Her Secret Life

by Tiffany L. Warren

  “I raised an ungrateful, ungodly child who abandoned her mama when she was in need,” Earlene said. There was no affection in her tone. There was spite, anger, and maybe even desperation, but there was no love.

  “Your daughter sent the police after me at school. She accused me of stealing her check.”

  “Your mama is sick.”

  “She’s not a mother! When has she mothered me? When has she put me before drugs or a man?”

  “When she gave you over to me. When she knew she couldn’t care for you. She protected you from her life, and you abandoned her. God is gonna make you pay for this, girl. Honor your father and mother. It’s in the Bible. The first law with a promise. God said it would go well for you if you honored your mother. You have not.”

  “Your God punished me before I was even born. He punished me to be born to a crackhead. If He’s up there and listening to you, let Him know He’s already dealt me a bad hand. Looks like I got my consequences up front.”

  “Mark my words. You got worse coming to you.”

  Earlene turned and went back into the house. Onika could hear the door slam from where she stood. She wanted to follow. Wanted to plead for affection. Wanted to cry into her grandmother’s chest and tell her that she’d ended the life of her great-grandchild. She wanted absolution.

  Instead of forgiveness, Onika had gotten a curse. If the God Earlene served allowed that curse to be carried out, then Onika decided that she’d never follow Him. What kind of God cursed a child in the womb, and gave a double curse when she tried to move beyond the misery of it all? Not one she wanted to worship.

  Earlene could have her vengeful God. Onika would find her way without Him.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Onika sat in Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport feeling worried that she and Aaron wouldn’t make it to Chelsea’s wedding reception. They hadn’t missed the wedding, because Chelsea and her husband had eloped and told everyone after the fact. Of course, Mrs. Richard had been furious. The trade-off was a quickly planned reception without bridesmaids, groomsmen, or a wedding dress. Chelsea would wear a designer gown, but that’s all Mrs. Richard could get her to agree to.

  Onika had to be there. She needed to run interference for Chelsea. To protect her from Mrs. Richard’s wrath, which was sure to be on expert level by the time Onika arrived.

  “If they’d given people ample time to plan for this, we wouldn’t be riding coach,” Aaron fussed as he looked at the seat assignment on his ticket.

  “Coach isn’t the worst thing in the world, love. I think we’ll be able to survive it,” Onika said.

  “You’re joking, but I’m serious. I’m too tall for coach. I’m going to try again to get us upgraded.”

  “Honey, if they just have one seat, you take the upgrade.”

  “Why would I sit in first class with my companion in coach? That’s just crazy.”

  “Because I don’t want to hear you fussing the whole ride if we’re in coach. I just am not here for it, and I want you comfortable.”

  Aaron kissed her lips. “This is why I love you. You’re so practical, so drama free. We are a perfect match.”

  “Not quite perfect. Maybe if I had two vaginas.”

  Aaron’s eyebrows lifted as if he was considering that possibility.

  “You’re gross,” Onika said.

  “You drew the mental picture, and I have to say, you’re an artist. A regular Picasso. A Dumas.”

  Onika chuckled as she watched Aaron swagger up to the ticket counter. She knew what he was going to do. He was going to pull out all his sweet, good charm. He’d have that first-class upgrade, even if someone got suspiciously bumped.

  Onika barely noticed when the woman sat down next to her, because she was watching the scene with Aaron and the ticket agent unfold. She didn’t pay attention until the woman tapped her shoulder.

  “Do you love him?” she asked. “You know about me and the countless others, but you seem to still love him. Why?”

  Onika glared at the woman. She was more insulted at the audacity to ask her these questions in public than the questions themselves. Who did this tramp think she was dealing with?

  “What is it to you? Do you love him? Clearly you know him.”

  “I’ve been one of Aaron’s bed partners for ten years. I came before you. I’ll be here after you’re gone. I was just wondering if you love him.”

  “Since you’re so comfortable with your position, why do you care?”

  “I was actually going to warn you to get out while you can. Save your life while you can. I’ve completely given him mine. I wasted all my young years fulfilling his fantasies, and now I can’t have children.”

  Onika wanted to feel sympathy for this woman, but she couldn’t. Knowing that Aaron slept with other women was one thing, but for them to come out of the shadows and into her atmosphere was quite another.

  “I don’t need your advice. I’m good. We’re good.”

  “But you’re not good, baby. I can see how irritated you are that I’m here. It’s because you love him, and you think you’ve accepted his infidelity, but you haven’t.”

  “It isn’t infidelity if I know about it.”

  The woman laughed a hearty laugh. “You’ve swallowed every single, last drop of the Aaron cherry, arsenic-laced Kool-Aid. You’re worse off than I ever was. I never accepted it. I dealt with it, because I needed what he gave me. I need the sex more than anything.”

  “Go away. If you know anything about Aaron, you know how much he values his privacy. This would not go over well with him.”

  “I see why he stays with you. You’re giving him everything he wants. But what do you want? Don’t you want anything for yourself?”

  Onika had asked herself this question many times and hadn’t been able to come up with an answer, but she damn sure wasn’t going to try to find the answer for one of Aaron’s bed buddies. She turned from the woman and ignored her, hoping she’d communicated that there was nothing left to say.

  “And I thought I was going to get you to leave him,” the woman said as she stood. “I should’ve known better. You’ll never leave him.”

  Onika heard the words but didn’t respond. Didn’t feel like she owed her a response. The woman probably wanted Onika’s life, and unfortunately she didn’t have the trophy looks and probably didn’t have the education either. She had a big behind, big breasts, and a flat stomach. She looked exactly like what she was to Aaron—a sexual fantasy.

  But even though Onika had built a barricade around her heart and steeled herself against the pain from Aaron’s outside trysts, it still hurt to be confronted with them. When the women came out of the shadows to make themselves known, it pained her every single time.

  And every time Aaron only apologized for the women approaching her. He never apologized for putting her in the situation with his insatiable need for sex.

  Onika was so weary, but also so in love with Aaron. She had no idea what she would do if he decided that she no longer suited his needs. With every additional woman, the threat was there.

  He hadn’t seen any of the exchange, and he walked back over to Onika with a huge smile on his face.

  “I got us two first-class upgrades,” Aaron said.

  “Really? How?” She choked back tears, swallowing them. She didn’t want Aaron to know what had just transpired.

  “I can’t tell you. It’s a secret. But don’t I always take care of you?”

  Onika nodded. “Mmm-hmm. You always do.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Onika hadn’t met up with Mrs. Richard or Chelsea since Chelsea’s wedding reception. But they were in Washington, DC, for the sorority’s centennial conference, and she couldn’t refuse them a lunch. They were the closest thing she had to family these days, so she wanted to see them.

  They met at Legal Sea Foods in the heart of the city, near Chinatown, because Mrs. Richard wanted a lobster roll. Chelsea wanted whatever her mother wanted.

&nb
sp; Both Mrs. Richard and Chelsea were dressed in pink and blue, the sorority colors. Onika was wearing an orange sundress, because it was spring and warm enough for her to pull out her sundresses. Plus, she was over the sorority life. The only time she put on that mantle was when Aaron demanded that she be his Epsilon Phi Beta showpiece. She’d stroll with her alumni sisters and party it up, but as soon as it was over, she’d leave it behind. She found it all pretentious now and wondered why she’d ever wanted it so badly.

  Mrs. Richard ordered champagne for the table, pleasing Onika. She’d been hoping that it wouldn’t be seen as too early to imbibe, because she needed a drink to deal with Mrs. Richard and her endless questions about her and Aaron’s relationship.

  “So, are you just loving DC?” Chelsea asked. “I always love it when I visit, but I just can’t see myself leaving Atlanta.”

  “You should leave that country place,” Mrs. Richard said. “Our family is on the East Coast. I can’t believe you decided to stay there.”

  “My husband is there, Mama. He has a church. How can we move? Tell her, Nikki! She should be proud of me. I have everything she wanted me to have. A rich husband, a mansion, and status.”

  “That cretin didn’t even give you a wedding. He whisked you away to get married in someone’s secret chapel. Why would he do that? You’re my only daughter. I was denied the chance of hosting your wedding. I will never forgive your pastor for that.”

  “Mother, when will you get over this? It was three years ago. You can’t hold that against him forever.”

  “Yes, I can, and I intend to.”

  “Well, you still have Nikki,” Chelsea said. “When she and Aaron finally decide to get married, then you can plan everything for her.”

  Mrs. Richard’s expression turned dark. “Nikki, when are you going to leave him? Have you not grown tired of Aaron yet?”

  Onika sighed. She’d known it was coming but was hoping she wouldn’t have to answer the questions until after she’d gotten a nice buzz from the champagne.

  “You know that I love him, Mrs. Richard.”

  It was funny. Onika viewed Mrs. Richard as a mother figure or, at the least, a very close aunt, but she’d never called her anything other than Mrs. Richard. Maybe because it was a title that the woman wore with pride. She was proud to be Mrs. Richard.

  “I know. And I think in his warped little mind he believes that he loves you, but I must tell you he’s been around the campus lately.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “He’s got some girl pining away after him. She’s a senior at Robinson. The rumor on campus is that she was pregnant and miscarried. I doubt if it was a miscarriage.”

  “It probably was. Aaron desperately wants children. He wouldn’t make her have an abortion.”

  “You don’t seem shocked about the girl.”

  Onika wasn’t shocked, but she was worried. He’d always had other women, but many of them were married or older. They weren’t threats. He wouldn’t leave her for any of them. They were merely supplements for his pleasure.

  “Aaron is quite honest about his wandering eye. I know there are others. There have always been others.”

  “And you’re fine with that?” Chelsea asked. “I could never share my man.”

  Onika was leery of people who said what they’d never do. She was sure her mother had said she’d never be strung out on drugs or become a prostitute. Never was as flaky a word as forever. Neither really meant anything.

  “I wish that he was only with me, but he has never been dishonest about it.”

  “But he isn’t always safe,” Mrs. Richard said. “Otherwise, there wouldn’t have been a pregnancy scare.”

  “That does concern me. I thought he was always using protection. We’ll have a talk about that.”

  Onika knew this was a lie even as the words left her parted lips. She’d never mention this conversation to Aaron. She’d govern herself accordingly and continue to get tested for sexually transmitted infections. It was a part of her normal routine. She’d resigned herself to Aaron’s ways when she’d chosen to stay with him in spite of it. Nothing Mrs. Richard said was a surprise, and Onika found that there was also no pain. She’d become numb to Aaron’s actions.

  “Darling, you should leave him. It’s been nearly five years since you graduated, and you haven’t gotten what you need from this arrangement. Can’t you see how selfish he is? If he’s going to have multiple women, at the very least he could give you the title. Let you be the wife with legal access to his possessions in case something happens to his simple ass.”

  “I don’t really care about his possessions.”

  “You should care,” Mrs. Richard said. “If you wake up one day and this is over, then what will you have to show for it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I will tell you. You won’t have a damn thing. And don’t say something stupid like you’ve experienced love. Get out while you still have your sanity. Don’t give him every bit of yourself.”

  Chelsea started to cry, as if the words were directed at her.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Mrs. Richard asked.

  “I-I just don’t want to see Nikki hurt. Please don’t let him hurt you, Nikki. Leave him, now.”

  “He won’t hurt me. I’m strong. I know what he’s doing. If I wake up one day and it’s over, then it’s over.”

  Chelsea sobbed into her napkin, and Mrs. Richard nudged her in the ribs.

  “Stop it, girl. You’re drawing attention to us. We’ve done all we can. We’ve told Nikki what we know, and she’ll choose to do what she wants with the information. Don’t cry. Save those tears for when your sister comes running to you when Aaron breaks her stupid little heart.”

  Onika wanted to get up and walk out. She came very close to doing it, but she didn’t want Mrs. Richard to know how deeply she’d been affected by her words. Maybe she was stupid. Maybe her heart would be broken. But she couldn’t go back now; she could only go forward.

  She did know one thing. If Aaron ever did hurt her, Onika would never let Mrs. Richard, Chelsea, or anyone see her cry about it. No one would get to see her tears. No one would get to say they told her so.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  When Aaron asked Onika to join him in the dining room, and she saw that he’d ordered sushi and wine, she knew some sort of announcement was about to happen. And she knew it wouldn’t be a good one.

  He’d been in a bad mood for a few weeks. He’d picked arguments over nothing, fussed at Onika about her spending—something he’d never done. Onika had been feeling a sense of doom without any idea how to fix it.

  “This isn’t working,” Aaron said as she sat down at the dining room table.

  He hadn’t even given her the opportunity to sit and prepare for his words. He dropped them on her like a ton of concrete.

  Although she hadn’t had time to prepare, Onika couldn’t even say she was surprised. She hadn’t been worried about the woman who showed up at the airport whispering in her ear, but she had been concerned about the girl at Robinson. The girl who had lost his baby. When she’d heard that story, she knew their days were numbered. But seeing the writing on the wall wasn’t enough to make her plan.

  Still, she wasn’t ready for it to be over.

  “What isn’t working?” she asked.

  “Us being together. We want different things. We’re on different paths. You want marriage . . .”

  “I’d settle for monogamy.”

  Aaron chuckled. “And you know I’m not monogamous.”

  She did know, and it didn’t make this any easier. She thought that knowing would make it easier.

  “Let’s not drag this thing out. I’m expecting you to be gone tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? I have to get on my feet first, Aaron. Find a job, get a place.”

  “Not my problem. No one told you to not keep your affairs in order.”

  Onika stared at him in disbelief. “You told me not to work.”
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br />   “I did not. I told you that you didn’t need a job. I pay all the bills, so that was the truth.”

  “So you’re going to have me jobless and penniless in Washington, DC? What have I ever done to you, for you to punish me this way?”

  “Well, Onika, I’ve done some digging.”

  Onika smarted at the use of her real name. He’d never used it, even after she’d told it to him. He’d only ever used Nikki.

  “And it seems,” Aaron continued, “that you have a family and a home in Goldsboro, North Carolina. You can get on your feet there.”

  Any hope of reconciliation Onika had fizzled. She wondered how far into her past Aaron had delved. Did he know about Judy’s drug abuse and prostitution?

  Fear gripped Onika at her core. Not only did she not have a job; she didn’t have a network of friends. The people she knew were Aaron’s friends, and they would quickly envelop Onika’s replacement into their fold. Onika didn’t have a friend in DC who didn’t belong to Aaron.

  “I’ve bought you a plane ticket and arranged for ground transportation to your grandmother’s house. She’s been notified of your pending arrival.”

  Onika could imagine the cackling her grandmother had done when she’d received that notification. She’d probably be standing on the front porch, legs akimbo, waiting to spit in Onika’s face.

  She didn’t care what Aaron said or what plane ticket he’d bought, Onika wasn’t going back there.

  “What about my things?” Onika asked.

  “What things?”

  Onika owned a wardrobe of off-the-runway fashions—one-of-a-kind creations that could fetch her a good amount of cash. Shoes and jewelry, too. If she liquidated the collection she could have thousands in the bank.

  “Oh, you mean my investments? Those clothes, shoes, and jewelry are listed as my assets. You had use of them. They don’t belong to you.”

  Onika’s heart sank. She did have a stash of two thousand dollars. She’d collected that money painstakingly over the years. There was rarely an opportunity for her to handle his cash. She had cards with restrictions that disallowed taking cash advances. Her stash had been built with found money in Aaron’s pockets and wallet, and he was not a careless man. Those twenties and tens had been hard to come by.