by Deja King
The more money Brian spent on me, the more I asked for and the more resentful he became. Brian felt that if he didn’t give me what I wanted and didn’t spend his money on me, I would leave him. And you know what? He was right. I would make it clear every day that I really didn’t give a fuck how he felt or what he thought. If he concluded, because he had some baby mama and a child, that I was going to be deprived of what I wanted, then fuck him—and them. I became bitchy and said many despicable things about him, his child, his mother, and anybody affiliated with him. But it really wasn’t me talking. It was the person inside me, the one who was dying from a broken heart. Overnight I’d become a bitter bitch, and I hadn’t even reached my mid-twenties. I had never felt so betrayed, and I wanted Brian to feel the pain that he had caused me. I would say and do things just to bring him grief. I was out for blood, and he was definitely my prey.
No matter what I did, I constantly thought about my situation with Brian, and my anger continued to brew. I became increasingly curious about who this other woman in his life was. I had visualized all sorts of scenarios and wanted my mind at rest. My dear friend Melanie, with her great detective work, was able to obtain Brian’s address. I imagined him living in some elaborate house, like the estates in Timberline at Alpine, and playing house with a beautiful woman and an adorable child. If true, it would give me the strength to just walk away. I would have to bow out gracefully because no woman can ever compete with a package like that. I know when something is a losing battle. I can embrace that disappointment and move on.
All women should know that if you ever meet a man who has a beautiful woman and a beautiful child and they are living an ideal life, well, you can never come between that. Even if the man decides to be with you, part of his heart will always be with them. I had to see once and for all if that was what I was up against.
“Melanie, pull over. That’s the place right there,” I said, pointing to a small condo complex.
“Hmm, this is where big-time music producer Brian McCall lives? I thought he would be living a little better than this,” Melanie moaned.
“You know Brian, always saving for a rainy day.”
“He must be trying to save for a rainy year by the looks of this place.”
“It’s not that bad, Melanie.”
“For the type of paper he’s making, it ain’t that good.”
Ignoring Melanie’s comment, I glanced at my watch, calculating the time I believed Beverly would show up. Brian was at the studio and would be there until late, so I figured she would be home soon because of the baby. Fifteen minutes later we saw a car pull up that resembled Brian’s, and a couple of seconds later a woman stepped out. I was on the passenger side so she and I were basically face-to-face. I knew it was Beverly. I politely smiled and said, “I’m sorry. I’m lost; this is the wrong address.”
“No problem,” the woman said after a long pause. As Melanie made a U-turn, my blood pressure started to rise.
“This is what that nigga fucked up my heart for? A pathetic life in the cut with this chick? Unbelievable! Take me home.”
When I got to my apartment I crawled into bed, and all I could say was, Why me?
A few days later Brian and I were off to Los Angeles for the Soul Train Awards. It was freezing in New York, and I knew the LA sun would do me some good. We stayed at my favorite hotel, the L’Ermitage Beverly Hills. The room had a contemporary decor with a delicate infusion of Euro-Asian ambiance. While I was in the spacious walk-in closet getting dressed for the awards, the eye-spy encounter with Brian’s baby mother kept flashing in my head. I was rolling my eyes at him, so he finally snarled, “Why you giving me those dirty looks? What’s on your mind?” I shrugged my shoulders, avoiding the conversation. But then he had the audacity to say, “If you’re wondering if she picks out my clothes, she doesn’t.”
I wanted to scream, “I don’t give a fuck whether she picks out your clothes or picks out your ass! I’m trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with me, that I’m dealing with a contemptible rat like you!” But I knew that would ruin our evening. I was thinking it so hard though, I wondered if he could read my mind.
I knew I needed to leave Brian, but I wanted to take him down. We were together in the physical form, but there was no respect. In fact, I had zero respect for him. To guarantee that was clear, at any given opportunity I’d embarrass him in front of his friends by being rude and disrespectful. Hell, they weren’t my friends. They were the same clowns who stayed in the mountains with me for months and months, hee-heeing and ha-haing. But while they were in my face running off at the mouth, none of them bothered to reveal Brian had a girlfriend and a baby on the way. They were probably too busy hiding their own skeletons. But by this time I didn’t give a damn what they thought about me, because it couldn’t have been any worse than what I thought about them.
Brian and I were sitting in the third row at the Soul Train Awards, and every time someone came up to him, he introduced me as his girlfriend. “Don’t you feel like a hypocrite introducing me as your girlfriend when you already have one sitting at home with your baby?”
“We already discussed this. Beverly isn’t my girlfriend. You are,” he howled.
“Oh, so she’s just your live-in baby mother?”
“Temporarily. I’m working on that. You need to stop worrying about Beverly and concentrate on us. She is irrelevant to our relationship.”
“You don’t care what people are probably saying behind your back? Oh, he got his baby mother stashed at home and his socalled girlfriend on his arm.”
“Hell, no. I don’t care. The dirty laundry these motherfuckers got stored in their closets makes mine look sparkling clean.”
Brian constantly ridiculed his friends and industry peers for their trifling behavior. He considered himself different and of a higher moral standard, and he would never approve of their indecency. I now had more respect for them than him, because at least they were straight up with the chicks they messed around with. For instance, one of Leon’s jump-offs, Courtney, was in LA too, but she knew her position. When Brian and I went to Leon’s room to get him, Courtney answered the door in her pajamas. When I asked her if she was coming, Leon said, “Nah, she ain’t going. She’s staying right here and babysitting this room until I get back. You think I’m taking the chance getting caught out there and letting it get back to my baby mother or one of her friends? Courtney knows what time it is.” Courtney kissed Leon as he walked out the door, and told us bye like it was all good.
The next day Brian and I were strolling around the Beverly Center, when all the built-up anger in me boiled over. “I hate you and I hate myself even more for being in this nightmare called a relationship,” I bawled, not caring who heard me. These outbursts were becoming frequent, and Brian became so fed up, he flipped out and bitch slapped me right there in the Beverly Center.
There it was once again: the cycle. They hit you once; they hit you twice. They hit you again, again, and again. Violence soon became a normal part of our relationship. I would beat him with my words. He would beat me with his fist. I got back at Brian by making him jealous. The dysfunction continued. And got worse.
I was becoming increasingly aggravated with how slowly things were progressing with Brian. Earlier that day we had gotten into a huge argument because I dared to ask how much longer it was going to take before Beverly was on her own and out of his life. I knew she would never be completely nonexistent, because they shared a child together, but their living under the same roof was taking a greater emotional toll on me than I expected. After our heated confrontation, I stormed out of my apartment and went to see Melanie. When I first left, I refused to answer Brian’s calls, but if nothing else, he’s persistent.
Pacing back and forth at Melanie’s apartment I said, “I’m sick of you and this emotional roller coaster that seems to have no end in sight!” I sat down on her burgundy sofa.
“Save it, Tyler, you’re the silly bitch that doesn’t
want to get off ranting and raving about the same shit over and over again. You think you’re fed up? I’m spending more time and money on you than ever before, but instead of being content, you complain like an old nagging wife. Fuck that. You’re worse than a wife. If we were married, I wouldn’t have to put up with half of your crazy-ass demands. These shenanigans are wearing me down.”
“Well, you don’t have to be bothered with it any longer. I’m done fucking with you. The next man will be more than happy to pick up where you left off.” Click was all he heard as he let out a word in response.
Forty-five minutes later we heard a knock. Melanie opened the door, and standing before her was Brian. He shoved her out the way, and with intense rage he lunged at me, grabbed my hair, and said, “We’re going the fuck home!” When I resisted, he reached in his dark blue baggy jeans, pulled out a nine-millimeter handgun, put it to my head, and yelled, “I will blast you and then kill myself because I don’t give a fuck!” I could barely see his eyes under his Yankees baseball cap. I was panic-stricken.
Melanie was freaking out. She’d forgotten how demented Brian could behave sometimes. As Melanie darted across the room to call the police, she bumped into the coffee table and fell on the floor. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. Brian peered at her with hate in his eyes and yelled, “You started this, bitch. This is your fucking fault.”
After Brian found out it was Melanie who had opened Pandora’s box, he loathed her. Now it gave him pleasure to see her helpless on the floor. When Melanie reached for the cordless phone, I begged her not to call the police. She stared at me with confusion. My heart was pounding, but I didn’t want Brian to go to jail and I didn’t believe he would actually kill me. For a brief second I closed my eyes to gather my thoughts. I spoke to Brian in a soft and easy, almost hypnotic tone. “Baby, I love you; I know that we belong together. Every word I spoke was out of anger and frustration, and I apologize. Please forgive me.” The words flowed with such ease that I believed what I said. Brian released my hair and put the gun away.
“Melanie, I know it’s asking a lot to excuse Brian’s behavior, but please let us handle this on our own.” With a look of fear and disgust she reluctantly agreed.
My life was spiraling out of control, and I didn’t know how to stop it. Normalcy was desperately needed, but no matter how much drama Brian and I went through or how much pain we caused one another, when we made love we became one. Our chemistry was intoxicating, and whatever Brian’s faults, our connection was stronger and more passionate than ever. My heart hungered to go back to the time when I admired him and thought he had the most beautiful soul in the world. Now our relationship was full of misplaced obsession, with no trust or faith. I looked in the mirror, facing my inner monsters. With great stupidity I had believed I could use Brian to get over him, but instead my emotions had fallen into a bottomless pit.
Second Chance at Real Love
From the outside it seemed Brian was treating me like a princess. He would send truckloads of flowers to the office, and Chrissie would complain, “Why can’t I find a man to show me that kind of love?” It got to the point that she told Brian she was banning him from sending anything else. He had chocolates, balloons, and even all-day gift certificates to plush spas delivered. Or sometimes he’d send an invitation telling me to meet him at a suite in a five-star hotel. When I arrived, rose petals were everywhere, and he’d bathe me and wash my hair in the Jacuzzi while I drank champagne. He stepped his romantic game up to the next level. So the night I surprised Brian by telling him I was pregnant, he promised he would take care of me as his queen for the rest of his life.
“Ella, I wanted to tell you that you’re going to be an auntie,” I said excitedly while getting a pedicure.
“You’re pregnant? If this is what you want, I’m happy for you, Tyler.”
“Of course I’m happy. I’ll finally have the chance to make things right. I will give this baby all the unconditional love that no man has ever deserved from me. The bond I’ll have with this child, no one will ever be able to break.”
“Does that mean you guys have worked everything out? Less than a year ago you found out he was living a double life. On top of that, once again you fell into yet another abusive relationship. Have any of those issues been resolved?”
“Things are different between us. Brian promises that soon everything will be completely resolved with Beverly, and the abuse has been nonexistent. He is thrilled about the baby, and he truly wants us to be a family.” Not only was I trying to convince Ella that this was true, but I was also trying to convince myself.
“I hope you’re right, Tyler, because you deserve to be happy. You’ve been through so much, and now a baby is growing inside you. I pray that it all works out the way you want it to.”
“Thanks, Ella.”
“Of course, let’s go out to dinner soon and celebrate. I’ll call you later this week to find out what day and time are good for you.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you soon.” I was so glad Ella was being supportive. This was the happiest time of my life, and I wanted to share it with her.
A few weeks later Brian left for a week-long business trip. Because he was a top executive with a ton of responsibilities, I thought nothing of his travel plans. A couple of days after Brian left, I ran into Courtney after work.
“What’s up, girl? I haven’t seen you since LA,” I said, giving Courtney a hug. “What you been up to?”
“Nothing—just working and fucking around with Leon Crazy-ass. I was going to the diner to get a bite to eat. Come with me so we can play catch-up.”
“Sure,” I agreed, knowing something was up.
As Courtney ate a turkey burger, she casually said, “You know Brian took Beverly and the baby to Aruba for a family vacation?” She glanced up at me, waiting for my reaction. I was livid, but I wasn’t about to let that hating-ass bitch know it.
“Really? He forgot to mention that when he slipped this ice on my hand before he left,” I said, coolly placing my engagement ring under her nose and thinking, Eat this, bitch. Courtney sat there with her mouth wide open, annoyed by both my reaction and my ring. I finally said, “Dear, close your mouth before something flies in.”
When I left the diner, I was burning up inside, so much so that when I opened my mouth I knew fire was going to come out. Walking to the parking garage to get my car, I was talking to myself out loud. People were staring at me as if I were crazy. I screamed to one passing pedestrian, “This is New York City! Don’t act like you’ve never seen someone talking to themselves!” I got in my car and slammed the door. As I headed toward the George Washington Bridge, my cell phone chimed and Brian’s name popped up. Without even a hello I said, “Where are you?”
“You know where I am—LA,” Brian said.
“Is that right?” I retorted.
“Tyler, don’t start. What the fuck is up now?”
“I heard you took Beverly and the baby on a vacation to Aruba.” There was a pause, and I knew it was true.
“That’s a damn lie. Who told you that bullshit?”
“Nigga, fuck you! You do you, and I’m gonna do me.” After hanging up I immediately dialed Courtney’s cell. “How about Mr. Chow’s tonight, my treat? I’ll pick you up around nine.”
When I picked Courtney up, I had on my perfect-fitting Blue Cult jeans and silk lime-green Plein Sud shirt. Although I was four months pregnant, I wasn’t showing, and my clothes still fit just right. My plan was to have a ball tonight, and I wanted to dress sexy for the occasion. Brian had been calling me nonstop ever since I hung up on him, and he called three more times while Courtney was in the car. He blocked his number, as if I didn’t know it was him. After the fourth unanswered call, Court-ney’s phone went off. “It’s Leon; I need to get that,” she said enthusiastically, not putting two and two together. I could hear him giving her the third degree.
“Where you at, Courtney?” Leon demanded to know.
“On my way
to dinner,” she said, fidgeting with her cell phone.
“With who?”
“Nobody you know—just a girlfriend from work.”
“It better not be Tyler, ’cause that’s gonna cause a serious problem between us.” There was a long break, and then Leon said, “Did you tell Tyler that Brian took Beverly and the baby to Aruba?”
Courtney swallowed hard and replied, “No.”
“All right, I’ll call you back.”
Before Courtney and I could even discuss Leon’s call, Brian was blowing up my phone again. Of course I didn’t answer, so once again Leon called Courtney. But this time he was on three-way with Brian. I heard Brian bark, “Put Tyler on the phone.” Being the Leon pleaser that she is, Courtney handed me the phone. I heard Brian say, “Go home now. I don’t know why you think I’m with Beverly and the baby, but I’m not.”
I took a deep sigh and squealed, “Go fuck yourself. If you want to take your baby mother on a trip, then you need to be with her and leave me the hell alone.”
“Yo, when I get home, it’s so over for you.” “That won’t be for a few days, so it gives me plenty of time to enjoy myself,” I said. Then I hung up the phone.
Courtney and I dined at Mr. Chow’s, and I was enjoying myself. I wasn’t thinking about what Brian was doing with his baby mother. I didn’t give a damn; it was all about a party for me. Brian continued to blow up my phone, so I turned it off. Then he and Leon started calling Courtney, and of course she got on the phone, entertaining the bullshit. Meanwhile Leon had two kids with his baby mother and about twenty other jump-offs just like Courtney. But in her pathetic little mind, she figured if she acted like a good girl, maybe she would be “the one.” Lies, bitch. I asked Courtney to hang up so we could enjoy our dinner, and finally she gave in to my request.
