The Ex Project by Nia Arthurs

Chapter Thirty-Five

Yolanda tiptoedinto Tay-Tay’s room. His java lamp threw rainbow lights on the ground. A thick navy quilt was pushed to the edge of the bed. Belize’s temperatures were too hot to use blankets for anything outside of decoration.

“Mom,” Tay-Tay called out.

“I’m right here, honey.”

“I don’t feel good.” He coughed. “My head hurts.”

“Sit up, baby. Let me give you some medicine.” She set the cold medicine on the drawer and helped Tay-Tay to sit upright. Propping the pillows behind him so he was comfortable, she poured some of the liquid into a spoon and pushed it toward his mouth.

Tay-Tay wrinkled his nose.

“Come on, baby,” she cajoled. “You have to take it.”

“I don’t want to.”

She sighed softly. Tay-Tay was always mature… until he got sick. For some reason, her son turned into a baby whenever he was under the weather.

Yolanda smiled patiently. “I have hot chocolate downstairs. As soon as you finish your medicine, I’ll go down to get it.”

Tay-Tay scrunched his lips adorably.

She was glad to find she could still smile. The days felt so long since her fight with Duane. She missed him with every breath in her body but, as a mother, she didn’t have the luxury of breaking down. Yolanda still had to care for her son and be everything to him. The way she was before Duane. And the way she would be long after.

It helped to keep her hands busy. At least, when she was taking care of Tay-Tay and searching for Zaka, her heart didn’t hurt as much.

Now that football practice was canceled, she and Tay-Tay had to spend a lot more time together. And the search for Zaka… Yolanda had exhausted all the leads she could on her own. She was seriously considering giving the case over to Carl, who would be a lot less… bound by the legal side of things.

Focusing on Tay-Tay, she offered him the spoon. “Medicine for hot chocolate. Do we have a deal?”

“How about we watch movies too?”

“Movies?” Her eyebrows hiked. “It’s after ten o’clock, young man. You need to sleep if you want to get better.”

“Mom, I can’t sleep. I’ve been trying.”

She stared at his petulant face and narrowed her eyes. “One thirty minute episode of your favorite show.”

“Thirty minutes? That’s nothing.”

“Take it or leave it.”

He huffed. “Fine.”

She patted his leg and headed downstairs with the spoon he licked clean, the medicine bottle and his empty glass of water. As she passed the kitchen, her phone pinged with a message.

Yolanda’s heart surged before she reminded herself that it definitely wouldn’t be Duane. They were taking a break and she didn’t know if that was code for an official break-up or not. Right now, she didn’t want to think about anything but her son.

All the men in Tay-Tay’s life had disappointed him. She didn’t want to be another one of the people who broke his heart.

There was another ping.

Curious, Yolanda inched closer to her cell phone when her son yelled from upstairs, “Mom, can we have popcorn too?”

“No, we cannot!” she yelled back, stunned by his audacity. Was this child really sick?

“Please, mom!”

“If you have popcorn, you’ll have to go to sleep immediately.”

He went silent.

“Thought so,” she said smugly. Turning away from the phone, Yolanda put the hot chocolate on a tray and headed back upstairs.

Tay-Tay was reclined in bed, his feet tucked under the quilt and his arms folded over his scrawny chest. He had his tablet set up and a video already loaded.

She climbed into bed with him and then pulled a thin sheet over her because she missed Duane and snuggling with her little one felt like the best medicine for her heart.

Tay-Tay allowed her to pull him close, which was a sure sign that he didn’t feel well. By the end of the episode, his little eyes were drifting shut.

She rested her head on his, feeling the exhaustion of the day tugging on her shoulders and making her body heavy.

“Mom,” Tay-Tay whispered after a beat of silence.

“Mm?”

“Is coach mad at me?”

Her head whipped up and she stared at her son. “Honey, no. He’s not mad at you. Why would you say that?”

“That day, he told me he would come over for tacos and he didn’t. Dad does the same thing all the time.” Tay-Tay played with the hem of his shirt, a nervous tick that she hadn’t seen in a long time. “Is it my fault. Did I…” His little voice hitched. “Did I do something?”

She gathered him to her chest, fighting back her emotions. “Sweetheart, you didn’t do anything. Nothing at all. Do you hear me? None of this is your fault. Not a single part of it.”

“I miss going to football, mom.” He tucked his head into her shoulder. “I miss coach. I don’t want him to be mad.”

She couldn’t swallow. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but hold her son and rock him and whisper that no one was angry at him. She hated that Tay-Tay carried this burden. It wasn’t his load to bear.

Kissing his temple, she murmured, “No matter what happens with me or your dad or your coach, it’s always gonna be you and me, alright?” She squeezed him tight. “We’re always gonna have each other’s backs.”

He nodded.

She held her son until his eyelids started fluttering. Tay-Tay was falling asleep, but her tortured thoughts chased her into stone-cold sobriety. The truth was harsh, and she had to face it.

Duane was too important to her child. The very reason she’d shied away from getting involved with him was to shield her son from more disappointment.

She had failed to do that.

She had failed to protect him.

That was unforgivable.

The price for being in a relationship was far too high. Could she offer her son as collateral? Could she sacrifice his happiness just to have her own?

“I want to see coach,” Tay-Tay murmured, half-awake.

“What?” She leaned forward.

“I want him… to be my dad.”

Her heart seized and she stared down at her son, stunned by the fact that he would call out for Duane instead of his own father. Tay-Tay’s eyes closed completely and his breathing deepened.

She wondered if the sleepy ramblings of a sick, little seven-year-old could be believed. Why would Tay-Tay call for Duane?

Yolanda cuddled closer to her son and thought of Duane’s connection with Tay-Tay. Since that first day of football practice, she’d seen a difference in her son. Duane had patiently eked out a happier, more vibrant side of her child.

In his own, limited way, Duane took over when both she and Devon failed to show up, mentoring Tay-Tay and offering both discipline and guidance when he got into that fight with Yanique.

Had that been enough to win her son’s heart completely? Her smile was bitter-sweet. It seemed Duane had found a way to make both mother and son fall in love with him.

“Do you really like your coach that much, Tay-Tay?” she whispered.

He scrunched his nose and murmured in his sleep.

“I’ll get him back for us,” she said.

His lips eased into a peaceful smile.

She kissed her son’s head and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Yolanda wokethe next morning because of a pressing pain in her stomach. Her eyes fluttered open. Sunlight blasted her in the face and she got a good look at her son’s mouth, open and drooling on his pillow.

The object pushing into her stomach was his leg, hiked up and poised to kick her off the bed.

Yolanda stretched, moaning when her bones cracked. Tay-Tay must have been steadily pushing her closer and closer to the edge of the bed all night. Pain flared all over her body. She felt like she’d been wrestling with a bear.

Rolling out of bed, she landed on her feet and checked on her son once more. His smooth brown skin looked like burnished mahogany. His hands were extended on the bed as if he was running in his dreams.

She wanted to kiss him but feared she would wake him. Turning instead, she tiptoed back to her room in search of her phone.

When a glance at her drawer didn’t reveal the device, she went in search for it before remembering that she’d left it downstairs last night.

“I wonder if I got any important calls,” Yolanda murmured, hiding a yawn behind her hand.

She spotted the phone on the counter and swiped it, casually searching through her new messages.

One particular note stopped her in her tracks.

It was from Duane.

Her eyes widened and her heart started beating fast. Curious, she tapped on the video message first. A picture popped up and her eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

“Is that Ong Sung-hoon?” Yolanda squealed.

On her phone screen, in beautiful, high-definition, the famous K-pop artist waved and spoke in Korean. “Annyeong haseyo, Yolanda-shi.” He dipped his head and his cotton-candy blue hair fell like gentle fronds before his eyes.

Yolanda paused the video to squeal again.

No way.

This was not real.

She pulled the video back and stared, wide-eyed as Ong Sung-hoon greeted her in Korean and dipped his head politely. Heart pounding, she stumbled back against the counter.

“I have to call Giselle and Latoya. This isn’t real.” She pulled the video back again and heard Ong Sung-hoon’s delightful Korean greeting. “Get a grip, Yolanda. You have to watch the rest of it.”

Her belly was frothing with excitement and she didn’t want to press play. It was such a wonderful gift already. Could she handle any more of Ong Sung-hoon telling her hello? If it got any better, she would burst.

Forcing herself to take a steady breath, she tapped her thumb on the play icon. The video continued with Ong Sung-hoon talking in heavily accented English.

“Are you doing well?” He smiled sweetly at the camera and she almost died. “I heard you are a big fan of mine. Thank you so much.” Ong Sung-hoon clutched his chest and dipped his head again. “Ah… someone would like me to give you a message.”

“Hm?” Her eyebrows hiked.

“I promise I will never let you go,” Ong Sung-hoon’s eyes darted to the left as if he was reading off a script. “You are both safe with me.” Ong Sung-hoon smiled so that his eyes became beautiful half-moons. “Continue to be well, Yolanda-shi.” He said goodbye in Korean and then the video clicked off.

In a daze, Yolanda played Duane’s message delivered through Ong Sung-hoon’s voice. She did it over and over again.

You are both safe with me.

You are both.

Both.

He was talking about her and Tay-Tay.

She finally clicked out of the video and saw there was a message. Her eyes bulged and she shot forward. “He’s leaving tomorrow? When did he send this?” Thumb moving rapidly, she checked the details.

The time stamp was last night.

Yolanda gasped and checked her watch. It was after nine in the morning. She had forty minutes to find a sitter for Tay-Tay and get to the airport.

Shooting up the stairs like her feet were on fire, she dove into her closet and tore clothes off the hangers while dialing her mom.

“Hello,” Jada answered daintily.

“Mom, can you come over now! I need someone to watch Tay-Tay. He’s sick and he’s resting and—”

“Of course, but what’s wrong?”

“Now, mom. I’ll explain later, but I need you to come now!”

“Alright. Alright. I’m on my way.”

Yolanda dashed into the bathroom to change into a new set of clothes. She couldn’t let Duane Marden leave Belize without telling him that he was safe with her too.