“Yes, sir.”
Pops gave me a stern look to make sure I was listening to the wisdom he was giving me. He sat on the couch, with his arms around my daughters. He was wearing his black cargo pants and his polished black combat boots.
I was a carbon copy of my father, with the same features, the same dark skin, and the same stocky build. Even though he’d been retired from the marines for years, he was always clean shaven and neatly dressed. Pops was very direct and commanding, traits he’d learned while in the marines.
I suddenly realized that for him to make that statement, Chloe must’ve done or said something he didn’t like before she left with Karen.
“What happened with Chloe, Pops?”
“That girl Chloe was cursing up a storm in front of your kids, and she was dressed like a damn harlot. Do you want your daughters growing up to be like that?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Fix it.” All of a sudden, he coughed violently and clutched his chest.
“You okay, Pops?”
“I’m fine,” he said, gritting his teeth.
My father never wanted to be seen as weak and never wanted anyone to think he was. The girls were nodding off on the couch, so I lifted them up one by one and put them to bed. Then I went back into the living room.
“Pops?” I said as I stood near the couch.
“Yeah?”
“I’ve been saving money to take us to Cancún for a vacation. I want you to come with us.”
“I got work to do, boy.”
I had to patch up my marriage. I wanted Pops to relax and have fun, but I also needed him there to watch the girls so that I could have alone time with Karen.
“Pops, I need this. Between stress from bills and problems with Karen, if I don’t do something, I’m going to fall apart.”
“Stop sounding soft. I didn’t raise no punk. I raised you to be stronger than that. If you have bills, then you work to pay them. You’re a man. If you’re having problems with your wife, you fix it. End of story.”
I stood up straight and wiped all emotion off my face. My father never wanted to hear about my feelings or my problems. He always treated me like he was disappointed in me.
“I’m not soft. I need time to relax with my family. There’s nothing wrong with wanting that.”
Pops sat in silence and stared at me long and hard, studying me for what felt like an eternity. He did this often to see if people were lying to him. I didn’t break eye contact. I wanted him to see I was being truthful. I think he saw the desperation on my face.
“I’ll go. Whatever problems you’re having with Karen, fix them on the trip. If you see something stirring, nip it in the bud, before it grows.”
“Yes, sir.”
We discussed the plans for the job we were handling in the morning some more, but my thoughts were on Karen the whole time. At least one of us was having fun tonight.
Karen
“All right, girl. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Lindsey said when she was dropping me off in front of my house.
“Ugh. Thank God you were the designated driver tonight. We wouldn’t have made it home if it were me. I have a hangover already,” I moaned.
“Well, rest up. Good night, bestie.”
“Good night,” I said and giggled uncontrollably as I climbed out of her Mercedes-Benz.
I was drunk as shit. I walked on wobbly legs to the front door, then stood there and fumbled in my purse for my keys. I finally found my house keys, and after several attempts to put the key into the lock, I opened the door and stumbled inside. I tried my best to creep up the steps without making too much noise and waking up my family. I glanced at my watch; it was four in the morning. I had had a great night partying with Raheem and my girls, but the aftereffects were kicking my ass. I rushed into the bathroom, lifted the toilet seat, and threw up. As I leaned on the toilet, my head draped over the bowl, I thought about Raheem and Tyrell, and about how my cheating had started three years ago.
* * *
The cheating had started innocently enough. What led up to it was a simple trip to the mall. Chris and I were driving to Roosevelt Field Mall in Garden City to get outfits for my company’s Christmas party. As usual, he criticized everything I did as I drove.
“Jesus, babe. Can you speed the fuck up? You drive too damn slow,” he groused.
“I didn’t know we were in a rush to get to the mall,” I said snidely.
“We’re not, but it seems like you’re purposely taking your sweet-ass time.”
“Next time, you fucking drive, then. Better yet, we can take separate cars, so I don’t have to hear you complain.”
“Damn. You’re extra bitchy today. Is it that time of the month?”
“Chris . . . ooh.” I punched the steering wheel. “I can’t deal with you right now.”
“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”
We continued bickering over petty bullshit. We finally parked, walked inside the mall, and roamed around Express, looking for outfits.
I was feeling a dress I had tried on until Chris looked at me and scrunched up his face.
“What?” I asked, feeling self-conscious.
“You like that one, huh?”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s not bad, but it’s not the most flattering on you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I huffed.
“I’m just saying, it’s a little clingy, and it makes you look chunky.”
Chris’s job was physically strenuous. He did a lot of manual labor, which kept him fit and sexy. I mostly sat at a desk all day at my job.
Tears welled up in my eyes. I was coming apart at the seams, but I’d be damned if I’d cry here and embarrass myself in public. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, went into the dressing room, took off the dress, came back out, and slammed the dress back on the rack.
“Are you happy now?” I asked him.
“Stop being so sensitive.”
“Stop being such an asshole, you insensitive prick. You know I’ve been dieting. I’ve lost fifteen pounds.”
“I know, and that’s good, but you still have a little ways to go, and that outfit wasn’t your best, that’s all I’m saying. I’m not trying to be a dick about it,” he said.
“It’s too late for that.”
Chris threw up his hands and walked away.
As we went from store to store, Chris thought he was being discreet when he checked out other women, but I noticed. It made me feel insecure when I saw him staring at women who looked like the size I used to be when I first met him.
An hour later we went home and got ready for the party. I put on a dress that I knew he liked, and then fixed my hair in the bathroom mirror. Chris came into the bathroom and sprayed on his Polo Sport cologne and then shook his head as he passed by me.
“What is it now, Chris?”
“If you’re going to give me a fucked-up attitude, don’t worry about it.”
“Say what you want to say.”
“Your hair looks better when you wear it up with that dress.”
Out of frustration, I styled my hair the way he wanted it. I felt like I was always doing things the way he wanted them done. It seemed like he didn’t like me anymore, and nothing I did was ever good enough for him.
I stood in the doorway of our bedroom while he fixed his tie in the mirror above the dresser.
“You never acknowledge any of the positive things I do or the good qualities I have. You’re always quick to comment on my flaws. You don’t appreciate what I sacrifice to make you happy,” I said.
“Look, drop this drama-queen shit. I’m not fighting with you before we go to this party. I didn’t mean anything bad by it, all right?”
I put the argument on hold for the time being. I knew that was his way of saying he was sorry, but that wasn’t an apology to me.
During the entire thirty-minute ride to the party, neither of us said a word.
The radio was off, and we were both lost in our thoughts. Once we got there, we went through the motions and acted like the perfect happy couple, but I was still angry with him and hurting inside.
But when we got home, I decided to put all our bickering aside and make love to my husband. While Chris pleased me sexually, our busy work schedules had reduced our lovemaking to mundane quickies. I knew if I was bored, he had to be too.
To spice things up, I had read magazines, watched porn, and gathered tips from my friends. He loved lacy lingerie, so I wore my black bustier, my black French-cut panties, and fishnet stockings. I lit scented candles and put on soft jazz to set the ambiance in the bedroom. Chris walked in, and his face lit up.
“Damn!” he said.
He tugged on my lingerie to take it off. I couldn’t hide my smile. His hands hungrily roamed my body.
“Easy, baby. Enjoy what you’re looking at.”
I felt self-conscious as he groped me, because his earlier comment about me looking chunky kept replaying in my mind.
We made love. I used a lot of the new ideas I had come across to spice things up, but he didn’t seem to notice. Chris always had the decency to make sure I came, but again, we ended up having another quickie, because he had to wake up early the next morning. He rolled over on his side of the bed and went to sleep almost immediately after. I frowned, shook my head, and stared at the ceiling. Was it me? Was this how marriage was supposed to be? Had we both gotten too comfortable?
I decided I would start going to the gym and would get a personal trainer. I hoped working with a trainer would boost my self-esteem and change me enough that even Chris would have to say something positive about the improvements. I didn’t imagine then how much it would change me.
* * *
“All right. Give me two more reps,” Ken ordered.
“I hate you! You said that ten reps ago.”
“Yeah, yeah, just give me two more.”
“No.”
“Keep it up and we’re going to do another set.” His full lips parted into a smile, revealing his beautiful straight white teeth. I fantasized about kissing those soft lips every time he told me to do an exercise.
I was working out at Lifetime Fitness with my trainer Ken Ferguson. His dark skin tone and his mannerisms had drawn me to him because he reminded me so much of Chris. Word around the gym was he did more than just train his clients. I had no intention of doing anything sexual with him. I was a married woman. I thought of him as eye candy, since Chris was always working.
Back then, I thought that if I ever cheated on Chris, the sky would darken, rain would pour down on me, and I’d turn into a horrible monster. But I was lonely and vulnerable. I didn’t feel sexy anymore. I knew that over the years, I had slipped up a bit and I had let myself go. I didn’t intend to cheat on Chris, but I loved the hungry way Ken looked at me. He made me feel desired and wanted. I would often catch him undressing me with his eyes and staring at my ass. Ken always complimented me and made me feel good about myself. Suddenly I started wanting more out of my boring life. I knew about Ken’s reputation around the gym, but I didn’t care. Curiosity was starting to get the best of me.
“What are you doing after the gym tonight?” Ken asked me after I did two more reps.
“Nothing really. Probably going home to play with the kids and relax with my husband.”
“You can do that any night. Hang out with me tonight.”
My heart fluttered. It was obvious that he was hitting on me. Hanging out with him would be wrong, but I needed some excitement. I wanted to feel liberated from my stagnant marriage. I knew I shouldn’t, but I enjoyed our constant flirting and the chemistry that we had between us. I should have said no, but instead I broke down and agreed to see him.
“I’m sure I can sneak out for the night. Where are we going?” I said.
“I’m taking you to eat the best food you’ve ever tasted.”
“That’s a bold statement. What restaurant are you taking me to?”
“You’ll see.”
I couldn’t remember the last time Chris had taken me out on a date night. Lately, his idea of a romantic evening was taking me and the girls to Olive Garden and ordering wine for me and for him.
After my workout session, I showered and changed back into my work clothes. I hesitated about calling Chris. I finally made the call in a stall in the bathroom, because it was less noisy. Was I seriously about to lie to my husband?
“Hey, honey,” I said.
“Hey. What time are you getting home?”
“That’s why I’m calling you. There are major outages in Seaford. The powers that be said they need a supervisor to stay until we get everything back online. I have to stay late tonight.”
“Damn, that sucks. All right. I’ll hold it down with the kids. I’ll try to wait up for you.”
“Okay. See you when I get home.”
“Love you, babe.”
“I love you too.”
I ended the call.
I couldn’t believe I had just lied to my husband so I could go on a date, but damn, Ken was so handsome. And he had this swagger and air about him that I was feeling. I figured I’d amuse him and myself by toying with him and flirting a little bit. Maybe I would be more turned on and would fuck Chris’s brains out when I got home. I tried not to think about the wrong I was doing and walked back to the personal training office to meet Ken.
We left my car at the gym and drove off in his S-Class Mercedes. I was impressed that he was doing so well financially as a trainer.
My conscience was eating at me the entire ride. This wasn’t me. I had second thoughts but figured since I’d already gone this far, I might as well go through with it. We ended up at a condo complex in Garden City.
“This doesn’t look like a restaurant to me. Where are we?” I said.
He smiled. “I’m making you dinner at my place.”
At first, I thought he had some damn nerve trying to be slick and presumptuous, thinking he was going to get some ass from me by charming me and taking me to his house. He was bold to take me to his place, but there was a part of me that enjoyed being courted.
I shot him a look. “You think you’re slick!” I smiled.
“What?” Ken asked, looking off to the side, trying to conceal his laugh.
“Don’t play dumb. You know why you’re slick. You had this planned the whole time that you were taking me here.”
He didn’t deny it, but he had a smirk on his face.
“Well, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but the only thing you’re going to be feeding me tonight is food. Now, come on.” I laughed.
We got out of the car and walked into his condo, and my eyes scanned everything.
“I can’t believe you’re so neat,” I said.
He chuckled. “I’m not. I’m actually a slob. I pay Molly Maid to clean my place three times a week.”
“Damn. I wish I could afford to do that. At home, I’m the maid.”
“Well, tonight you’re my guest. Relax and make yourself comfortable.”
I watched Ken walk into the kitchen. He was young but well versed. Most of the guys I’d met at the gym were complete dummies who could barely put together an intelligible sentence. A part of what attracted me to Ken was his intellect. If I had to describe him in one word, that word would be charming.
I heard the clatter of pots and pans as I strolled around his living room and looked over his CD and Blu-ray collections. He had a beautiful black leather sectional couch and a fifty-two-inch flat-screen TV, which was mounted to the wall above his fireplace and came with a home theater system. His apartment was nice but very manly. His rack of movies consisted mostly of action and horror films, and his music collection was primarily hip-hop. A large portion of his living room served as his personal gym. He had an elliptical, a treadmill, and a spin bike in one corner, while his free weights, his kettlebells, and a weight bench were in another. I noticed he had only one framed picture in his liv
ing room. I picked it up and looked closely at it.
I figured the woman in the photo had to be his mother.
“Do you like my place?” he whispered in my ear.
I jumped. I had had no idea he was behind me. He scared the shit out of me. I clutched my chest.
“Jesus, I didn’t hear you come in here,” I said.
“Sorry.”
“Very impressive. You’ve done very well for yourself.”
He smiled. “Thank you. You can turn on the TV if you want, or you can keep me company in the kitchen while I cook.”
“I’ll keep you company.”
His kitchen was immaculate. While gazing around in the kitchen, I was struck by his beautiful marble countertops, his rich mahogany wood cabinets, and his state-of-the-art stainless-steel appliances.
I sat on top of his marble counter while Ken made penne alla vodka from scratch. Watching a man cook was very sexy to me. Halfway through his preparations, he fed me a spoonful of the sauce he was making.
“Oh my God! This tastes amazing. Damn. Did you go to culinary school or something?” I said.
“Nah. I used to date a girl who loved to cook. I’m a big believer in self-improvement. Whenever I date someone who has something they can teach me, I’m eager to learn. Now, close your eyes. I want you to taste something else.”
I quivered at his request. I closed my eyes, anticipating being fed something delicious, but I gasped when I felt his lips press against mine. I wanted to pull away, but instead I savored the warmth of his soft, full lips. It reminded me of how Chris used to kiss me. I opened my eyes slowly. I couldn’t get over how much he resembled my husband. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I was attracted to him.
After he finished cooking, we ate by candlelight at his oak dining table. We drank chardonnay and talked about all types of topics, with the last one leading to a discussion of sex.
Before I knew it, we were standing in his bedroom. I put my arms around his neck and brought my mouth to his soft, plump lips. We kissed hungrily, hardly coming up for air, while our hands roamed and groped each other’s bodies. In my mind, I knew this was wrong and I should stop him, but this was the passion I craved. This was what I was missing with Chris. I’d never done anything like what I felt I was about to do, but I was already past the point of no return. I figured I’d just deal with the guilt later. I closed my eyes to block out these thoughts.
Love and Happiness Page 5
