The ride from the police station to her house only took 20 minutes, but it felt like forever to Chariece. “Thanks again,” she said to her friend, Desi, as they pulled into the driveway.

Desi didn’t respond until she parked. “I’m coming in.”

“No, it’s been a long night. I just want to shower, go to sleep, and forget this ever happened.”

“You have a court date coming up. So, you won’t be forgetting anytime soon. And I just had to bail you out of jail. I think I deserve an explanation.”

“Fine,” Chariece responded flatly.

“Attitude? Really?”

Chariece didn’t say anything else as she unlocked the door and turned off the alarm.

The house looked completely normal. No indication of the chaos from the day before. Nothing was out of place. If Desi would just leave her alone, Chariece really could relax and put it out of her mind. She was good at blocking things out. Most things, anyway.

Chariece took her time in the shower, letting the water run down her body until it turned cold. She didn’t want to face Desi. Didn’t want to answer any more questions. She’d called Desi to pick her up because she was the least pushy and judgmental of all her friends, but even she had her limit.

Almost an hour later, Chariece emerged from the bathroom and went downstairs to have the conversation that she knew would take the last bit of energy she had left. Desi sat a cup of tea in front of her once they settled on the couch.

“I didn’t know if you’d be hungry or what you might want.”

“This is fine. Thank you.”

“Alright, so what happened?”

“Darius.”

Desi rolled her eyes. “What about him?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Chariece, I thought you were finally done with him. Now he’s the reason you went jail?”

“See, this is why I didn’t want to talk.”

“Ok, I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

“Well you know we broke up a couple of months ago—”

“You can’t break up with someone you were never with,” Desi interrupted.

Chariece started to respond, but stopped. Technically, Desi was right. After ten years, Darius still wouldn’t say that they were in a relationship. Everyone knew they were together. They did everything that couples do. They went on dates, traveled, spent holidays together, he knew her family and she knew his. He brought her on family vacations. They even lived together for the last couple of years, but still—he didn’t want to label it.

She convinced herself that all she was missing was a title. And why would she push a good man away over a label? Her friends went along with it initially, but after years went by and he was still correcting people when they called him her boyfriend or making it a point to declare himself single in front of other people, they tried to talk some sense into her. Did she really want to keep wasting her time waiting for him? Why was she settling for this?

No one thought it would go on for as long as it did, Chariece included. She would stop talking to Darius periodically, thinking that he would realize what he was losing and step up and make it official. But he never did. They would just find themselves talking again one day, and eventually fall back into their routine. After four years of that, she figured there was no point in harping over being a “girlfriend.” By that point, she expected an engagement ring when he finally felt “ready to be official.” He never felt ready.

Looking back, she wasn’t even sure how they ended up living together. Darius moved into her place, but it wasn’t a big discussion. He was just there so often that it didn’t make sense to keep his apartment. Another point that Chariece would bring up when her friends questioned her situation—why would he give up his apartment if he wasn’t committed to her?

Things went downhill quickly after Darius moved in. She couldn’t help but notice how often he went out with no explanation. How many nights out of the week he didn’t come straight home from work. They still went on dates and spent time together, but it wasn’t as often. She didn’t question him much about where he went—he made it clear that would push him away, and she didn’t want to lose all the progress they’d made by living together. That was a huge step.

The late-night calls started about six months after he moved in. They died down after she mentioned it. There was no argument, he just said, “You’re right. I shouldn’t be getting calls that late.” That was the end of it—another sign that he was committed. Chariece knew plenty of women that had to fight with their men about their phones and the women they were talking to at all hours of the night.

A few weeks after the calls stopped, Darius complained about feeling crowded and needing more space. He moved some of his stuff into the guest bedroom. Before she knew it, he was sleeping in there most nights. They still had sex often, but there wasn’t a lot of romance involved. Between the quickies and sleeping in separate rooms, Chariece felt like all she had was a friend with benefits. Her friends were quick to remind her that she technically was just that. In their eyes all Darius did was expand his benefits: he’d cut his living expenses in half by moving in with Chariece. Plus, she cooked, cleaned, and did all the laundry.

Chariece mentioned how she felt about the separate rooms to Darius on several occasions. True to his word, he became more distant after every conversation. He told her that she was letting other people get in her head, that she was being insecure and worried about nothing, that she was putting too much pressure on him and she was going to ruin things.

It didn’t take long for the semi-regular conversations to turn into frequent arguments. They were heated and extensive, sometimes lasting for hours. Most times ending with Chariece throwing something against the wall or at Darius. After those arguments he would leave for a couple of days. If she asked any questions when he returned, it turned into another argument and he would pack up and head out again.  

The cycle continued for months. Darius came home from work early one day and found Chariece crying about it in the living room. They sat and talked for hours. Chariece poured her heart out, and Darius said that he understood, and he didn’t want to see her hurting anymore. He would make it all right. Chariece felt hopeful again. It was just a rough patch and they had finally worked through it. A week later she came home from work and all his stuff was packed.

Chariece went on a rampage. She threw whatever she could grab at Darius, then she started throwing his boxes out of the front door. Darius eventually had to hold her down to stop her, and by then the living room was destroyed and the front lawn was littered with clothes. Neighbors were gathered around with their phones out recording. She felt embarrassed just thinking about it.

To Be Continued… The Conclusion is Available Now!

Written By: S.M. Grady

© 2020 S.M. Grady

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