A repeat with Toya and her wife sucking my dick couldn’t eradicate my frustrations. Fuck! I wish my wife would shut the fuck up. I couldn’t hear myself think.
“Forget it! Just recommit to making your family a priority and an exclusive and we’ll be back on the right track.”
“My family has always been my priority.”
My wife created my second-class ranking. I flipped through channels. Selected HGTV. Arizona and I dreamt of buying a fixer-upper in Conyers, customizing every detail. Exploring the world together starting with Bora Bora. If Will and Jada could redesign homes, maybe I could repair my household.
Exhaling the loudest, “Ha!” Mercedes couldn’t stop laughing.
I’d have to tear my wife down first. Not sure it or she was worth my trouble, I picked up my keys, “I’ll be back.”
My decision to stay married could have been easier if she would have stopped bitchin’. My God!
Mercedes clawed at my shirt, scratched my back. Crying, she begged, “Don’t leave me for her! We need you!”
She sure as hell didn’t act as though she loved, appreciated, or needed my ass. The kids did.
“Get off of me,” I yelled, shoving her. She stumbled to the floor.
“I hate you!” she screamed up at me, then started crying.
Dropping to my knees, I held her. “Honey, I’m sorry but you have got to stop. Attacking me is making our situation worse. First you degrade me verbally. I’m not going to become a battered husband.”
I helped her up. “Say what you mean,” I said, sitting beside her on the sofa. “I’ll listen. Then you need to shut up and let me get it all out without judgment.”
Sniffling, my wife regurgitated the same concerns. This time I heard her. She was hurting. She was embarrassed. My wife was scared.
“I have something I want to show you,” Mercedes said.
She stood, raised her dress, lowered her panties, and put her pussy in my face. I’d seen it before. What was different?
Hold up Wait. Show? Or give? She was going to let me go all in? Picking up my cell, I texted Toya, Pick up my kids, please . . . and keep them for a few hours. I’ll pick them up from your house later.
Toya texted back, U Sure
Positive
CHAPTER 48
Mercedes
When had I stopped acknowledging that my husband loved me? I’d rationed my vagina to Benjamin as though it was a treat reserved for special occasions—birthdays, holidays, good behavior. The way Arizona sucked my husband’s dick, I saw how much she enjoyed pleasing him. I hated seeing her do what I wouldn’t even do upon request. Arizona would do the same in her next affair. She was a whore. I was sure of it.
“Let me take a quick shower,” I said, bracing my hand against Benjamin’s forehead.
He held my wrist, buried his face in my new vulva, then inhaled. “Ah. I missed your natural scent.” His next inhale was longer.
“This is your pussy,” I whispered, feeling uncomfortable. Sounded vulgar to my ears. If dirty talk was what men wanted to hear, I might as well practice on my husband.
“That’s what I’m talking about, bitch. Let me fuck my pussy.”
I froze. Stepped back. “Where’d you learn to speak such language?”
He moved closer to my vagina. I was no man’s bitch.
We were a young couple. I was twenty-seven. He was thirty. I made time for the twins, for my clients. Sex should be on my list of things to do once a week. Honestly, I didn’t want it as much as he did. I’d never cheated on my husband. Revenge was not what I wanted. Sexing another man would degrade me, not him. I needed a man of my house more than I had to have a man in my house. If he was done straying, I’d meet him halfway on the mattress. Benjamin was the only one for me.
“Lie down,” he dictated.
My eyes widened. “On the couch or the floor?”
“The couch,” he said, siting me down.
I stood. “But the kids and our guests sit there.”
“Woman, would you relax for a moment and stop overthinking everything.”
“Okay, let me get a sheet.” I hurried upstairs.
Grabbed a sheet. Decided to check my cell. Responded to a few e-mails from clients. Texted Alexis, How’s Domino? I’m going to see you guys today. Do you need anything?
Devereaux had texted me a photo. Her face shined brighter than I’d ever seen. It’s a relationship ring. Isn’t it gorgeous? I love this man!
The diamonds were absolutely blinding. Was that what Benjamin had bought Arizona? A relationship ring? Never heard of it. But I was sure he hadn’t gotten a ring a half size too big for me.
I replied, Congratulations.
My enthusiasm for my husband faded. I showered, dressed. It was almost time for us to go pick up my kids. Entering the living room, I didn’t see my husband.
I called out, “Benjamin. Where are you, honey?”
The garage door closed. My stomach cramped. I rushed to see what I feared. I stood in the driveway.
“Where are you going?” I asked. “I just need a little more time. Please don’t go.”
Watching me drive him away again was hard. What was wrong with me? Alexis was suddenly supermom. Devereaux was in love. Sandara’s modeling career was back to business thanks to Bing. Her babies’ daddies stopped harassing her for child support. The new guy Delvin was a good fit for baby sis. Then there was my mother. She was planning her first wedding. I was so jealous of Mother, I’d stopped returning her calls and responding to her texts about colors, cakes, dresses, flowers, and so on.
No time for pity, I told myself.
Grabbing my purse, I got in my car and went where I knew I’d find Benjamin. This time I wouldn’t be considerate of him or his mistress.
I was putting an end to my husband’s conveniently running to his mistress every time I didn’t do what he wanted, when he wanted.
One way or another, this was the end.
CHAPTER 49
Blake
“Twenty dozen long-stemmed roses for the altar.”
“Scratch that. Make it fifty dozen,” Brandon said. “All white. I’m ordering magnolias and lilies, too.”
Brandon appeared more excited than I, which was impossible. In ninety days, I’d be Mrs. Blake Sterling. The sound of my new last name thrilled me. I’d practiced enunciating it over and over.
“That’s overkill,” I told him.
“Yes, darling, if you were marrying me. Stop acting like you’re not getting hitched to a man who can not only give you the world but can buy your replacement too if you fuck up. I wish he was a little gay. Straight women are too conservative for rich men.”
Leave it to Brandon, he had everybody’s relationship figured out except his own.
Magazines, books, planners, and color swatches were scattered atop my dining table. I could no longer see the oak wood.
Sitting next to Brandon, I reminded him, “I got my eight-hourlong mile-high wings.”
“Gurl, you just went along with the program. So jump on board for this whirlwind wedding,” he said, twirling with his arms spread east and west. Settling into his seat, he noted, “We need four cakes. Five hundred long-stemmed white chocolate roses for our guests.”
“What? Have you lost your mind?”
I understood why Alexis hadn’t offered to assist. Sandara, Devereaux, and Mercedes, regardless of what they were dealing with, they had no excuse.
“The leaf on the stem will be eighteen-carat gold. The boxes will be black. You can never go wrong with black, honey, which reminds me, I need to send the tailor to Bing for his measurements and I’ll be here for your appointment. I have the perfect design for you. First things first. These thank-you gifts to your guests will be presented by black ballerinas toward the end of the reception.” Brandon raised his left brow. “You know I have to include a few guys.”
My winning this battle was not happening but he was drastically reducing the number of attendees and that was non-negot
iable. The official wedding planner quit shortly after my partnering her with Brandon. I was not telling Bing, nor was I hiring a third.
“Cut the white chocolate roses order by a third. You can leave the gold leaf. I like that. Make it small.”
“With all those folks in your family? Four hundred. Final number. I refuse to be embarrassed.”
I sighed, then countered, “Three fifty.”
“Cool,” he said, smacking his lips. “I’m parched from all this planning. Let’s quench my thirst at the Ritz-Carlton. Lunch is on Mr. Bing’s Luxury Black Card. And don’t forget who ignited the union for you two.” He pressed a few keys on his cell. “Reservation confirmed. Shall we?”
Thank goodness there was a spending limit assigned to the card Bing told me to give Brandon. Cruising in my Ferrari, our drive was less than ten minutes.
Brandon ordered filet mignon. I had grilled salmon. We shared a bottle of champagne.
“What would I do without you?” I told my friend. Exhausted from talking about my arrangements, I asked, “Are you enjoying being president of the bank?”
I was proud of Brandon and of myself for having taught him how to do my job. He was my loyal VP deserving of his promotion. Brandon never left me. Claimed some things were more important than his money.
“Honey, you know me. I love telling people what to do,” he said, placing his tie over his shoulder. “And I learned from the best on how to value my employees. They will do anything for me. I mean kill and hide the body, darling.” His voice lowered when he said, “So tell Bing he’d better treat you right. I’m so happy for you, Blake.”
Brandon rubbed his eyes. The teal-colored suit complemented his pink button-down shirt.
“You may be the only one,” I commented, extending a hug.
“You gets no pity, bitch. You’re getting married. That’s all that matters. What I want to know is why you haven’t mentioned they terminated your ass in Charlotte.” His voice returned to normal range.
Should’ve known he’d know. “I haven’t told anyone.”
“Child, if you think that man doesn’t know, you ain’t fooling nobody but yourself. Word is, he was the one who’d made it happen. But you didn’t hear that from me.”
Normally, I’d be upset. “After sitting by Alexis’s bedside praying not to lose her or my grandson, I have a different perspective on my life. Bing loves me. And if he wants me by his side instead of working nine-to-five for someone else, I can live with that.”
I hadn’t mentioned the sizable deposit. Didn’t want anyone treating me differently. Not that Brandon would but if he loved me for sure not knowing, he might not feel the same if I told him. I was okay with marrying Bing, not his money.
“Speaking of Ms. Alexis, I have to be Domino’s honorary godfather and fashion consultant slash baby room decorator slash personal shopper.”
I laughed. “She’ll love all of that.”
“I’ve been thinking about opening my own clothing store but I have to trim my budget first. Which brings me to, what are you going to do with that fabulous house of yours?”
“If you want it, I’ll gift it to you after the ceremony.”
“Bitch, stop it!” Brandon’s mouth hung open. He leaned close, giving me a tight hug. “Now I know I’ve gone to heaven and God let me come back to move in when?” We laughed as he said, “Thank you. Thank, you.”
“There’s one catch,” I said.
“Bitch, I should’ve known it was too good. What?”
Tears swelled in my eyes. Brandon held my hand. There was no one else I could ask.
“Will you give me away?”
“Like no woman has been given away before, bitch.”
“Thanks.”
CHAPTER 50
Devereaux
Letting go was easier when you had someone to break your fall. “Just dropped the girls off at Etta’s and I’ll pick them up after I’m done. Meetings all day for me but I promise to call you in between. Text me an hour before you finish filming. We can take the girls out for ice cream or something and all spend the night at my place,” Antonio said, getting out of the shower.
“Thanks, babe.” I kissed him, adjusted my cap, then closed the door.
Visions of making love with Antonio scrolled through my mind as hot water splashed against my body. Spooning when we were too tired to make love. Early morning quickies. Waking up to his head between my thighs. I’d never tire of this man or take him for granted.
Slipping on a summer dress and sandals, I powdered my brows, then coated my lips with a cotton candy pink gloss. Dabbing perfume behind each ear, I exited into my garage. There was a handwritten note on my windshield.
Miss you already. Have an amazing day.—Antonio
The little thoughtful things Antonio did made me realize there was always time for couples to bond. He’d pick up the girls, cook or order takeout for dinner for the four of us. I’d comb hair and lay out the girls’ clothes for the next day, eat with them, then I’d go to my writing room for a few hours while Antonio responded to e-mails.
Phoenix was consumed with trying to become successful at my expense. He’d sexed me but that wasn’t the same as making love to me. I wasn’t sure Phoenix knew how to give all of himself to a woman in a way that would leave her feeling like his queen. I was blessed to have met Antonio.
En route to the studio, I commanded the Bluetooth in my car, “Call Antonio.”
“Good morning, beautiful.”
“I wanted to hear your voice before starting my day. Thanks for the note.”
“I’m glad you called. Let me know if you’re available for a quick cocktail before I get the girls?” The enthusiasm filled my heart with love and lust.
“Is seven okay?” I asked.
I thought about my sister Mercedes. She had many challenges to overcome. She was learning a valuable lesson. I liked the new her. Benjamin’s zero tolerance for her rudeness forced her to respect me.
“Seven is perfect. I’ll text you the location, babe. And . . .” He paused, then said, “I have a film deal opportunity. For us.”
“Ah! Are you serious?” I screamed with excitement followed by, “Ahh!” filled with fear. I ended the call, got out of my car.
“Are you okay? Say something, please!” I cried. “What have I done?”
The body was stretched in front of my tires. “Are you okay?” I yelled.
Reaching in my cup holder, I got my phone. A call registered from Antonio. I ended it.
Calling 9-1-1 was more important. “Yes, I hit someone. They’re under my car. God! Please! Send an ambulance. Quick,” I cried, giving them the address to my studio.
“Is the person breathing?” the operator questioned.
“I don’t know. Let me see.”
I hated how pedestrians in Atlanta walked in front or behind moving vehicles. This was all my fault. I should’ve been paying attention.
They were facedown. A hood covered the back of their head. Kneeling beside the person, the combination of the stench and the nervousness in the pit of my stomach made me puke on them.
“I’m so sorry,” I cried, then asked, “Are you okay?”
Antonio parked off to the side. Hurried to me. “Babe, what happened?” He placed his arm around me. “Don’t touch ’em. Get up and stand back. Let the paramedics do their job.”
They rushed to the person on the ground, turned them over, and proceeded to check the person’s vitals.
“He’s breathing,” one paramedic said. “Goddamn!” he said, then rattled his head.
“What is it?” Antonio questioned.
“That’s what I want to know. He alive but he smells like he’s dead.” The paramedic walked a short distance. Inhaled several times.
Both paramedics placed masks over their nose and mouth. Rolling the man onto the gurney, I threw up again. I was speechless.
Antonio asked, “Babe, you okay? Do we need to get you checked out?”
Staring at the man l
ying before us, I said, “Antonio, Phoenix. Phoenix, Antonio.”
The paramedics strapped Phoenix’s legs, waist, and chest.
“I love you, Dev. I will always love you,” Phoenix said.
“You know this person?” one of the paramedics questioned.
Staring at the man who fathered our child. The man who’d asked me to marry him. The man whom I still had love for but was no longer in love with. I shook my head.
Phoenix sat up. “You gon’ know me when we get to court.” He reclined on the stretcher, folded his arms over his chest, said to the paramedics, “Let’s roll.”
I parked my car. Watched the ambulance drive off with my ex, with my daughter’s father. With a liar, user, and cheater who I knew would settle out of court for a few dollars.
I had no regrets leaving Phoenix. Should’ve left him behind bars.
I texted Mercedes, Thanks, Sis. I love you.
CHAPTER 51
Sandara
“Please. Stop. You’re gonna make me cry,” I said, holding my friend.
“I’m happy for you,” Remy sobbed. “If anybody deserves a good life and a great guy, it’s you.”
I wiped the water from her cheeks. Remy had never met her dad. Her kids didn’t know their father. Were we to blame for our bad choices? Or did black men only want to stick their dick in us, then fuck the next chick? Dating a man with a black mother and Italian father showed me that men of other nationalities loved, adored, and respected black women.
“You can move with us. I bought a house large enough for the seven of us. We’ll work it out,” I told her, not wanting to leave her in Little Five Points. “And, I can ask Delvin to hook you up with one of his boys.”
Shaking her head she forced a smile. “Welfare, Section 8, being the best mom I know how, partying and making a few dollars on the side, that’s what I know. What my kids are familiar with, you know. I’d move to Bankhead before I do Buckhead. Your mom works for a bank. My mother doesn’t even have a savings or checking account. You were on Section 8 by choice. I’m not a fashion model like you. Look at me,” she said.
The One I've Waited For Page 24
