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I don’t think about him as often as I did when I first got out of rehab. But he was brought up a lot today. I wonder what he’s doing right now. I wonder if he ever thinks of me and Gabe. Does he wonder how we’re doing?
I’m not stupid enough to believe that he isn’t getting updates about us. Until a few months ago, Fem still made appearances. She told me on her last visit that she would be away for a while.
The ringing of my phone has me sitting up, I place my mug on the coffee table as I pick up the device.
“You’re late,” I say as I answer the Facetime video from my best friend.
Like clockwork, Trina calls me every night around eight. Unless she’s out of the country or busy with her career as a makeup influencer.
For as little support as I got from my mother and sister during my rehab and after, Trina has made up for it. She has been by my side since I called her from the facility and told her I was going to rehab.
“I was getting some dick from my husband,” she says with a smirk.
Three years ago, Trina met a man on one of her many dating sites. He was a widower with no kids. They had a whirlwind romance and got married a year later. He spoils my bestie, and despite her not wanting to admit it, she’s madly in love with him.
“You don’t have to rub it in,” I tease. “Some of us are on a celibacy journey.”
Trina scoffs. “Celibacy my ass. You’re just still hung up on your baby daddy’s dick.” She rolls her eyes.
Placing a hand over my heart, I pretend to be offended. “I am not.”
“Says the woman still wearing his hoodie.”
I glance down at the oversized black hoodie that Gabriel gave me that night. The thing no longer smells like him, but I refuse to toss it out. Strangely enough, it brings me comfort.
Feeling as if I’ve just been caught with my hand in the cookie jar, I shake my head.
“Whatever. Where’s Mr. James?”
Trina sighs and closes her eyes. “Can you please stop calling my husband Mr. It’s just James.”
“He’s old enough to be my daddy. I don’t feel right calling him by his first name.”
“Girl, he’s only forty-five with your awkward ass.”
I toss my head back and laugh. There’s no better therapy than laughter. All the crap from earlier washes away.
“So,” Trina says picking up her glass of wine off the nightstand beside her. “How was your day?”
I quickly filled her in about my lunch with Shay and the incident at my mother’s.
“Raina is delusional. I’m starting to think maybe she’s the one on drugs.”
I snort in laughter. “She’s definitely smoking something. But what she said did sting a little.”
“Why?” She asks, leaning her back against her headboard.
“I don’t know, I just feel like maybe I should have made better decisions than to have a one-night stand with a man that will probably remain absent in his son’s life for the rest of his life.”
“Do you want some cake?”
“What?” I scrunch my brows trying to figure out where the hell that random question came from. “Why would I want cake?”
“To go along with the pity party you’re throwing yourself.”
I roll my eyes and sink back into the couch. “I’m serious, Trina.”
“So am I. Cut yourself some slack. Women have been having babies by the wrong men for years. The shit happens, it’s no one’s fault. Plus, as far as absent father’s go, yours is doing a damn good job. He paid for you to go to rehab and made sure that when you got out you never had to worry about anything financially. Girl, my daddy lived in the same house as me for ten years and never paid a bill.”
