Topaz stepped up behind his chair and massaged his shoulders beneath the white tuxedo jacket. She indulged in the brief treat of toying with his gorgeous hair, before ordering herself to step away. She was about to take a seat in the opposite chair when he caught her hand and pulled her onto his lap.
“Alex?” she gasped, taken totally off guard by the action. “Alex?” she called again when he hugged her tightly. “Sweetie, what is it?” she whispered, after they’d embraced close to three minutes.
Suddenly, Alex cleared his throat and pulled back a little. “Sorry, um, I didn’t mean ... I have to tell you something.”
Topaz was in no mood for high emotion or upset that day, but knew she had to give him this chance. “Go on,” she said.
“It’s about that day you came to see me at the paper.”
“Alex, no,” she blurted, knowing this was one thing she didn’t want to discuss.
His hold tightened around her waist when she would have moved away. “Baby, we never discussed it ... that night I came to your place.”
“But this isn’t the place or the time.”
“I’d been in the worst mood for a long time,” Alex went on, dismissing Topaz’s words. “Clif thought it was because of what happened between you and me... .”
Topaz was puzzled, her own curiosity piqued. “What was it?”
Alex leaned back in his chair and braced his elbow on the arm. “I’d been tryin’ to make a decision and I think I finally made it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve been thinking about going to the police, Topaz.”
“The police.”
Alex studied the imprint woven into the material of Topaz’s cream satin dress. “I told you that I never paid for any of the things I did ... back then.”
Topaz went cold as realization hit her like a spray of cold water. “Are you saying that you’ve been thinking about turning yourself in or something?”
“Not thinking about it anymore. I’m doing it.”
“What for?” she snapped, leaning down to cup his face in her hands when he didn’t respond. “Alex, what would this prove now? What about your therapy?”
“I don’t feel it’s working,” he replied in a stubborn tone.
Topaz pursed her lips. “You don’t feel it’s working or you don’t feel it’s working fast enough for you?”
Alex pulled her hands away. “I have to do something. I think this is why I can’t get myself completely together—guilt is a hard thing to be rid of.”
“And you think going to jail for who knows how long would rid you of this guilt?”
“Topaz, I killed people. Do you remember me telling you that?” he pointedly asked, his gaze boring into her. “No matter how you slice it, it’s murder, and murderers go to jail.”
Topaz turned on Alex’s lap and brought her face closer to his. “Murderers go to jail to do time for the crimes they’ve committed, but most people who send them there also send them in hopes that they can be rehabilitated.”
“Topaz, don’t tell me you believe that crap?”
“I do.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “Well, I don’t. I got to find peace in my life. You don’t know what it’s like to live with this.”
“And you think prison is the place to find this peace?” she persisted. “I always thought you were a smart man. I can’t believe I was so wrong about that,” she whispered, finally accepting that she could no longer watch him destroy himself.
“I guess you’ll do what you want,” she sighed, blinking back the tears pressuring her eyes. “You’ll do what you feel is best. No matter how stupid it is. I can only hope you’ll think twice about talking to the police and go to someone who can really help you.” She sniffled and traced the sleek line of his eyebrow. “Whatever you decide, I pray it does bring you the peace you’re searching for.” She pulled his head to her chest and kissed his temple. “You take care of yourself, you hear?” she ordered, her voice breaking on a sob. Quickly, she pulled away, leaving Alex alone.
EIGHTEEN
Six months later ...
“... and a little grated cheese on the side.”
“Thank you, sir. This won’t take long, gentlemen.”
Clifton Knowles nodded and passed his menu to the petite waitress. His eyes narrowed then, as he leaned back against his seat. “Well, I have to say I’m glad you decided to resume those sessions. Jails sure don’t need another black man.”
“I can only pray the decision I made was the right one.”
“How many more sessions do you have?”
Alex smiled. “Five more,” he answered, folding his arms across the front of his burgundy knit top. Aside from Lynetia Rice—Alex’s mother—and Topaz, Clif Knowles was the only other soul who knew about the therapy. Topaz and Clif, however, were the only ones who knew about his decision to talk with the police.
“It helpin’ any?”
Tapping his fingers along the side of his water glass, Alex gazed out over the crowd of lunch eaters in the dining room. “Yes,” he finally replied in a firm voice as he thought back over the past five months.
