Page 20 of Buy Back My Love

I rolled my eyes but took it from him, forgetting how strong weed could hit after five years without it. I inhaled way too hard, and the smoke burned all the way down my throat before I started coughing like somebody’s grandma.

JB leaned forward laughing and rubbed my back. “Slow down.”

“Shut up.” I pushed his hand away and coughed again. “This shit strong.”

“You asked for it.”

“I did not. You handed it to me.”

He was still laughing when he took the blunt back before I embarrassed myself any further.

We sat there quietly for a while. I could hear crickets outside the screen and cars passing somewhere in the distance, but the longer we sat there, the harder it got to pretend that damn box of condoms wasn’t still sitting in the bathroom.

JB glanced over at me. “What’s on your mind?”

I rubbed my palms over my bare thighs. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

I looked at him for a second, almost changed my mind, then decided I would drive myself crazy if I didn’t ask.

“Have you been with other women since I been gone?”

JB didn’t answer immediately. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and looked down at the blunt burning between his fingers before finally bringing his eyes back to mine.

“Yeah,” he said. “I have.”

Even though I’d already known what his answer would be, hearing him admit it out loud still hit different. I’d spent five years telling myself he deserved to move on, that I couldn’t expect a man to sit around waiting on me, and that I didn’t have any right to be mad about what he did while I was locked up.

None of that shit mattered now because the second he admitted it, I shot out of the chair so fast the legs scraped across the concrete.

“Lee.”

I heard JB behind me, but I kept walking. By the time I made it through the patio door and into the bedroom, tears were already burning my eyes.

His footsteps followed me down the hall. “Lee, you ain’t stupid. There wasn’t no use in me lying to you.”

I stopped beside the bed with my back to him and wiped at my face before turning around. “How many?”

JB didn’t answer, and the silence made my stomach twist. “How many, JB?”

He looked down for a second before meeting my eyes again. “I don’t know.”

I stared at him, searching his face like a number might somehow be written there. “That many, huh?”

“I ain’t keep count.”

That answer hurt worse than any number he could’ve given me. I looked away, but my mind was already running through all the questions I probably had no business asking.

“Who was the last one?”

JB stayed quiet, and when it became obvious he wasn’t answering, I turned fully toward him. “How long ago?”

“Leona.” He let out a breath. “It’s your first night home. Let’s not do this.”

I laughed because of course he didn’t want to do this. He’d had five years to live whatever life he wanted while I sat in prison trying not to imagine it.

“I hate you.”