CHAPTER 55:NOW

"Are you jealous?" Aaliyah asked, now letting her body lie on the small couch she was seated on.

"No, not a bit," I stated, hissing out and pouring myself another whiskey, as I raised the bottle slightly up; as an indication or more quest to Aaliyah if she wanted some, but she shook her head.

"Doesn't seem like it," she answered, her eyes lingering on my face for longer than usual. "You know one thing about you, Hayzen? You are too predictable," she added, and I raised one of my brows. She really thinks I am too predictable? She is wrong for that.

"Really?" I questioned, now getting interested in this conversation.

"You started acting all manly and nice when you learned of him... that's first." She specified, looking up at the ceiling as if trying to remember other occasions in which I was too predictable.

"I wanted to, I always..." I wanted to say that I wanted to clear up my past mistakes, or it was not about jealousy. But additionally I always left at least something for her most men don't stand up when it comes to money. But anyway, "What I mean is, you cannot just hang out with any man. Men are not good people," I finished after stammering for the first part. I could not initially formulate a crafted idea or reason behind why I was starting to be all over Aaliyah. Maybe she was right; I had started being nice, but I don't understand the 'nice' meaning.

"And where do you stand?" she asked.

"Aaliyah, I am trying my best. I am really... but at least I know I am trying my super best here. I don't know what the hell the others are thinking, and the thought of you having your heart broken by them scares me." I knew my answers were totally all over the place. I also did not know what I was saying.

"Are you trying to be possessive with me? Because trust me, you aren't one of the billionaires who lock women up and wife them."

That statement made me chuckle. Aaliyah was now becoming a sloppy talker. She was really answering anything and questioning everything. Everything and anything she feels like.

"I am not being possessive, I am just practicing realism here."

"What if it is you who shall hurt me?" she asked, and we stared at each other for a moment. Her stare was soft, and I knew indeed I had done it a long time ago–quite hurt her. I don't even know why I was trying to protect her from the rest when it was me all along who was the leopard in sheep's clothing.

"I am sorry, I... eh... I..." my mouth hissed onto a lot of "I's" and "eh's," but my mind could not formulate the right word to say. Changing is one thing and practically doing it is another thing. There were a lot of things I had somehow elapsed or maybe stopped doing. Like bringing a girl flowers had totally stopped being my thing. Even taking a girl out had in some way become old school for me. In addition, saying 'I love you' after every call had become a deed long over and done. I hated the word 'I love you.' I for sure hated it. And I knew by the way Aaliyah was looking at me, at the moment, she would either storm out and curse at me, adding in a very dangerous word like "Fuck you, Hayzen!" or "You are the worst!" or "Those men are better than you!" So, instead of being an idiot and stammering, I wiped my face in frustration, as if trying to wash away my thoughts, cleared my throat, and started upfront again, "Aaliyah, I know I am not... God! This is hard!" I stated, but she still stayed in here, looking at me, listening attentively. She always did that when I was telling something.

"Aaliyah, I went through a lot in campus..." I paused to drink in the whiskey left. I had never told anyone this story. No one! Especially no one, and if I told her when I passed out in the wedding earlier, I don't know. Plus currently, I don't know why I was sitting here wanting to open up to her. Even alcohol never deterred my judgment of daring to tell a person about my campus or what happened. Nonetheless Aaliyah, somehow, by the way she looked at me, as she is now, would for sure make anyone open up. Even after the pause, she still said nothing. She was observing me, my actions, and everything.

"Well, I was on campus and I met this girl…"

"Kate?" she questioned, and I nodded.

"And you both have a child, and she hurt you really bad! Her parents did take part too, plus her not reaching out to fight for what you both had," she added, and I nodded, both in acknowledgment and in surprise that I had spilled the tea of everything that was and had happened in this of my crooked life.

"I don't love her anymore!" I stated, the words surprising me more than the laughing face that Aaliyah was already displaying.

"I didn't expect that," she stated.

"I'm serious, I don't! It's been over six years or something." The reason I clarified was not to project the idea to Aaliyah that I still felt things. I did not want her to think that way.

"Then why haven't you moved on since?" she questioned, and my head became a dustbin of emptiness. Even the random idea of reasons could not formulate. I quenched my loneliness with women who did not even deserve me. I drained my ache with liquor for years on times I was off work. Maybe, until Elvis called me out for that party when I met Aaliyah. "Do you even have a reason?" she added, as if starting to be mad. I did not want her to be mad at me. I did not want her to think of me that way. It was with her that I was starting to actually find myself existing. I had been extinct for a while.

"Aaliyah, I don't know what to say about that. I think I held onto the pain..," my mind shifted right when I talked about the pain. I did not want to state that the pain was the reason I did not move on. The acceptance of the fact that all this happened because I just could not fathom the idea of losing Kate and the son I had never seen until recently was hard to actually state. Vulnerability! A thing in me that never dared be accepted. "Let's go to sleep," I slowly whispered.

I did not even look at her eyes. I did not want to see her in tears or in pain. I was also in pain that I could not just open up to anything. So, I just stood and paved my way to my room, believing that Aaliyah would just take the guest room.

Right in, without closing the room's door, I punched the wall so hard that I felt my knuckles cry in pain. Twice, thrice, fourth... and then I laid my head to rest on my left hand on the wall... as my right hand's blood made its way down like a river.

In the moment, I felt as if someone was watching me, and when I looked to the door, I saw Aaliyah. Her eyes were fixated on my right hand and the floor. But when she looked at my eyes, they were not the little empathetic and soft ones I had always admired. They were hard on me, as if disgusted by what I was doing.

"Aali...," I started, as I quickened my legs to reach out to her, but she closed the door behind her before I could even explain.

I slightly opened the door with my left hand and headed to the guest room door, which was actually opposite mine, and knocked twice. As no one was answering, I opened it and found Aaliyah sitting on the bed as if in deep thought. Her eyes looked up at me as I closed the door behind me and helped myself sit almost next to her.

"It's not what you think," I started, but she just shook her head.

"What will you gain by hurting yourself?" she questioned.

"Aaliyah, I can't deal with this right now," I stated.

"Hayzen, you are a doctor, for crying out loud. This is self-harm. You cannot just knock on anything when pain becomes too much. You cannot bottle up everything and just let it out onto the wall," she added. Her eyes mow soft. It was as if her feelings were aching for me. She was also too predictable when it came to vulnerability and love.

"I know I have to let it out, and the last time I did it, I let it out on you, Aaliyah, because of the goddamn videos. I can't do that to people. I'm the problem. Due to inner pain, physical pain, must be felt."

She shook her head after I said those statements, then looked at my now not bleeding right hand. The knuckle's skin had been damaged and little ruptured soft tissue injury could be seen.

She took my hand in hers and slightly ran her hand around the injuries.

"Elvis used to do this," she stated, paused, and added, "He started doing this right after our mother died and father remarried." She finished as she wiped a tear that escaped through her eyes. "You can't hurt yourself, Hayzen, you can't, please!" she pleaded, and suddenly wells of tears surrounded her eyes. Now it was me hugging her and soothing her, as she pleaded with me not to do it ever again.