Always Wrong - Xyla Turner Page 0,39

mate.”

“Well, I mean, you practically said it yourself,” he added. “You’re bloody in love. Crickey. Give that lass a ring and go on a honeymoon so nosy Harvey and his wife aren’t ringing my phone asking about you courting Sheryl South.”

“Crikey is bloody right.” I shook my head at those two but let the other words he said linger as my entire body became like a live wire.

The words kept circulating in my head over and over, to the point that I blurted, “I need a bloody shrink.”

“Don’t we all,” Noah chuckled. “Maxine and I are going to see a marriage counselor next week.”

“Damn, you just got married.” I jerked my head back.

“Yeah, and we want to stay married,” he added. “We’re in this, but there’s nothing wrong with getting some help and guidance along the way.”

Ha.

“Noah. Mate.” I shook my head. “I think you might be on to something. Okay, thanks for letting me pop by. I got to go.”

Noah opened his door, then he sighed and said, “One more thing. I know you mentioned this idea came from Sheryl having a miscarriage, but have you dealt with that loss too. I was just reading an article about how men are often the forgotten grievers in miscarriages. Women usually show their emotions and even though Sheryl can be tough as nails, that shit can sting. However, you aren’t exempt from that grief too, mate.”

Bloody hell.

Why hadn’t I talked to him earlier?

Turning my head to look at the luxurious houses in front of me, the immaculate gardens and landscaping that I shook my head and sort of realized that all that I had done was to avoid the grief. I as a doer, but that did not take away from the emotion.

Loss.

“Thank you, Noah.” I nodded and turned my head so he could see. “Thank you for being a good mate.”

“Glad I could be of service,” he commented before getting out of my car. “Call me before you go back.”

“Yeah.”

One of my favorite spots in Philadelphia was the overlook near Penns Landing. It was a coveted place, and only a few cars went out there, but it was where I sat and begin to think, plan, and formulate a plan of action. That’s who I was. A doer. I made shit happen, and when I couldn’t do that is when my world became unfamiliar.

After a couple of hours, I decided to text Sheryl. The goal was to give her a choice and go against my base instinct, which was to go to her bloody job and make her see me.

Me: Sheryl, I’m at the waterfront and I’ve had some thoughts that I would like to discuss with you. Will you meet me here?

There was no response for almost fifteen minutes. My plan was to stay there for as long as possible. Until she agreed, really.

Old habits were hard to break.

Sheryl: ok

Thirty minutes later, a car pulled up next to my vehicle, and it was then that I saw Sheryl South pull up in her luxury truck and Phil was nowhere in sight.

“Why are you so hard-headed?” She started this conversation with a side-eye as she remained in her vehicle.

Giving her a nod, I replied, “We need to talk. There are some things I wanted to share with you.”

“Same here.” She cut off the truck and proceeded to get out.

With me leaning on my rental and her leaning on her car with one parking spot in between us, she waved for me to go first. Shaking my head, I said, “No, you go.”

“I have thought long and hard about this thing, and I don’t think I can do this with you,” she began, and I nodded my head in agreement. “It was a noble idea, but the reality of this is not going to work. It would be my counter proposal that if we do want to have a child, that we do one of two things. Go to a sperm bank and do it that way or…”

This was when I pushed off the car and began to move toward her. That move caused Sheryl to stop talking, and she held up her hand.

“No, stop, Jacquez.” She was shaking her head. “Let me finish before you start all of your alpha-madness.”

“Go on and finish.” I remained where I was and began to lower myself to the ground.

“What the hell are you doing?” she gasped, with big eyes and an open mouth.

“Go ahead and finish,” I urged her, but remained on one