I follow them over to Gameroom, which is located in Center City Philadelphia, not too far from my and Jordan’s home. Jordan will be staying the night with his father, but at least my commute won’t be so far when I leave.
Sure enough, the place is empty with only staff on standby for Stenton and Jordan’s needs. We immediately start with video games, something both guys enjoy. Then we move on to pinball machines, and after that, bowling. When we arrive at the miniature basketball courts, of course, Jordan invites me to play, and it is hard not to get caught up in the excitement of the game. The second time I miss the shot, Stenton sidles up behind me and coordinates my wrists so I can have better range with my throw. His scent is so familiar and compelling that it’s distracting, making me uncomfortable.
I toss the ball and make the shot.
“Yay! Mommy got skills! Mommy got skills!” Jordan jumps up and down on his toes.
I glance over at Stenton whose pouty heart-shaped lips are too patent and his eyes are slanted a bit more than usual as his heavy eyes rakes over my entire face. This happens each time we touch, no matter how casually. It’s also why I’ve opted not to spend time around him over the past year. It clouds my mind and judgment. It also depresses me.
“Zo,” pours from his mouth melodically. Stenton always enunciates my name with reverence and bold sensuality. “There’s something I need to talk to you about…something we need to discuss.”
My heart pounds in my chest and the palms of my hands mists. Why his request to talk causes immediate anxiety, I don’t know, but my mouth has gone dry and lips part. Fear lodges in my throat, rendering me unable to speak.
When I’m able to, I whisper, “Su-sure.” I then try for a cooperative smile.
See, that’s always been the thing about Stenton. He’s brought out those things in me that are uncharacteristic of my true nature. I’ve always stepped out of my comfort zone with him and have done things I never thought to do. At one point they were all good traits that modified the core of me. My sense of optimism and unconditional love prevailed where he was concerned. Now, those qualities have morphed into characteristics that are ugly and dark, which is why it’s time for me to go.
“I think Mommy’s just about played out, baby,” I say to Jordan as I turn to him, dropping on my haunches. “I have an early day tomorrow since one of the workers called off. I’ll see you in a couple of days?”
My heart twists at that acknowledgement, but I know he’s in the best hands. The only person who loves my child possibly as much as I do is his father. He adores Jordan.
Jordan nods, surprisingly not fighting my departure. I offer my balled hand to do our fist bump and he joins me. I can see the slant in his eyes as well. Sir Jordan is sleepy. It’s nearing his bed time. I kiss his head and turn to collect my leather jacket and purse that I tossed on a statue earlier.
When my gaze meets Stenton’s, his hand drops from his chin and his shoulders square, a sign of him opening up to me. It further coils my heart. I hate what we’ve become. I don’t know how to say a simple goodbye. Over the years, I’ve lost conversation for Stenton more and more. Luckily, he takes the lead in our parting words.
“Good night, Zo. Thanks for hanging out with us tonight. Jordan will be home on Friday.”
The brevity of his bidding me goodbye sends a fluttering sensation through my chest. Still, I don’t know what to say. So, I say nothing. I nod, turn on my heel, and give one last fleeting glance to Jordan who’s now shooting the ball, not paying us any attention, thankfully, before walking out.