by Carl Weber
By now I felt like I was about to hyperventilate. How the fuck did I let her get away with this? I flipped to the next page to find out what else she had been up to.
Prince has started to act real funny whenever I’m around. I know it’s just a matter of time before he tells Melanie everything. But I’m not worried. I’ve devised a plan that will turn back any attempt he makes toward exposing me. And all it entails is a letter. A letter I’ll carry around with me for the next six months if need be.
That was it. I couldn’t read one more word. If I had, I would probably be going to jail for murder, and I had a baby to think about now. Desiree had cost me not only the best man I had ever been with, but the father of my child. Now, I wasn’t about to fight that bitch in my condition, but she was getting the fuck out my house. I picked up the phone and dialed Trent’s number.
“Hello.”
“Trent, I need you to come over and pick up Teddy and Katie for a few hours. I got something important I have to take care of.”
“Like what? Everything all right?”
“No, but I’ll explain it to you when you get here.”
“Aw’ight. I’m on my way.”
A couple hours later, I was sitting on the couch with Prince, feeling emotionally drained. Trent had come by like I’d asked. I gave him the short version of everything I’d learned in Desiree’s journal, then he went out to the hardware store and bought a new lock for my door. After he changed the lock for me, he took the kids and wished me luck. As soon as Trent was gone I’d called Prince and told him we really needed to talk. At first he was a little hesitant. I wasn’t sure he would even agree to see me after how I’d pushed him away in front of the clinic. But when I told him that I hadn’t gone through with the abortion, his attitude seemed to relax. I think he might have even been smiling on the other end of the phone, but he was doing his best to mask any feelings. I didn’t blame him, though. We’d both been really hurt by this whole mess. That was why I wanted him to come over to see if we could mend any of the damage that had been done. If there was any hope, I wanted us to be together not just for the sake of the child I was carrying but because of the love I have for him.
We’d talked through the whole thing about Desiree. Prince was relieved that I’d found the journal and I knew the truth, but he was still really hurt that I had believed Desiree in the first place. He understood the whole thing about her being my girl, but that wasn’t good enough. If there was any hope that Prince and I could get back together now, we had some serious trust issues to work out. I needed to believe that he was going to be faithful to me. But then again, now that the truth was out, he’d never really given me a reason to believe otherwise. So it was more important at this point that Prince could trust me. He needed to trust that I would have his back if an issue like this ever came up again. And the first step in proving that to him was to end my friendship with Desiree. That was gonna be no problem after what she’d done. In fact, I was looking forward to it. We waited for quite a while in silence until I heard her fumbling with the lock. When she couldn’t get in, she finally knocked.
I took my time getting up from the sofa to answer the door. “Who?”
“What you mean, who? It’s me. Let me in. Something’s wrong with the lock. My key won’t work.”
I opened the door and gave her a cross-eyed smirk as she entered.
“What’s wrong with the lock? And why are all those garbage bags out in the hallway?”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with the lock,” I snarled at her. “I just felt like changing it.”
She looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “For what?”
“To keep out unwanted visitors.”
“What? Prince still harassing you?” she asked nonchalantly.
It took everything I had not to smack her ass as she walked into the kitchen. She was lucky I was pregnant and had to worry about my child or I would have whooped her ass.
“No, Prince is right there in the living room.” I pointed at the sofa and Desiree’s jaw almost hit the ground as she did a triple take.
“What’s he doing here?” she asked defensively. She was too worried about herself to notice my attitude.
“He’s my baby’s father. He’s welcome here anytime he wants. Too bad I can’t say the same thing for you.”
Desiree took a step back. If she didn’t sense there was a problem before, she sure sensed it now. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shook my head from side to side. I might not be able to fight right now, but I sure could get ghetto when I wanted to. “It means get the fuck out my apartment. That’s what it means.”
“Your apartment?” She sucked her teeth. “Please. I pay rent here, too.”
“Well you should have put your name on the lease when I asked you to, because now you don’t live here no more. Oh, and that pile of garbage bags you asked about? That’s your shit. Every last funky bit of it.”
She was speechless for a few seconds as she looked with wet eyes from me to Prince and back to me. “What I do? Why you doing me like this for some nigga?”
“Why you calling him a nigga if you wanted him so bad?”
A look of fear flashed across her face for a second, but she recovered pretty quickly with her attitude. “Him? I don’t want him.” She gave Prince a look like something in the room smelled bad.
“Please, Desiree. I read your journal. And I know what you did.”
“You read my journal?” She looked pissed off, then realized she was the one in the wrong. “I was just—”
I cut her off. “Don’t lie, bitch, ’cause it ain’t working, okay?”
“I can’t fuckin’ believe you read my journal! That’s my private shit, Melanie!” She looked like she was about to step to me, but Prince got off the couch and headed toward us. Desiree stopped herself and offered one more threat.
“This shit ain’t over, Melanie.”
“Maybe not, but our friendship is.”
36
Trent
I walked out the Queens courthouse doors in need of a cigarette and some fresh air. I was greeted by my brother, Wil; my sister, Melanie; and Prince, who’d been back in my sister’s life ever since she kicked Desiree out. I was glad they were gonna try to make it work for the sake of their child.
No one spoke as I approached, but their faces told me everything I needed to know. They’d been talking about me. They’d been talking about this whole damn fiasco. I musta looked like a real loser right about then. And the last thing I wanted to do was look like a loser in front of Wil. Not after everything he’d gone through and still come out smelling like roses. I still don’t believe he wasn’t fucking that chick Mimi.
“Momma okay?” Wil asked.
“Yeah, she fine. She’s in there talking to Diane. She just wants to know what’s going on.”
“She ain’t the only one,” Melanie replied, rolling her eyes.
“Y’all seen her?” I asked, although I knew the answer. I took out my pack of cigarettes and nervously lit the last one.
“Nope. I don’t think she’s coming, Trent,” Prince replied honestly.
“Ain’t no think, Prince. She ain’t coming,” Melanie stated, checking her cell phone for the time. “It’s quarter to five. Now I know a bride’s supposed to be fashionably late but damn, this shit is ridiculous. She should have been here two hours ago.”
“She’s coming, Mel,” I snapped, looking her in the eyes. “Indigo loves me. She wouldn’t stand me up.” I’m not sure if I was trying to convince them or myself. Not that it mattered. I don’t think any of us was convinced.
“Have you tried to call her?” Wil encouraged.
“Yeah, three times. Maybe she was in the shower or something.” I pulled out my cell and dialed the house again. No answer.
“It’s time to face facts, Trent. I know it’s hard to believe, but you’ve been stood up.” Wil placed a big hand on my back and rubbed my shoulder. He was trying to be nice, but to me i
t was like torture.
I took a drag of my cigarette, then dropped it to the ground and stomped it out. I didn’t wanna believe it, but the truth was the truth. Indigo had made a fool out of me. I’d invited a small group of friends and family, including my mom, to see us get married at the courthouse. Only I’d been left looking like a fool at the altar. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Women didn’t do things like this to me. Not to me. I’m Trent Duncan.
“Aw’ight,” I told them. “Let’s go inside so I can tell Momma.”
I walked with my head down back into the courthouse to room 203 where they performed all the weddings. Wil, Melanie and Prince followed me. When I stepped in the room all eyes were upon me, and I had a hard time looking anyone in the face. I walked over to my mother and sat down next to her and placed my arm around her.
“What’s going on, son? Isn’t she coming?”
“Well, Mom.” I took one look in my mother’s face and I just couldn’t tell her the truth. I could not tell her that her son had been left at the altar. “Hold on, Momma, my phone is vibrating. Maybe it’s her.” I slid my phone off its belt holster and flicked it open as I stood up.
“Hello,” I said into the phone, then made a nasty face as I pretended to listen to someone. “Where have you been? Do you realize my entire family is here waiting for you?” I faked a look of concern as I pretended to listen. “Oh, is he all right?” I pretended to listen some more. “Okay, I’ll be right there. I love you too, baby.” I closed the phone slowly and looked sadly at my mother. She reached out and grabbed my hand.
“Is everything all right, son?”
“No, Momma, it’s not.” I furrowed my brow to show her how grim the fake situation was. “Everybody, can I have your attention?” All eyes were upon me. “I wanna thank you all for coming, but unfortunately we have to postpone the wedding.”
“Why, what happened?” my mother’s brother, Uncle Roy, asked.
“Indigo’s father had a car accident on his way up here from Maryland. He’s in critical condition.” From the expression on everyone’s faces, my performance must have been stellar. “Now there’s food and drink, which my brother, Wil, was so kind to provide, over at Momma’s house, so I hope you’ll stop by.”
My mother stood and kissed my cheek. “I’m sorry to hear about that girl’s father, son. But God works in mysterious ways. Maybe this was His way of telling you that next time you should get married in a church.” I never did tell Momma that I was the one who insisted on getting married in the courthouse. Indigo really wanted a big church wedding. I just figured that if we didn’t make a big production out of our wedding, maybe I could keep it a secret from Michelle and still get with her once she cooled down a bit.
“Come on, Momma. Let’s get you home.” Wil offered her a hand.
“Just a minute, Wil.” She turned toward me. “Trent, I know you say you love this girl, but maybe this is your chance to get back with Michelle so I can see my grandbaby.”
I didn’t reply. I just nodded. It wasn’t that Momma disliked Indigo so much. She just really missed being able to spend time with my son. Michelle had been true to her word since our fight. She’d kept Marcus not only from me, but my family, too. I hated to see how much it hurt my mother.
Ten minutes later, everyone had left except for Big Mike, who hadn’t said a word to me since he and Beverly arrived over three hours ago. He looked a little pissed off himself. Not that I could blame him. After the reception we were all supposed to go back to his place and meet with the people from Aggressive Records so Indigo could sign her contract and get her signing bonus. Mike’s cut was fifteen percent, plus whatever he was gonna make as producer.
“I gotta give it to you,” Mike told me, clapping his hands. “You really made the best outta a bad situation.”
“What are you talking about, Mike?”
“You know what I’m talking about. I’ve been working pretty close to Indigo these last few weeks. She told me her father died last year in a car accident.”
“Yeah, I know, but I didn’t know what else to say.”
“She skipped out on you, didn’t she?”
“I don’t know what happened, Mike. I left her at my house at 1:30 and she was fine. She was taking a shower and getting ready to put on her dress. She couldn’t wait to get down here. I don’t know what the hell happened.”
“Well you better find out and get her over to my house, ’cause those brothers over at Aggressive are bringing a check for seven hundred and fifty grand tonight.”
“Seven hundred grand!” I could hear the cash registers going off in my head. “Don’t worry, Mike. I’ll find her.” Any embarrassment I felt over being stood up vanished as I remembered my ultimate goal, the almighty dollar.
After two hours of driving around searching for Indigo, I finally just said, “fuck it,” and brought my ass on home. I must have sat in front of my apartment in my car for about twenty minutes, feeling sorry for myself. It’s not every day you get left at the altar and humiliated in front of your family, and then lose three quarters of a million dollars all in a five-hour period. So to say I was mad was an understatement. I was pissed the fuck off. And not only about the money. Hell, I could always get more money. What hurt the most was that I was such a bad judge of character. I really thought Indigo cared about me. The funny thing was, now that she seemed to be gone, I had to admit I kinda cared about her, too.
I got out the car and walked over to my door. When I stepped into my apartment and turned on the light I couldn’t believe my eyes. It looked like a war zone. Everything I owned, from my big screen TV to my brand new leather sofa, had been either broken to bits or shredded to pieces.
“Indigo!” I roared, but got no response. I was so pissed off that tears were coming out my eyes.
I walked down the hallway where I saw the light shining from my office. It was just as bad in there as in the living room. Maybe a little worse. She had smashed everything in the room, including the gold records that had been hanging on the walls. Then I saw the worst part of all. On top of my desk was a six-inch-high pile of ripped up business cards, which meant she had found my stash. I opened the closet door nervously, knowing what I would probably find. I was right, too. Every single fake plaque and degree I had was missing. If I hadn’t been sure before, now I was positive that I’d lost the money I was looking to get out of Indigo’s record deal. Even if I could find her, there wasn’t much chance I’d be able to convince her I really was a record exec. But damn, I still wanted my plaques and degrees back. I glanced at my ruined things. If she was out of the picture, I was gonna have to go on the hunt for a new sugar momma.
Damn, what the fuck did she do with those things? I was determined to find my shit, but I didn’t even know where to start. I walked back out my office and across the hall to my bedroom. The door was locked, which meant Indigo was probably in there.
“Indigo!” I banged on the door. “Indigo! Open this goddamned door!” I started pounding on the door even harder. “Open this fucking door!” I was so aggravated that I went back into my office, got a head of steam and ran into the bedroom door. The lock snapped with a loud crack and I fell to the floor onto a pile of shredded up clothes. I was ready to kill when I saw that the lapel to my favorite Armani suit had been cut off. Now she had gone too damn far.
“Indigo, you bitch, where the fuck are you?” I pushed myself to a standing position as fast as I could. But what my eyes saw next humbled me beyond belief. Indigo was lying on my bed, dressed in the gown she was supposed to be wearing to our wedding. She looked lifeless, lying there surrounded by my plaques and degrees. On the night table were five pill bottles, all of them empty.
“Oh, my God, Indigo. No!” I cried as I ran over to the bed. I touched her and she was cold. “God, please, please don’t let her be dead.” I shook her. “Come on, Indigo, get up. Get up, baby,” I pleaded. All my anger had disappeared. I wiped the tears from my eyes and rested my head on her chest, prayin
g I might hear a heartbeat. I did, however faint it was. I let out a sigh of relief as I reached for my cell phone and dialed 911.
As soon as the 911 operator said the paramedics were on their way I hung up my phone and cradled her in my arms. “Hang in there, baby,” I kept repeating as I rocked her. “Hang in there. They’re on the way.” As I rocked her, I glanced toward my dresser and noticed some lavender stationery on top. I reached for it and unfolded it. The paper shook in my hands as I read what she’d written.
Trent,
I guess you know by now that I discovered your little secret. You’re not a vice president of Def Jam and never were. You know the funny thing? When I first saw you in that bar I didn’t give a damn what you did for a living. I just thought you were cute and wanted to get to know you. So imagine how lucky I felt when I found out that not only were you cute, you were the man who could help me achieve my dream of becoming a singer. The only thing I ever wanted in life. I thought I had it all when I was with you. A man who could promote my career and who loved me. Like you said, it was you and me against the world. We were going to take the music industry by storm and be together forever.
That’s why it was so painful when I stumbled upon your little stash of business cards and fake degrees while I was trying to find a hiding place for your wedding present. That’s when I realized you never loved me at all, did you? That I was nothing more than a meal ticket you could discard at any time. All you loved was the money and presents I gave you, and I hate you for that. You’re nothing but a con man and I was your score. Well, that’s over now. You can forget about that. You’ll see I’ve destroyed everything I ever bought for you and a little more—the leather couch, the big-screen TV, the clothes and the cologne. Everything’s destroyed, just like you’ve destroyed my life. Now, with these pills I’m going to take away the most important thing to you, the thing that could have made you millions—my voice. You won’t be able to use me anymore, Trent, because by the time you find this I’ll be dead.
