Message from a Mistress

by Niobia Bryant

  There was one thing she knew for sure.

  She wasn’t giving Jackson up without a fight. No way in hell.

  Her BlackBerry lit up in the darkness and vibrated in her lap. Renee dropped her eyes down at the screen. It was their daughter Kieran calling. Renee picked it up but she didn’t answer it. Her kids were safe and secure at their grandparents’. Right now she didn’t feel like stepping into the role of mother. She wasn’t up to random questions about clothes, or boys, or curfews. Renee loved her daughter, but right now Mama was going through something she hoped Kieran would never experience.

  Tonight she would find the truth about her marriage. She wanted to know it all, regardless of whether Jessa was a spoke in the wheel or not. It was time to see just what cards they held.

  Her main focus was her role of wife—a role that she was ready to step into 100 percent. No more half-stepping. She had all day to weigh her options and it hit her hard that she couldn’t lose Jackson for anything or anyone…not even her career. Not anymore. For her, it was time to save their family.

  She’d almost cheated.

  Jackson might have cheated.

  When they’d wed she wouldn’t have ever guessed that either of them would stray. Never.

  Sighing, she rubbed her hands over her eyes and fought the urge to rush to their bar and pour a huge drink for herself. She had long since sobered up from earlier, and alcohol would only numb the truth—not make it disappear.

  The lights from a vehicle flashed against the window and Renee sat up a bit straighter. She relaxed again when she saw it was a car and not Jackson’s pickup truck. Her eyes stayed locked on the car as it neared her house. It was Jasper and Victoria’s Lexus SUV, and although Jasper had left in the SUV it was Victoria and Victoria alone who pulled up and parked in their driveway. Renee vaguely wondered just where Victoria had left her husband.

  When Victoria climbed out of the SUV and paused to look up at the dark and unlit house of the woman sleeping with her husband, Renee felt an affinity for her betrayed neighbor. Kelly’s house was dark and Renee wondered if she was home.

  Her eyes shifted back to Victoria lit by the street lamp. When she angrily wiped her face, Renee knew the woman was crying. Moments later she turned and walked into her house. Although there were many feet between them, Renee felt every bit of the emotions Victoria had to be suffering with. Every single one.

  Closing her eyes, Renee released a heavy breath and rubbed them. She glanced at her watch. It was just after seven. Usually by now on a fishing day, Jackson would have called to say he was on his way home. She picked up her BlackBerry and dialed his cell phone.

  “If you want him, Kelly, he is allllll yours!”

  Renee frowned and looked out the window just as Victoria heaved an armload of clothes over the white picket fence and onto Kelly’s lawn. They resembled awkward, oversized snowflakes or confetti floating to the ground. Renee watched as Victoria stormed into her house and back several times to send what she assumed was Jasper’s clothing over the fence.

  As Victoria made her fourth trip inside her house, Renee spotted Kelly peeking out a second-story window. Poor child is afraid, she thought.

  The slamming shut of a car door made Renee’s head whirl and her heart nearly leapt to her throat to see Jackson climbing out of the truck and walking around to reach into the bed. She’d been so busy in Victoria’s drama that she completely missed her husband’s arrival.

  “He’s home.”

  That fact alone made her shiver with excitement, but it was far from time to celebrate. Maybe he’s just home to tell me I am no longer the woman he loves and needs in person. How big of him, realizing that a text message from his mistress just didn’t have the same…class.

  Renee released a little laugh that clearly showed that she truly felt there wasn’t a damn thing funny at all.

  As he made his way up the asphalt walkway, Renee rose to her bare feet and smoothed the white cotton maxi dress she wore. She placed a smile on her face and turned just as Jackson walked through the door. Even as she struggled with the possibility of his betrayal, Renee thought her husband looked handsome even in jeans, navy T-shirt, and boots.

  The years had been good to Jackson, she thought, crossing her arms over her chest as she took in his tall and square build, the slight touches of silver at his temples, and just the hint of crow’s feet at his eyes. He was aging like a fine wine, and Renee didn’t want anyone else to sip from him. Period.

  He stopped in surprise at the sight of her standing there. “Hey,” he said briefly, tossing his keys onto the end table before he pushed his large, beefy hands into his pockets.

  Renee uncrossed her arms and walked over to him. “Had a good day?” she asked, surprised by the normalcy in her voice as she came to a stop before him.

  He nodded briefly before he brushed past her. “I need a shower,” he said.

  Renee stiffened and clutched her hand into a fist as a shot of pain and disappointment radiated through her chest. Each sound of his feet landing on the wooden steps echoed inside her.

  She didn’t know what she expected of his arrival home, but it all seemed anticlimactic. Pacing, Renee bit the gloss from her lips. She wrestled with whether she should confront him about Jessa Bell’s accusation or not. She wrestled even more with whether she wanted to know or not.

  She paused at the foot of the stairs.

  Jackson was home, but for how long?

  Renee jogged up the stairs and into their bedroom. There was a trail of fish-smelling clothes leading to the closed double doors of their bathroom. She eyed his jeans lying at the foot of the bed.

  Her hands itched to rummage through the pockets, but she stepped over them instead. She wasn’t at all prepared for what she might find. Not at all.

  Opening both the doors, Renee stepped into the bathroom. She frowned to see Jackson sitting nude on the commode on his cell phone. He looked up in surprise at her sudden appearance.

  “I’ll call you back,” he stammered, closing the cell phone.

  Was it Jessa?

  “Is everyone still coming over to play cards?” she asked, deciding to play it cool.

  Jackson nodded. “Far as I know.”

  Renee licked her lips and arched her brow. “Eric and Kingston?” she asked, walking over to the glass shower stall to start it for him.

  “Did one of the ladies say different, because the fellas said they were still coming when I dropped them off at home.”

  All three came home? Had Jessa lied, or was her lover at home breaking his wife’s heart at this very moment….

  Renee shifted her eyes to look at Jackson through the open glass door of their shower.

  Ask him, Renee. Ask your husband if he’s fucking your best friend. Ask him!

  Jackson flushed the commode.

  Ask him was he or is he going to leave you and his family to live with an undercover slut.

  But she said nothing as he walked past her again to step into the glass shower stall.

  This is ridiculous. Did he get my message? What does he think? He said he wanted to talk. About what? And when? Why is he stalling? And why am I letting him?

  Renee walked over to the sink. She frowned. His cell phone was sitting on the edge but it was powered off. What the hell?

  She looked up at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t like the woman she saw. This afraid to talk, skirting a major issue, pretending nothing was wrong wife was not her at all. But fear of losing him had the real Renee completely paralyzed.

  Her eyes shifted down to the cell phone, but she turned and rushed from the bathroom instead. Flying out the room and down the stairs to the bar, she poured herself a shot of tequila and downed it quickly before she poured another. Her hand gripped the glass tightly as anger consumed her. Anger at herself.

  I should boil some grits and do an Al Green on his ass right in that goddamn shower.

  Instead she swallowed down another shot, and it burned like fire on her e
mpty stomach. In one day she had drunk more alcohol than she had in years. Shit.

  Renee cupped the glass like a ball and hurled it across the room. It slammed into the side of the lamp, knocking it over and shattering the lightbulb. The living room darkened just a little bit as Renee turned and slid down the side of the bar to the floor. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly as she lightly hiccupped and then belched.

  Renee giggled a bit as she craved the days when marijuana made everything in her life seem funny. In this moment she could use a joint, blunt, or whatever they called it these days. She’d even hit the medicinal kind. Humph, it’s supposed to be for glaucoma or some shit. My ass been blind to some shit. Help me see shit clearer, Mary Jane.

  “Renee?” Jackson called out.

  She dropped her head on her arms as she listened to his feet slapping against the wood of their stairs.

  “Renee?” he called out again.

  She knew he was nearing her because the tiny, fine hairs on the back of her neck and her arms stood on end. Jackson’s presence had always seemed to electrify her.

  “Do you want a divorce, Jackson?” she asked, unable to take the cat-and-mouse game he was playing.

  She looked up as he stood beside her still damp from his shower with nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist, his heavy dick pressing through the thick material like a mighty fist.

  “Do you?” he asked.

  “Hell no, Jackson. No, I don’t want a divorce,” she cried out, tears of desperation filling her eyes. “Did you get my message?”

  He nodded, his handsome and square face solemn. “I got it.”

  Renee clumsily shifted to her knees as tears filled her eyes and streamed down her face. “What else do I have to do to prove that I want my marriage, then, Jackson? Do you want me to beg you? Then fine, here I am on my damn knees begging.”

  “Get up, Renee,” he said, reaching down to grab her shoulders tightly.

  “Please don’t leave me,” she wept without shame as he pulled her to her feet.

  Renee wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply of the familiar scent of him. “Jackson, please don’t give up on us,” she whispered into his ear.

  “Renee.”

  “Fuck that job. Fuck my career,” she pleaded, aware that his arms didn’t surround her body to hold her close.

  “Renee!”

  “I love you. I need you. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me—”

  “Renee,” he shouted, pulling her arms from around his neck and stepping back from her to shake her a little bit. “Listen to me. Damn!”

  Renee breathed deeply and tried her very best to calm herself as she swiped the track of her tears from her face. She felt ashamed that she had begged this man who was supposed to love her. Supposed to cherish and keep her. Honor her. All of it. Until death.

  And even after all her pleading, not once had he assured her that he wasn’t going to leave her and the kids. Not once.

  “I don’t care about anything that happened in the past, Jackson,” she told him as he steered her over to the sofa. “I just want to know that we can move forward.”

  Jackson sat down on the wooden coffee table, his face solemn as he took both her shaking hands in his. He looked at her long and hard and then looked away at something…anything…but her eyes. “If I could leave the past in the past, I would.”

  Renee pulled her hands out of his.

  “I’m so sorry, Renee.”

  “For?” she asked softly, looking down at her wedding ring on her left hand.

  Jackson swiped his hand over his mouth. “I love you, Renee…”

  She flinched. “But,” she added, feeling like it was about to drop from his mouth anyway.

  He risked another look at her and Renee saw the regret, the shame, and the guilt in his face before he even opened his mouth. She gasped a little as her heart clutched tightly. No. No. No.

  The tears that filled his eyes scared her more than anything, and when the words finally left his lips it seemed as if those words and his actions were in slow motion. “I had a one-night stand…”

  Boom.

  “And she’s pregnant.”

  Boom.

  Renee looked at this man, her husband, like she didn’t know him, like she couldn’t believe what he’d said, like she had been hurt far more than anything she’d ever imagined today.

  She felt cold and numb as she stared at him with eyes wide with shock. Another woman was pregnant with her husband’s baby.

  “Renee, I am so sorry. I never meant for this to happen,” he said, taking her quivering hands in his to lower his head and place kisses on them.

  Renee looked down at his hands and hers, but she really didn’t feel his touch or his kiss. She felt absolutely nothing—and maybe it was good that she didn’t.

  “Jessa is having your baby?” she asked, her face incredulous as some of the pain fought through her simulated fugue state.

  He looked up in shock, his face in a frown. “Jessa? Hell no. What makes you think that?” he asked.

  As Renee saw—and believed—the complete confusion in his eyes, that’s when she knew she had to get away from him. All day long her mind had been fixated on Jessa, when her husband wanted to ’fess up to fucking another bitch and getting her pregnant. And she’d begged him like a junkie needing a hit not to leave her.

  Her eyes shifted from his face to the bottle of tequila sitting on the bar. Her mouth literally watered for it.

  “Renee, say something,” he said, massaging her hands.

  She pulled her hands from his as she rose to her feet. Another woman was having her husband’s baby. What kind of cruel fate was this? What have I done to deserve this?

  She had been willing to fall back into the monotony of being a suburban housewife.

  She had been willing to give up her high-powered and completely fulfilling career.

  She had been willing to fight for her family for the sake of her children.

  She had been willing to not even ask about the affair with Jessa and move forward with her marriage and her life.

  Things had changed.

  Renee brushed past him and raced into the office, using the key hidden under the flowerpot to unlock the top drawer.

  Jackson’s presence soon filled the doorway and Renee lifted her hand with his 9mm gun in it—pointed dead at him.

  “Renee—”

  She shook her head and steadied her hand. Although her heart ached, Renee took a deep breath, gathered herself, and found her strength and her voice as she stiffened her spine. “I really need you to pack a bag and leave. Give me space and time and…”

  Renee dropped her chin to her chest as she struggled to find the words.

  The hairs on her body stood on end and she jerked her head up to find him coming closer to her.

  Click.

  Renee cocked the gun. “I would advise you to get the fuck out of my sight, Jackson. I mean it. I swear to God. I. Mean. It.”

  “Renee, I don’t want to lose you—”

  “Get the fuck out, Jackson!” she screamed at the top of her lungs until her eyes were bugged and the veins in her throat strained to what seemed the breaking point.

  He held up his hands and backed out of the room. Renee stood there with the gun still pointed at the spot where he’d stood. She stayed that way until the front door shut behind him and the sound of his truck starting echoed from outside.

  In time, Renee calmly sat the gun on the desk and covered her face with her hands as she bent over and released hysterical cries that left her nearly out of breath.

  Maybe tomorrow she could face the who, what, when, where, and why of Jackson’s affair, his mistress and his child…but for now she knew that her husband had just saved his own life by leaving just like she told him.

  CHAPTER 18

  Aria felt physically and emotionally exhausted from the day’s events and it wasn�
��t over yet. Not by a long shot. The sun had fled and the skies were ebony. Richmond Hills was more quiet than usual. Gone—if not forgotten—was the incident on Renee’s lawn earlier. For most of the residents normalcy had returned.

  But Aria wondered if she would ever be the same again.

  Any attempts to finish her column failed.

  Any calls from friends and family were ignored.

  Her plate was filled and she couldn’t take on any more.

  She had always been the one to doubt fidelity, to question the existence of morality and to side-eye any woman who came within one foot of her husband. And now? Her husband might have been cheating on her. He might be leaving her.

  Aria always felt like Jackson was the bad guy in Renee’s marriage. That he made Renee suffer because of his outdated thoughts on women working. That he wasn’t supportive or understanding. That he could be a pompous ass. In her eyes, Renee was the sufferer and Jackson was completely wrong. But then Renee admitted that she almost cheated on him. That she stepped outside the marriage with someone she worked with. That she had fucked up. That completely blew Aria’s mind, and now everything looked different. Was different. Truth? Aria lost respect for Renee in the moments after her confession. As wild as her past was, Aria didn’t understand or abide by cheating. To her, infidelity was easy and cowardly; putting in the time and effort to remain committed was the real challenge, and she was up to it. She thought Renee was too. She’d thought her friend was made up of more substance than that.

  Sighing, she rolled over onto her side in the middle of the bed as she picked up her cordless and dialed Kingston’s cell phone. Her heart stopped when it began to ring. The men were finally out of the water. She sat up straight in the bed, pressing the phone closer to her ear.

  But her heart and stomach plummeted when he didn’t answer and the call went to voice mail. “Shit,” she swore, hanging up the phone just to call him again.

  And again.

  And again.

  “Damn it, Kingston. Answer, motherfucker. You better answer.”