For almost a year, I had only been to a dinner meeting with Damien’s connect and his wife. Aside from going to the grocery store or department stores, I never left the house. My main reason for being a hermit was that Damien had basically locked me in, but I was also so depressed that I never wanted to go anywhere. I knew it wasn't healthy, but neither was my relationship with that lying, cheating, narcissistic, abusing bastard.
“Then it’s settled. We’re about to have some fun.”
“I don’t think that's a good idea.”
“Why? You want to go back to that house and wallow in misery? Word of advice, Miss Jela. A nigga is only going to do what you allow him to.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’d expect that coming from you. You look like you like to break hearts too.”
“Another word of advice: Don’t judge a nigga by his looks.”
“I think I know better than that now.”
“Good. So, you down or what?”
I fiddled with the strap on my Birkin as I thought about it. I was tired of being in that depressing castle with that fire-breathing dragon. I never got the chance to actually explore Muskegon because I didn’t know anyone here. Now that I had an opportunity to do so, I was going to take it. Fuck Damien.
“Yeah… I guess so.”
“Cool. Let me show you around and show you a good time.”
We arrived at a place calledGo-Time. When we walked inside, it looked like an adult arcade and bar. The neon lighting and vibe were something I’d never seen before. Truce walked up to the counter, paid for our wristbands, took the map they gave him, and then took me by the hand. There was laser tag, a wax museum, a tennis court, a volleyball area, virtual rooms, an escape room, a haunted train ride, and even a freaking mini-amusement park. I couldn't see what was beyond the other side of the wall, but it looked to be a bar and lounge of some sort. Seeing people coming out with drinks in their hands and smiling made me feel normal. I had never seen anything like this place, and thoughts of my grimy fiancé and his infidelity slowly began to dissipate.
“What do you want to do first?” Truce asked.
“Um… I want to go to the wax museum first.”
“A’ight, let’s roll.” He grabbed my hand again, leading me toward the entrance of the museum. “I’m going to let you know right now that we’re doing everything. I hope you're not afraid of heights.”
“I’m not.”
He smiled at me. “Good.”
We flashed our wristbands to the attendant standing near the entrance and gained entry. The first wax figure I saw was the infamous Michael Jackson from his music video “Thriller.” The more we walked around, the more excited I became. It felt nice to get out and do something for a change, and I was glad that Truce had invited me.
“Just so I won’t forget, I want to say thank you in advance. I appreciate you for this.”
“It’s nothing. Anything to make you smile.” He smirked and winked at me as we continued browsing the museum.
After seeing multiple celebrities in wax form, we did the escape room. I got scared halfway through because I thought, for sure, we’d never get out. After putting our minds together, we were able to solve the puzzles to get out. From there, we went to the amusement park, rode the rides, played the games, and won my Scottie a brown teddy bear that I was able to fit inside my purse. We decided to sit down and eat next, since we hadn't eaten since breakfast. He ordered macho nachos that we decided to split. Truce ordered some wings and fries as well. I asked him why he ordered so much food, and he replied that he was a big man. That was true—big, tall, fine, and sexy as ever.
“So, what do you do for a living?” I asked him, sliding a nacho in my mouth.
“I’m an architect and builder. I design homes and make the buyer's dreams come true.”
“Wow. That's pretty cool.”
“Thanks. It’s always been a dream of mine. My late father was a designer and builder, so I got the creative niche from him.”
“You and Damien don’t have the same father?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I spent most of my time at my pops’ crib growing up, so Dame and I would only see each other during the summer or winter breaks. My dad didn’t want me around Dame’s father too much, so they came up with the agreement that he’d take the majority of custody, and my moms got to have me for the summer. When my pops passed away, of course, I had to move in with my moms full-time. That's when shit became a little tense.”
“How’s that?”
“Dame’s pops used to abuse our moms. Even before I officially moved in with them, those summer months I stayed, I’d peep him being too controlling. Then, when my pops died, Inoticed a change in my mom. She would be depressed, stressed, and walking funny most of the time. At first, I had no clue what was going on until I peeped her black eye. I used to hear her crying and screaming some nights, but I couldn't do shit about it because I was eight, while Dame was six. I was around sixteen when I told that nigga I’d kill him if he put his hands on her again. My threat went ignored because he started hitting her in places we couldn't see, and he’d do it when we weren't home.
“One night, I walked in the house and caught his ass stomping her out. I took a crowbar to his legs, breaking his shit, then made him get the fuck out. Seeing my moms lying on the floor, face swollen and bloody, did something to me. It’s now a trigger for me to see women in domestic violence relationships.”
