by Lucinda John
Looking down at my big-face Fossil watch, I impatiently tapped my long, shimmery pink nails on the table. The day I read this letter fucked my life up, in the worse way. Rob Jr. ended up going in distress, causing me to get an emergency C-section. I ended up losing a lot of blood and getting a blood transfusion. After I was released from the hospital, I ended up moving with my mother because I couldn’t stand the sight of that bastard. He was under the impression that I moved in with my mom for the extra help, but in reality, I hated the air he breathed.
I was about to leave when a lady dressed in a red maxi dress, pushing a double stroller, stood at the front entrance looking around. I motioned for the waitress to come over, and asked her to send the chick over to me.
“You must be Honey?” she smirked as she took a seat at my table.
Chick wasn’t hard on the eyes. She was a rich, dark chocolate color, her eyes were hazel, her body was thick and her smile was pretty. I was never the hater type and I always gave props when props were due. Lil’ mama was a baddie. I couldn’t even be mad at Rob since he decided to cheat on me with a decent looking chick. For some reason I was expecting a busted down Dollar Tree hoe.
“You like what you see?” she smiled flipping her long, curly weave.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snapped. I had Ms. Piggy in my purse and I was licensed to put a bitch in her place.
She was about to say something until she was interrupted by the cutest cries. She reached into the double stroller and pulled out one of her twins. The little girl looked so cute in her pink, blue, and green Nautica outfit. She was a rich chocolate color like her mother, with deep dimples. I watched this mysterious bitch try her best to comfort the baby that she claimed to be my stepchild.
“Show me the DNA results,” I said getting to the point.
She reached in her oversized Coach bag and pulled out a folder. She threw the folder in front of me and rolled her eyes. If it wasn’t for the baby she was holding, I would have dug in that bitch’s shit for being so disrespectful.
Thumbing through the folder, my eyes fell on a picture of Rob and the twins. This had to be a recent one, because the Tommy shirt he was wearing was the same one he bought to match the one he bought Rob Jr. The way he held his daughter, and the smile he wore on his face, confirmed that he knew those were his kids. Rob wasn’t dumb; he wouldn’t care for kids that he wasn’t sure was his.
Masking my pain, I continued to look through the folder. It was as if she was taunting me because the only thing I was coming across was pictures of Rob and the kids. When I finally made it to the DNA results, everything became a reality. Rob really fathered those two little girls. What pissed me off was that if it weren’t for this chick coming to me, he would have probably kept it a secret. The last page did it for me. My heart shattered and my eyes danced across their family picture. They were all smiling and looking like the fucking Brady Bunch.
For the first time in my life, I was trapped in a corner. I wanted to cry so badly, but I didn’t want to give this bitch the benefit of seeing me hurt. Grabbing the folder, I threw twenty dollars on the table, got up and left. With every step I took, it felt like the air was being sucked out of my body. When I finally made it to my Hummer, I was finally able to cry. Behind my tinted windows, I broke down and cried. Looking over to my left, I watched Rob’s baby mother get in her car, strapping her twins in, with a smirk on her face. Laugh now, cry later, I thought as I pulled off.
Instead of going to my mother’s house, I decided to go home to my deceitful husband. I needed answers and I needed them now. I waited too long to express these feelings I have been holding in, and now it all threatened to burst. I was reasonably angry, and my thoughts went to ways on how to get away with murder. I wanted to hurt Rob, just as bad as he did me. He looked me in the eyes, said vows, knowing that he murdered my sister and had another family.
The jingling of keys brought me back to reality. I looked up at Rob’s handsome face and I turned into Emily Rose. My head did a full three-sixty spin. Like a football player, I charged him with all of one hundred and fifty pounds. When he didn’t budge, I picked up a lamp off of the coffee table and whacked him with it. I was about to hit his ass again, but he grabbed the lamp from my hand and threw me against the wall.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he roared.
“Did you have to kill her Rob?” I cried, feeling my heart break all over again.
Unbelievably, him having an outside child was something I could deal with, but killing my sister was a hard pill to swallow. Although CoCo was conniving, I blamed her actions on my mother. If my mother wasn’t strung out on drugs, then she would have never been in the predicament to betray me. I would do anything to have my sister back, and to learn that my husband was the one behind my family’s grief disgusted me.
“What are you talking about?” that nigga had the nerve to ask.
“I’m talking about you killing CoCo!” I yelled, feeling my anger seep through my pores.
The look on his face told it all. The guilt that ran across his beautiful face confirmed that he killed my baby sister. I understood why Rob was upset with CoCo. Back when my mother was strung out on drugs, I met Rob’s best friend, Vic, who introduced my sisters CoCo, Cinnamon, and I into the world of setting men up. Everything was going good, until CoCo started sleeping with Vic, and they came up with a plan to set up Rob. CoCo acted as if she was really into him, and learned everything about him and the location of his money. They then stole everything Rob had and left him high and dry.
When I met up with Rob, I was pissed at what my sister and my ex, Vic had done, so I paid him back and helped him get back on his feet. In the midst of it all, we fell in love. I got pregnant, and we got married. I knew Rob wanted revenge, but I thought I paid CoCo’s debt off. Never in a million years did I think he would kill her. Yes, I was mad at CoCo for what she did to me, but I didn’t want her dead. I wanted to beat her ass and forgive her, not have to bury her.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Sorry for what? Killing her, or sorry that you kept it from me and I found out?”
“I’m not sorry for killing CoCo. She was a snake and she got what she deserved. You of all people should know the type of nigga I am. You should have known I wasn’t going to let that go with a smack on the wrist. The shit that fucked me up the most was lying in bed with you every night while you cried for your sister, knowing I was the reason you were grieving. I should’ve told you, but I didn’t want to fuck up what we had going on.”
Walking to the island, I picked up the folder.
“Were you going to tell me about Trisha?” I asked reading her name off of the DNA results.
A cat must have popped up and snatched this nigga’s tongue out of his mouth, because he was on mute.
“Were you going to tell me about Summer and Sunday? Ya know, your twin daughters!!” I spat tossing the pictures at his ass.
“Rob, I’m done! I want a fucking divorce!!!” I spoke on fifty percent of how I was feeling; the other fifty didn’t want to let him go. I loved Rob; he was the father of my child. I didn’t want to have to sign divorce papers before we even had the chance to make memories.
“Bae, don’t do this. I fucked up.” He bowed down in front of me on his knees, pleading his case. “One night I was in the club, fucked up over what I did to CoCo. You kept crying over her death and I was feeling like shit. I was going to tell you that I did it, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Drink after drink, I played out the different scenarios in my head. The thought of you leaving me, fucked me up in the head to the point where I was okay with taking it to my grave, so that I wouldn’t lose you. I had to tell somebody, so I ended up telling Trisha. I was fucked up and in a bad situation. Instead of going home, too, like I should have, I ended up with Trisha. All was good until she came to me, telling me she was pregnant. I was going to wait until I got the DNA results before I told you.”
&
nbsp; “The twins are two months old! When were you going to tell me? Were you going to take that to your grave too?” I asked on the verge of tears.
“Man, I fucked up Honey. You can’t leave me behind this shit, ma.”
“Rob, I can’t trust you anymore. Every time I look in your face, I see a compulsive liar. Only a sick person can walk around with so much held in and act as if everything was normal. I want nothing to do with you,” I said trying to walk away.
Rob clasped his arms around my waist and held me in front of him. I could see the tears forming in his eyes; but Rob was such a good actor, I wasn’t sure if those tears were genuine or if he was just putting on a front. Rob had me questioning everything, even his love for me.
“Let me go, please,” I swallowed, trying to hold back my tears. This hurt just as bad as having to bury my little sister.
With a look of defeat on his face, Rob let me go. I stared in his eyes and searched for a reason to stay, but all I could see is a murderer, liar, and cheater. I loved Rob, but this shit wasn’t okay. In the near future, I saw myself forgiving him, but I couldn’t see us being together.
Pulling the ring off my finger, I threw it on the ground in front of him. Turning on my heels, I briskly walked to the front door, until I came across our wedding photo. Unhooking it off the wall, I studied my face, our smiles. I could feel the love we had just by holding the picture of the happiest day of our lives. The more I looked at the picture, my pain began to turn into anger. Hurling the picture at Rob, he moved just in time to prevent being clocked in the head by the gold-plated picture frame. The picture fell on the marble floor, shattering. My heart was a replica of the broken picture frame that decorated the ground.
In my car, I took one last look of my family home before driving away. As soon as I got myself together, I would be sending Rob his divorce papers, looking for a new place for Rob Jr. and I, and moving on with my life. I’ve been through too much in life to not deserve anything less than the best. Between going through the major heartache with Vic, selling my body for money, and being on drugs, I’ve learned to love myself first. Now that I had a child that depended on me, it was time for me to wipe my tears. Just like Fergie expressed, big girls don’t cry.
CHAPTER 3
CHAD
“Daddy, I want juice.” CJ demanded.
“Say please,” I corrected him.
“Pleeeeeeeeease daddy.”
I grabbed his sippie cup and filled it with apple juice. Screwing the lid back on, I handed him the cup along with a bag of Cheetos Puffs.
“Thank you.”
“You welcome lil’ nigga.”
“Stop calling my son a nigga,” Cinnamon said, appearing in the kitchen with an arm filled with grocery bags.
“What you mean? That’s my lil’ nigga,” I replied, grabbing the bags out of her arms. “Is that all?” I asked sitting them down on the counter.
“Yes baby, where is Julie?” she inquired about our one-year-old daughter.
“My moms got her.”
“Vivian ain’t gon’ never let my baby stay home,” she laughed.
“I think it’s because Julie reminds her so much of grandma,” I said, referring to my grandmother that my daughter was named after.
When my grandmother passed, that is when my mother finally resurfaced in my life, after walking out on me since I was a baby. I didn’t harbor any ill feelings against her, I just welcomed her back with open arms. I’d lost my grandmother and I didn’t want to lose my mother again. Since we’ve been back in touch, everything has been going great. We continue with our lives as if she’s been here with me the whole time.
“I know, but my baby is never home.” Cinnamon pouted her full lips.
She was looking very cute, in a peach tank top that hugged her double ‘D’ cups that she got, thanks to my kids, some short, bleached distressed blue jeans, and a pair of gold, cutout, knee-high gladiator sandals. Around her neck was a gold chain with the words I LOVE CHAD hanging from the iced-out medallion. Her wrist shined with a gold Rolex that I just copped for her last week. She was dressed so simple with her hair pinned up on the top of her head, yet she looked so damn sexy.
I pinned her thick body against the counter. Cinnamon had gotten thicker since the day we met. Her having my kids put some meat on her in all the right places. Her red skin glowed, her ass was hanging out of her jeans and her breasts were so full and succulent. Her stomach was flat, but she no longer had the washboard abs that she possessed when I first met her. I didn’t’ mind at all, because in my opinion, she was looking sexy as fuck just the way she was.
Palming her plump ass, I lifted her and sat her on the counter. With my arms rubbing on her thick thighs, I flicked my tongue across her neck. Sinking my teeth in her neck, I began sucking on it until her moans filled the room.
“Eww, Daddy.” CJ scrunched up his face as he walked in the kitchen.
“Hey baby,” Cinnamon greeted him, pushing me off her and jumping down of the counter.
“Hi Mommy, Daddy gave you a booboo,” he said pointing to the bright red hickey hat was on Cinnamon’s neck.
“No, Daddy was just looking at it for me.”
“Was he kissing it to make it feel better?” he asked looking so serious that I had to laugh.
“Yes CJ. Are you hungry?” Cinnamon asked to change to subject.
“Can I have McDonald’s?”
“No. I’m going to cook dinner.”
“Aww man,” he whined.
“Ain’t no whining around here CJ, you ain’t no little girl,” I snapped.
“Leave him alone. CJ, baby, gon’ watch TV until dinner is finished.”
“Ok Mommy.” He ran out of the room as quickly as he came in.
“I hate when you do that shit.”
“Do what?” Cinnamon asked unloading the groceries.
“Get in between me disciplining my son.”
“Chad, he is only two years old,” she rolled her eyes.
“I don’t care. If I’m talking to my son, stay out of it. I’m not about to have him around here whining like a little bitch,” I snapped before walking out of the kitchen.
When I walked in the family room, CJ was sitting Indian style on the floor, engrossed in an episode of “Yo Gabba Gabba”.
“Let’s go play some basketball,” I said turning off the TV.
“But I don’t want to,” he pouted.
That cute, puppy dog shit only worked on his mother; I wasn’t going for it.
“Come shoot some hoops with your ole man. You gon’ be my future Michael Jordan. I need to start training you now.”
“Who is Michael Jouren?” he asked with wide eyes. Looking at him was like looking in a mirror.
“Michael Jordan is the greatest basketball player to ever fly across the court.”
“You’re gonna teach me to fly?” he excitedly asked, missing the point.
“Let’s go.”
We’ve been outside shooting hoops for the past two hours. I had to admit CJ was a fast runner. If he didn’t have a future in basketball, he’d make a great track star. Thinking about CJ and Julie had me having baby fever. I’d been pouring buckets of cum in Cinnamon, and she still wasn’t getting pregnant. I had an appointment made for her in the morning; I needed some answers. I was tired of hearing about the changes women body goes through.
“CJ, do ten suicides,” I yelled out as I took a seat on the pavement.
Taking a swing of my Smart Water, I watched my son run up and down the court. He needed a little brother to grow up with or Cinnamon was gonna turn him into a punk.
“Why you got my baby running like a crazy person? He’s only two Chad!” she fussed. “CJ, baby, come eat.”
I didn’t want to argue with her so I let him go. Taking my time, I got up, washed my hands, and joined them at the dinner table. Cinnamon made some of her beef and cheddar casserole, with homemade garlic bread, and homemade st
rawberry lemonade.
CJ was talking us to death like always. I wanted to tell his behind to shut up and eat, but Cinnamon would chew my fucking head off. Ever since CJ was a baby, Cinnamon had him on that Your Baby Can Read program. CJ was super smart. He was talking very well for a child his age. He knew his colors, shapes, and he was reading toddler books. Julie was on the same program and she was developing at an advanced pace as well. I had to give Cinnamon her props, she was doing the damn thing when it came to raising my kids, being a great housewife, and running her business all at the same time.
After dinner, I cleaned up the kitchen while Cinnamon gave CJ his bath and got him situated for bed. Her cell phone started to ring. I thought nothing of it so I let it ring. When her phone started ringing off the hook, I walked over to it and answered the unknown number.
“Is Cinnamon there?” Honey asked sounding stressed.
“She’s giving CJ a bath. You ok?” I asked.
“Yeah I’m fine. Make sure she gets my new number.”
“Ok,” I replied before hanging up the phone.
Making sure the kitchen was cleaned, I called and checked up on Julie before going outside to smoke a blunt. Prancer has been blowing me up non-stop about our daughter, Skylar. I’ve been around her and she looks like me, but the more I think about it, she could be my brother’s. Around the time I slept with Prancer, she was sleeping with my half- brother. At first, all I had to do was give her some money and she disappeared, but now she was threatening me to come around more or she’ll tell Cinnamon. I did what I had to do to keep peace in my household, but Prancer wasn’t going to get shit out of me if she didn’t agree to a blood test.
The shower was running when I walked in our master, opening the bathroom door I was rushed by the Mad About You, Bath and Body Works body spray. That was my favorite scent of Cinnamon. Climbing in the shower with her, I took over washing her body with her. Soft moans escaped her lips as I rubbed gently on her sensitive spots. Once she was nice and clean, and my dick was good and hard, I dried her off and carried her to our bedroom.
