Page 41 of It’s The Dawg In Him For Me

“You can get us in here? I heard you had to make a reservation way in advance.”

Shyheim parked the car and smiled.

“I have some pull, come on.”

We got out of the car, and he grabbed my hand as we walked across the street. I glanced up at him, and he looked at me as if he was my protector.

Inside, he didn’t even have to speak. We were greeted and led to a table. The vibe inside screamed high-class money. We were seated at a round table with thick white tablecloths and were brought some bread and the menus as soon as our butts touched the seats.

“Have you been here before?” he asked.

“No, but I’ve seen pictures of this place on Instagram and always wanted to come.”

“Well, I am glad that I was able to share this experience with you,” he said softly.

The waitress came back around, and we ordered some drinks. I got some wine. He got an Old Fashioned. Shyheim ordered some appetizers, then our food so that the waitress could leave us alone. Once she was gone, Shyheim moved closer to me and stared at me for a second.

“We have worked together for a while, and I never got in your personal business. Maybe I should have so that you had an outlet, but I want you to know that I am sorry for whatever you been through. Not having you at work…I just missed seeing you.”

Shyheim looked as if he had been holding on to that for a while and was glad to get it off his chest.

“You don’t know what happened?”

He shook his head. “No, people tried to tell me around the station, but I didn’t want to hear it from them.”

“Why not?”

“Because people around there lie, and if I was going to know what happened, I wanted it to come from the person who went through it.”

I nodded. The waitress brought out drinks and appetizers at the right time. I needed a break in that conversation. I took a few sips of my wine and a few bites of the spinach dip, then I turned back toward him.

“I came home from work and found my husband with my best friend, and I tried to kill not only them but myself.” I paused. That was the first time I said it out loud since it happened. “Rosama called the police on me, and they admitted me to the hospital. When I got home, he told me that he wanted a divorce… The thing he’s been sayin’ is that we ran our course or some shit.”

Shyheim shook his head, then took a sip from his glass.

“I am so sorry you went through that. Are you going through the divorce process now?”

I tilted my head at him. “No, I don’t want a divorce. I still love my husband.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So are y’all in counseling or anything?”

I shook my head. “No, he don’t want to do anything. He wants us to be over, but I am trying to fight for us.”

Shyheim went quiet and took a few bites of the dip with bread.

“I hope I am not overstepping, and you can stop me if I am,” he said. “But why don’t you want to be with somebody who will treat you right?”

“He used to⁠—”

“Used to being the key word,” Shyheim said, cutting me off.

I stared at him for a second.

“Listen, Mariah, you are beautiful and smart. You had to build yourself up after something heartbreaking, and you still have love for the person who did it. I hope that…”

He stopped and shook his head.

“What?” I asked. “You been honest, don’t stop now,” I laughed, and he cracked a smile.