The Million Dollar Demise

by RM Johnson

“And you left me before this,” Daphanie said unapologetically. “We were trying to have a baby. We were going to get married. I didn’t take the work transfer I would’ve taken because you said I’d be fine—now I’m out of work. Do you know how hard it’ll be for me to find another job, with the economy the way it is now?”

  “So you lie about a child that’s not even mine to get what you want.”

  “I deserve it!” Daphanie screamed. “I deserve you, what we had. The life we were going to have. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Nate stood in front of her, not saying a word.

  Daphanie rushed to him, grabbed him by his suit jacket lapels. “So it’s his. But he doesn’t ever have to know it. You can raise it like it’s your own. You’re doing that with Nathaniel. Just do it—”

  “Let go of me,” Nate said, his voice calm.

  “Nate, just listen to me.”

  “Let go of me,” he said more firmly, a rage in his eyes that Daphanie did not want to test.

  She released him.

  “I’m going to walk out this door. I’m doing you a favor now by letting this end right here. Normally I would not drop this till I got revenge by ruining everything in your life. I’m trying to change because I see where that’s gotten me.” Nate raised a finger to Daphanie’s face. “But don’t ever try to contact me again, or I’ll forget what I just said and you will be very sorry.”

  90

  The next night, Nate sat at his dining room table by himself. It was going on nine P.M. The lights were low. In the living room, the flat-screen was on, but the volume was muted.

  He had played with Nathaniel before bed. Nate had bathed him, told him a bedtime story, then sat at the edge of his bed till the boy had fallen off to sleep.

  Nate then prepared his dinner, the food he was eating now— a cold-cut sandwich, some chips, carrot sticks, and a glass of milk.

  He had eaten a quarter of the sandwich. He held the uneaten half in his hand and stared at the space before him.

  He sat in total silence.

  91

  Monica sat on the steps of Tabatha’s front porch, staring up at the sky. It was night. The stars were out, and the weather was warm. She had gotten all her hair cut to the length the hair had grown to around the area of her surgery. It was short and wavy and framed her face nicely, although she didn’t think so.

  She cupped a glass half full of red wine in both her palms.

  Monica heard the screen door open behind her, but paid no mind to it.

  She felt Tabatha standing behind her.

  Tabatha had put Roland in charge of the store for the past few days, because she wanted to stay home with Monica. Monica knew this was Tabatha’s way of getting free days off, and she thought it was sweet that the assistant manager didn’t complain.

  Tabatha sat beside Monica on the second step. She held her refilled glass of wine.

  “Forget about him, girl. I’m telling you, Nate’s not worth your thoughts.”

  “I’m forgetting,” Monica said, still looking skyward. “But it’s hard. I gave up Lewis, and now he’s found someone else. He looks happy.”

  “Girl, you gave him up because you didn’t want him,” Tabatha said. “He was wrong for you from the very first day Nate picked him, which shows you how right Nate was for you. If Nate really knew you, he would’ve picked someone who was really rich and caring and handsome, and then none of this would’ve happened.”

  Monica turned to Tabatha, chuckling. “If you’re trying to make me laugh, it’s not working.”

  “It’s working a little bit.” Tabatha took a sip of her wine. She threw an arm around Monica’s shoulder. “Time. It does heal all wounds. Even the Nate-inflicted kind.”

  Monica took a slow drink from her glass. “You think he’s thinking about me right now?”

  “Don’t, sweetheart. Don’t put yourself there.”

  “But … but we were going to get married again. I was living there. We had finally gotten the child that we always wanted,” Monica said, getting emotional, feeling herself wanting to cry.

  “Don’t, Monica. It’s over,” Tabatha said, setting down her glass, turning to Monica, and hugging her. “It’s over now, and you never have to think or worry about him again.”

  Monica grabbed tight to Tabatha, dropped her face onto her best friend’s shoulder, and cried.

  A car rolled up in front of Tabatha’s house. It was a large black Mercedes. Nate was behind the wheel.

  “I don’t believe this motherfucker,” Tabatha said under her breath. She stood as the car door opened and Nate climbed out. As he walked around the Mercedes, Tabatha descended the first step, pointing at Nate. “Don’t you even think about it.”

  Monica was still sitting, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

  “I need to speak to Monica,” Nate said.

  “Get the fuck away from here!” Tabatha yelled, stepping down to the sidewalk. “You have done her enough harm. Just go!”

  “Monica,” Nate said, looking past Tabatha. “Just let me have a word with you. One minute.”

  “Did you hear what I said? Leave my fucking premises!” Tabatha said.

  “No. Wait,” Monica said, her voice soft.

  “Monica, just let him go,” Tabatha said, turning to Monica.

  “I want to hear what he has to say,” Monica said, sniffling.

  “Are you sure?”

  Monica nodded.

  Nate slowly walked toward the steps, passing Tabatha cautiously. “Can I speak to you in private?” Nate asked.

  “No,” Monica said. “Tabatha can stay.”

  “This has nothing to do with her,” Nate said. “This is between us.”

  “There is no us!” Monica screamed at Nate from the steps. She lowered her voice and continued, “That ended the day you got that bitch pregnant. If you have something to say, you can say it in front of Tabatha. If not, drive the fuck home.”

  “That’s right,” Tabatha said from behind Nate.

  Nate looked over his shoulder, gave the evil eye to Tabatha, then turned back to Monica. “Things weren’t supposed to happen this way. We were fine. We were going to get married, remember? Everything we went through to get back together, we just can’t throw that away now.”

  “Our marriage was shit the day we got married, Nate. I just didn’t know it then.”

  “That’s not true,” Nate said. “That’s not true. We were good, and we can be again.”

  Monica chuckled sadly. “And how is that? You have a baby on the way. You want that baby in your life, you want to raise it. Isn’t that what you told me?”

  “I know. But I changed my mind. You cannot blame me for getting her pregnant. We weren’t together then. It just happened. But I thought about losing you, and I realized that child is not worth it. We already have our family, right? Nathaniel misses you so much. All he does is ask about you.”

  Monica missed the little boy, too.

  “You have a child coming, Nate. I could never give you one. I will always be in the woman’s shadow,” Monica said. “I couldn’t do it.”

  Nate closed his eyes, sighed heavily, then opened them again. “I haven’t been totally honest with you.”

  “When have you ever?” Tabatha said.

  “The child is not mine.”

  “What?” Monica said. “How do you know?”

  “We had a test done. The child is not mine,” Nate said. “I swear. You can check. It’s not.”

  Monica just stared at Nate. What did this mean? The baby wasn’t his. He was asking her back. If she said yes, she would see little Nathaniel again. She and Nate would get married, and things would go back to the way they were.

  “Monica, you ain’t actually listening to what he has to say, are you?” Tabatha said, now standing right in front of Monica.

  “Tabatha, no one asked for your opinion on this,” Nate said.

  “Fuck you, Nate! I’m talking to Monica,” Tabatha said. She turned back to Monica. “Please d
on’t make this same mistake again. Just tell him no.”

  “She can answer for herself, Tabatha,” Nate said.

  “I said—” Tabatha began.

  “He’s right,” Monica said, interrupting. “I can answer for myself.”

  Monica stood. “So what are you offering, Nate?”

  Tabatha shook her head.

  “Come back,” Nate said. “Come back, and things will be exactly the way they were.”

  “Really!” Monica said, faking enthusiasm. “You mean like when you were fucking your secretary Tori. Or maybe like when you were taking pills to make you impotent so I would go out and sleep with the man you paid to seduce me, so you could divorce me. It would be like that again? And would you be the same loving man? The man that blackmailed Lewis, that stole his best friend’s house from him and his mother. Would you be the man that forced Freddy Ford to come to our house and try to kill us both and kidnap Nathaniel? Would I be so lucky to be married to the man that would not come to see me while I was still in the hospital, and when you did, it was to tell me that you were leaving me once again, because you got some other woman pregnant, and you’d rather be with that child and her mother than with me? But hold it, that was before you found out the kid wasn’t really yours. But now that you have that little bit of information, now you can come back to me, and actually expect me to take you back,” Monica said. “Nate, I have one thing to say to you. You must be out of your fucking mind.”

  “There you go!” Tabatha screamed. “Hallelujah! That’s my girl!”

  “Nate, I’ve given you all I had to give you. My love, my devotion. Lord knows I would’ve given you a child if He would’ve let me. And I almost gave my life being with you, but He didn’t want that to happen, either. So now I’m through. I have nothing left to give you, but most important, I have nothing more I want to give you. Now if you’d please do as Tabatha said, and leave her fucking premises.”

  Nate looked as though there was something he wanted to say, but he remained silent. He turned toward his car, stopped, turned to face Monica and Tabatha again. He opened his mouth as though to comment, but again said nothing. He finally turned, walked back to the Mercedes, climbed in, and drove off.

  Tabatha ran to Monica, threw her arms around her, screaming, “You finally did it, girl! You did it!”

  Monica smiled, looking in the direction the car had disappeared in, and with pride said, “Yes, I did.”

  92

  Daphanie had spent the last three days searching online for pharmaceutical representative positions. There were absolutely none. Unemployment payments would last her six months. Her health insurance would run out in the same amount of time. She was pregnant. What the hell was she going to do?

  She had retirement she would have to draw from, because her savings were a joke.

  All of this because Trevor couldn’t leave well enough alone and had to open his huge mouth.

  Fine, Daphanie thought. He wants the world to know about his baby, then everyone should know.

  Daphanie pushed open her car door and climbed out.

  She had gotten her hair done yesterday. It would be the last time, she told herself, till she found another job. But for now it looked marvelous.

  She wore a pair of skintight jeans. They hugged her ass and thighs perfectly. Again, in not too many weeks she’d be saying good-bye to those.

  Her makeup was perfect. She was gorgeous, she told herself, as she climbed the steps of the middle-class home.

  She dug in her purse, pulled out her compact, checked herself in the tiny mirror, and dabbed a bit of powder on her nose for good measure.

  She dropped the case back into her purse, then rang the doorbell.

  After a few moments, the door was opened.

  A mild-looking, somewhat pudgy woman stood in the doorway.

  Daphanie didn’t speak, just smiled at her, her lips covered in bright red lipstick.

  “Can I help you?” the woman said.

  “Yes, Mrs. Morgan, you can,” Daphanie said in her sweetest voice. “I just want to introduce myself. My name is Daphanie Coleman, and I’m your husband’s baby’s mama.”

  Epilogue

  Two weeks had passed, and Nate sat in his backyard watching Nathaniel play with the new puppy he had gotten him. The boy had begged Nate till he had no choice but to give in.

  Everything was fine. Nate had gone back to work, and he enjoyed being there.

  Nate had found a new woman to take care of the boy and the house. Her name was Ms. Langford. She was older, had never been married, and had been a nanny and housekeeper for most of her adult life. She was working out fine.

  Evenings for Nate were somewhat lonely, but Nate no longer thought about Monica. He knew they were finally done with each other. He had no intention of trying to appeal to her once again to take him back.

  Sitting in his backyard, drinking a glass of homemade lemonade thanks to Ms. Langford, Nate smiled at Nathaniel, and thought that, yes, everything was just fine.

  But there was something gnawing at Nate. A feeling that he could not get rid of, no matter how much he tried.

  It was a feeling of victimization.

  He had been lied to, used, and that did not sit well with Nate.

  Even though he had told Daphanie he would not seek revenge for what she had done to him, that promise was not sitting well with Nate. It went against every belief he held, kept him up some nights and waking poorly rested.

  For the last two weeks, he had fought the urge to do anything about this, but now he was pulling out his cell phone. Nate scrolled through the call list, highlighted the name he wanted to dial, then punched the Call button.

  After the third ring, Trevor Morgan answered.

  Nate had a brief conversation with him. Trevor informed Nate how Daphanie had shown up at his front door, told his wife all about the child.

  Nate had never known Daphanie to be the type of person she was revealed to be now. It was a good thing he had not married her.

  Trevor told Nate that Daphanie had only spoken to him once since then, to assure him he’d never see the baby a day in his life.

  That afternoon, Nate left Nathaniel with Ms. Langford and took a trip to the jewelry store.

  Two hours later, he stood in Daphanie’s living room.

  She was surprised to see him, but happy.

  Nate said he had a change of heart and lowered himself to one knee, opening the box containing the ring he had just bought, and proposed to her.

  Daphanie tearfully accepted.

  As they sat together later, holding each other, sharing some wine, Nate carefully informed Daphanie that there were conditions to his proposal.

  She told Nate she would do whatever she had to.

  Nate told her that he could not marry her as long as she was mother to another man’s child.

  Daphanie asked Nate what she was to do.

  He did not believe in abortion. He did not want Daphanie to kill the child. Nate told her that he would marry her only if after she gave birth to the baby, she signed over full custody, with absolutely no rights or visits on her part, to the father of the baby.

  Nate had already had the surgery to correct his fertility problem, and the doctor had already given him a clean bill of health.

  Nate promised, as soon as they were married, they could have a child of their own.

  Daphanie looked conflicted.

  Nate stood, told her he would leave, give her as much time as she needed to think it over. He knew he was asking a lot of her, but he told her he wouldn’t have it any other way.

  At two-thirty that morning, Nate’s bedside phone rang. It was Daphanie. She told him it would be hard, but she would do it.

  What she wanted most was a life with Nate, and as long as he promised he would give her a child, she would do whatever he asked of her.

  During the pregnancy, Daphanie spent the majority of her time at Nate’s place. She wanted to sell her loft. But the housing market was hor
rible, and Nate suggested she hold on to it, until prices climbed enough so she wouldn’t lose on her investment.

  Daphanie didn’t bother searching for a job, but stayed at home, enjoying her pregnancy. Nate said there was no need for her to work. He was fine with her being home. He told her that if she liked, she could occupy some of her time with the planning of their wedding. One evening, he even brought home an armful of bridal magazines.

  He told her the event could be as big or as small as she preferred. But he was leaning on the side of a large society event. They could leak news to the paper, have their photo in JET magazine, let the world know. Daphanie was excited.

  So until she gave birth, Daphanie had been busy planning her wedding with Nate. She whittled down the guest list to five hundred of their closest family and friends.

  Daphanie had gotten word that their photo would definitely run in the forthcoming issue of JET, and she had even spoken to the producer of the new BET show Million Dollar Brides. They were going to have a camera crew at the wedding to shoot the entire gala. It would be wonderful.

  Two days after Daphanie was released from the hospital, she, Nate, and the new baby (it was Nate’s suggestion that Daphanie not give the child a name) met Trevor at his home. They were accompanied by two of Nate’s attorneys. Trevor had his lawyer there as well.

  Trevor’s wife was no longer in the home. They had been divorced after she received Daphanie’s news.

  After the contract was looked over thoroughly by all three attorneys, Trevor signed his name, and the document was passed to Daphanie.

  Nate held the baby in his arms.

  Daphanie looked down at the form, then over at the child. She hesitated.

  Nate smiled at Daphanie, assured her that in no time they’d be married. She would have him at her side for the rest of his life, and they would have a baby, maybe two or three, of their own.

  Daphanie seemed contented with that thought. Her hand shaking a bit, she signed the form giving Trevor full custody of the baby.

  Nate handed the child over to Trevor. Trevor thanked Nate, and the meeting was over.