“Yes. And I expect you to believe it because you know my character. If I told you I didn’t do it, then I didn’t.”
“It had the same details in the article, Sienna.”
“And I am maintaining my innocence!” Heat spread through my cheeks and traveled down to my toes. I took a deep breath to calm myself. “Look. I’m not going to argue with you in the breezeway. Why don’t I come inside and we can discuss this?”
Chris shook his head and shuffled from side to side. “No. Now is not a good idea.”
“Why?”
He jerked his head back toward the door and then turned back to face me. “It just isn’t a good time.”
“Chris! I’m starving! Feed me,” I heard a whiny voice call from inside.
“Really?” I took two steps back.
“It’s not what it looks like.”
He reached for my arms, but I stumbled away.
“Sienna, I have my—”
“You have a side chick, mistress? Or am I your side chick?”
His head jerked back as if he’d been slapped. “I would never do that to you. You know that.”
“But I guess we’re broken up. You sent me that stupid cigarette and everything, so technically, you didn’t cheat. Unless you were two-timing us both.”
“Even if that’s the case—”
“Chris! C’mon!” the whiny female demanded again, her voice coming closer. The woman popped out her head. She was gorgeous. Smooth brown skin and curly short hair that accentuated her elfin features. “Oh, h-hello? Didn’t realize you had company, Chris.” Her eyes held a glint of mischief.
“Goodbye, Christopher.” I stumbled down the stairs. My heart squeezed so tight I thought I was having a heart attack. I wanted to stop, bend over, and let the pain wash through me. Chris’s betrayal reopened feelings I’d pushed dormant.
But like a sleeping volcano, they had awakened, spewing flames, hot lava, and cinders.
“No more,” I promised myself. I jumped into the car and sped away. A ping from my phone snatched my attention. I glanced down at my phone.
Keith Davenport Drops from the City Councilman Race.
I shook my head and tossed the phone into my purse. I’d won by default, but I knew in my heart I would’ve won fair and square. I should be happy, ecstatic even. But my victory had been spoiled by Chris’s betrayal. No matter. I would dedicate my life to the constituents, to making my city better. And I would never, ever open my heart up again.
* * *
I played with my plate of spiced rice, tomatoes, and lettuce, minus the stewed meat that the rest of my family had eaten. Mama and Baba, as well as my sister Farah and my brothers Joshua and Edwin, were seated around the large oak dinner table. The rest of my siblings were out of town or lived elsewhere. Otherwise, when Mama mandated dinner with family, everyone scrambled to attend.
“Sienna, stop picking at your food and eat,” Mama admonished from across the table.
My sisters and brothers snickered. Instead of responding to their juvenile behavior with my usual response of sticking out my tongue, something we’d all done as kids and continued as adults, I shoveled down the rest of my food.
I felt like such a fool. After Keith, I’d vowed to never get myself worked up over a man. Now here I was, depressed as all get-out because Chris had proved the age-old truth that men couldn’t remain faithful.
Now he had the audacity to blow up my phone. I didn’t need an explanation, I just needed him to leave me alone.
Dinner ended, and I began my chores of washing dishes and clearing the table along with my brothers and sisters.
“Sienna.” Baba tapped my shoulder. “When you’re done with the kitchen, meet me in my study.”
After I finished with the dishes, I headed to Baba’s study. It smelled of worn leather and lemon oils. Ten years ago, it smelled of leather and tobacco. After my campaign for his lungs, he finally quit his bad habit of smoking.
“Sit, binti.” He gestured at the maroon chaise that reminded me of something that would be in a therapist’s office. “What troubles you, daughter?”
“I—” I sighed, not quite sure how I wanted to play this. Did I really want to go crying to my dad about a man?
“Tell me it isn’t that spineless rat, Keith.”
I laughed, despite my melancholy. Baba had come up with the nickname when he’d heard Keith give a speech at our home church. Keith had gone on and on about his Christian upbringing, which both Baba and I had known to be false. Later that day, Baba told me to watch out for him.
Baba didn’t know about Keith’s philandering, but I suspected he had a hunch.
“No, Baba. It’s Christopher.” He was the real rat. Building me up, telling me he more than liked me, and as soon as the first storm of our relationship hit, he ran away into the arms of another woman.
“Ah. Now that’s a man’s man.”
I grunted. “Does a man’s man accuse you of leaking a story about your ex, break up with you via a dramatic symbolic broken cigarette, then the very same day have another woman in his home?”
Baba’s coffee brown eyes widened. “No.”
“Sadly, yes.” I nodded.
“Did you give him a chance to explain? What did he say?”
“I drove to his house to confront him. Saw that . . . that woman myself.”
“So he admitted that he’d moved on?”
“No.” I shook my head. “He said that ‘it’s not what it looks like.’ Just like Keith did before. Just like a man.” I groaned. “Why do guys think we’re so stupid?”
A weird look flitted across Baba’s face. He wanted to say something but decided against it. “What did the woman say?”
“Nothing much. Just that she didn’t realize someone was here. She didn’t look particularly bothered. Just inquisitive.” Her eyes had danced and she seemed overly interested and giddy, like I was some sort of alien species she observed under a microscope.
“Not every man is Keith, my daughter. Everyone deserves a second chance.”
“I’m not giving another cheating man a second chance.”
“And I agree. But you don’t really know if he has cheated.” Baba stroked his salt-and-pepper goatee. “I’m shocked he hasn’t tried harder.”
“Oh, he has.” I’d blocked his phone number and email. I told Baba how he’d tried to bum rush me at work. Thankfully the public defender’s office had security, and I’d asked them not to let him back to my office. My apartment was gated with a security guard. After he smashed my heart to smithereens, I quickly took him off my guest list.
Baba nodded, looking not at all impressed. “Oh, my daughter. Has this man hurt you so much that you are afraid of living?”
“Chris hurt me, but I’m—”
“Not Chris. Keith, the rat. I sat back while you hardened your shell. I was so happy you redirected that fierce energy you had for others to yourself. But now, daughter, you trust no one. You just sat here and told me, your father, that men are no good. I was the first man to love you. Have I not shown you what love and trust from a man means? Have I not treated your mother with love and respect?”