realize that the person I love and who is supposed to love me probably hasn’t been faithful to our relationship since it started. What kind of love is that?
“Once. Maybe twice now,” I answer.
Jaylen nods. I know he remembers exactly how many times because he was here giving me a shoulder to cry on. “Why did you forgive him?” he asks.
“I guess I wanted it so bad. To be in a relationship. A real one with someone I loved and who loved me. Like you and Angela. The way Chris talked to me seemed like we could have it all. Be perfect together, and all that I needed to do was forgive him.”
He hesitates before he answers. “You can’t compare your relationship to mine, though.”
I nod, then shrug. “I guess I don’t know how to explain it.” I look around the living room and stare into the kitchen and try to focus on the reason I’m here. “Can I stay here for a while?”
I hear him take a deep breath. “What am I suppose to say to Angela when she sees you staying here?”
I look at Jaylen’s hands as they carelessly hang above the sofa’s headrest. I know those hands would kill for me. “I don’t know,” I answer.
I’m about to suggest staying in a hotel, when Jaylen stands up and places a hand on my shoulder. I bite my lower lip and look up at him and see him smiling. “I guess I better not tell her then,” he says, then picks up my suitcase and takes it to the guest room.
