“I do,” Terrance said with a huge smile.
Sasha wore a matching smile. She had never felt more beautiful in her life. Time hadn’t allowed for Sasha to get a gown specially made, but Norman had worked his magic. He’d gotten Sasha a one-of-a-kind original recently created by one of the top-of-the-line designers for the stars in Atlanta. After a little taking in and out of the seams here and there, it was a perfect fit.
But could Sasha say the same about herself and Terrance?
Not even a full year ago had she arrived in Atlanta, single and on a mission, and now she was married and in love. Or did she just love Terrance? How could one really describe being “in love” if it’s something they’d never experienced before?
“Then I now pronounce you both man and wife,” the minister said. “Terrance.” He looked to Terrance, who stood across from Sasha all smiles in his white tuxedo.
Terrance wore a black cummerbund and bowtie. Norman had tried his best to get the athlete to wear the purple accessories. Terrance said he felt like the late, great Prince and opted to wear only a purple boutonniere.
“You may kiss your bride,” the minister announced.
There was no veil for Terrance to lift off his new bride’s face. Sasha had settled for a crystal crown-like tiara that made her look like the queen she felt like at that moment.
Terrance gently pulled Sasha in by the face and planted the biggest, juiciest kiss ever on her. It looked like love. The guests laughed again.
Terrance pulled away and looked Sasha in her eyes. “I love you, wifey.” He looked down at her stomach then back into her eyes. “I know it seems like we just met yesterday and everything moved fast, but we have to remind ourselves that life is not on our time.” He looked upward. “It’s on His.”
Sasha looked up at the stained glass windows as well. The two just stood there together, holding hands, looking to the heavens. A warmth flowed through their beings. It felt like love.
This was the first time she and Terrance had stepped foot in a church together. In her mind she’d planned on them finding a church home together and standing in the house of the Lord side by side someday getting their praise on, but it was clear that God had simply been laughing at her plans all along. It only made sense that Sasha finally accepted that now.
“I love you too, husband,” Sasha said. It sounded like love.
Terrance kissed his new bride again; this time they devoured each other’s tongues. It tasted like love.
Sasha inhaled the cologne that wafted from Terrance’s neck into her nostrils. It was a bottle he’d had flown from Spain when he couldn’t find it anywhere in the States. Hell, it even smelled like love.
Terrance looked down at the broom that lay on the ground. “Before we jump this thing, we have to agree to one thing,” Terrance said.
“What’s that?” Sasha asked.
“That for the sake of our child, divorce is never an option.”
Terrance was wasting his breath on that one right there. Sasha had grown into a whole different woman since moving to Atlanta. But one thing that was not going to change about her was the fact of who she’d end up being. Never mind who she was now, but being a single momma donning the title of baby momma was not in the cards for her.
When she’d told Terrance she was pregnant, he displayed no mixed emotions at all. He jumped up with excitement and immediately began deciding which guest room would soon become the nursery. He looked more like a football player than a basketball player as he did the touchdown dance. The same you-are-not-the-father-dance Sasha had seen men do on talk shows was the one Terrance was doing upon finding out he was the father. He’d looked as though he’d been playing the lotto for years and finally hit. Once he was able to calm himself down, he looked to Sasha.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” he’d asked Sasha. “It means I have to make an honest woman out of you.” Terrance had then told her to hold on, that he’d be right back.
He zipped off and out of that house but was back in an hour. He raced up to Sasha with sweat on his forehead as he got down on one knee. “Sasha Wellington, the mother of my child, will you marry me? Will you be more than just my friend, more than just my confidante and way, way, much more than just my baby momma?” He chuckled while Sasha stood there in pure awe.
“Will you be the woman who I take care of for the rest of my life? Will you be the woman of my dreams and let me help to make all your dreams come true?”
In that moment Sasha was reminded that she had dreams. Just like she’d told Norman, she wasn’t giving them up. But she was putting them on hold while life, love, and family happened.
Terrance opened the ring box he’d had balled in his hand. Staring at Sasha was not only Terrance, but a flawless seven-carat diamond ring. “Will you? Will you marry me, Sasha?” He put his other hand on her belly. “And will you marry me, too, little one?”
Either way it went, how could Sasha say no to that . . . How could she say no to him? She didn’t say no, and now just a week and a half later they were married. Sasha was now a wife.
So the blueprint, at least the one Sasha had spent her entire life planning out, had been crumpled up and tossed into the wind. It had been blown away the same way Terrance had blown Sasha away. Right now, finding another job didn’t matter, finding a space for a boutique didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered, as Sasha’s mother had said, was the fact that Sasha was happy. And in this moment she could honestly, one hundred percent say that she was happy.
Guests threw rice at the newlyweds and cheered as the couple made their way down the church aisle toward the doors.
“Well, I guess she’s off to live her happily ever after,” Paris said to Casey. “And just to think, that could have been me once upon a time had I let the fairy tale play out.”
“Shhh.” Casey was quick to elbow Paris and look around to make sure the handful of people hadn’t heard her. “That’s all water under the bridge now. This isn’t about Terrance’s past with you, but his future with Sasha. Now just stand there, clap, and be happy for her.”
Paris rolled her eyes up in her head as she began to clap.
“Good girl,” Casey said to her. “Besides, don’t get too jealous. What looks like happily ever after is only part-time bliss. There’s a lot of work that goes into being a baller’s wife.” Casey looked on as the couple made their way over the threshold. “And unless Sasha can get with the rules of the game quick, fast, and in a hurry, Terrance will be a free agent again before you know it. And who knows, maybe you’ll get a second shot.”
Paris took in Casey’s words as a mischievous grin spread across her lips. “Humph, then I guess I better work on my free throws, huh?”
The two women laughed.
Terrance and Sasha disappeared from the doorway, headed to the waiting limousine to start their life together. Hopefully, prayerfully, as Sasha had cried out, Jesus would take the wheel, because unbeknownst to her, she and Terrance were headed in two different directions, which was going to make for one hell of a ride.
Epilogue
“Answer the damn phone, Terrance!” Sasha screamed at her cell phone. Sasha had been trying to get in touch with him all night. First she feared something bad had happened to him, because who tells their new wife that they have to go run pick up something and then doesn’t come back? When her call went to Terrance’s voice mail, Sasha hit the end button and slammed the phone down next to her on the bed. At least the logical side of her thought to slam the phone down on the bed instead of throwing it across the room. Hearing the crashing sound and then looking up at the bedroom flat-screen television was a sign that the illogical, out-of-control side of Sasha had won out. Sasha had blacked out and could not account for the past two seconds, which is about how long it would have taken for her to fling that remote toward the television. Sasha had never broken a nail, let alone broken something in her home, on purpose!
Terrance wasn’t answering his phone, and that se
emed like the only thing that was going to calm Sasha down right now. She needed to hear his voice, to know that he was okay. Once she learned that he was okay, she needed to know why in the hell he would leave his pregnant wife alone on their wedding night. Taking a deep breath, Sasha decided she’d make sure he wasn’t somewhere in the mansion, maybe passed out from all the Champagne he’d drunk to the continuous toasts Eric’s drunk ass kept making. There was a slim chance, but it was possible, that Terrance had come home, that he just hadn’t made it up to bed and was perhaps in one of the other rooms in the home.
Sasha shot up off the bed and began going from room to room. “Terrance? Terrance?” she called out with each and every door she opened and closed. The more empty rooms Sasha found, the angrier she got. Before she knew it, if that room had a television in it, it now matched the one in their bedroom. It now matched her soul: damaged. But there was still hope as Sasha decided to go to the room she had yet to check, the home theatre.
“Terrance, are you down here?” she asked as she walked down the set of carpeted steps. “Please be down here,” she whispered to herself.
When Sasha made it to the bottom landing, there was no Terrance in sight. The room was just as clean and untouched as Miss Hart had left it the day before their wedding. She’d made sure the house was cleaned to perfection from top to bottom since the couple had given her the weekend off.
“Damn you, Terrance!” Sasha screamed. This time there was no blackout. She saw her hand go for the huge pottery bowl they’d sometimes eat popcorn out of while watching a movie. She pulled her hand behind her head then let the bowl rip. The home theatre screen even—trashed!
If Terrance wasn’t watching his past games on television, he was watching other teams play. If he wasn’t doing that, he was playing a game of Madden. Well, he wouldn’t be doing any of the above any time soon. Lucky for Terrance that Sasha was taking out her frustration on the televisions and not on him.
Busting up the television might have given Sasha a second of gratification and revenge, but not for long. A broken Sasha dropped to her knees where she’d stood and cried out in pain. This could not truly be day one of the beginning of her life as one with Terrance. The feeling was so surreal to her. She shook her head as if she could shake the happenings away. This person, this woman full of an emotion she’d never experienced before, as such pain had never been inflicted on her heart before, was a stranger to Sasha. She wanted her out of her house, but the best thing she could do right now was to pick herself up and attempt to leave that broken woman on the floor.
Sasha gathered her composure and stood. She brushed herself off and made her way up the steps with her head held high.
Even though the couple had pulled the wedding together in record time, because of Terrance’s games, they hadn’t been able to go on their honeymoon. They planned on taking one just as soon as the season was over. Ironically, it looked as though the honeymoon was over before it ever even began.
This wasn’t the first time ever in their entire relationship that Terrance had stayed out all night. It had happened twice before. There was the one time when Sasha had fallen asleep on the couch waiting up all night for Terrance. Then there was the time not too shortly after that when he’d sworn he’d told her he had an overnight appearance in a neighboring town. He’d had what seemed like legitimate excuses. But to stay out all night—on their wedding night, no less—felt like an abomination. Sasha didn’t know how to act. She wasn’t used to this kind of behavior, but she knew someone who was.
She went into the kitchen, picked up the phone, and dialed. “Hey, girl!” Sasha said, trying to sound joyful, like a blushing new bride should sound.
“Hey, what’s up?” Casey said, sounding a little confused. “But clearly not too much if you’re calling me a day after your wedding. Shouldn’t you and your man be having breakfast in bed? Or at least be each other’s breakfast?” Casey laughed.
A sound came from Sasha’s mouth that at first Casey thought was laughter. But once Casey stopped laughing her own self, she realized that the sound erupting from Sasha’s throat was anything but.
“Sash, what’s going on?”
“He’s gone. He’s not here. He didn’t come home last night.” Sasha hadn’t intended on sounding so pitiful. Sasha breathed deep breaths through the phone line and into Casey’s ear. It sounded as if Sasha was hyperventilating.
“Calm down. Just calm down, Sasha, please. You’re pregnant. This is too much stress on the baby, I’m sure. Do you want me to come over?”
Sasha nodded, tears caught in her throat, preventing her from speaking.
“I’m on my way.” Casey didn’t even wait for Sasha to reply.
Sasha figured that if anyone knew all too well what she was going through, it was Casey. Even though it felt like a long shot, Sasha hoped that Casey could help her get through this; the same way she had many a time.
In hindsight, Sasha realized that Casey was a living example of what it was like to be the wife of an NBA player. Now Sasha wished that Casey had been less diplomatic. But Sasha had turned a deaf ear, feeling as though she was no Casey and Terrance was no Eric.
Sasha’s mother had a saying that sometimes you just have to let a person jump in the water to see how deep it is for themselves. Perhaps this was one of those moments for Sasha. Hopefully she wouldn’t drown.
“Okay,” Sasha managed to say before hanging up the phone. Knowing Casey was on her way, Sasha went to her bathroom and retrieved the Visine. She didn’t want to look as distraught as she felt.
Just as she put the last drop in her eye, she heard something. It sounded like the chiming sound the front door made whenever it opened. Sasha hurried down to the foyer, where she saw a staggering Terrance making his way into the great room.
It was when Terrance flopped down on the couch that he finally noticed Sasha. “Oh, hey,” he said.
Even though Sasha could have burst a gasket, she tried to remain as cool, calm, and collected as she possibly could. She’d watched reality shows before. She’d seen how the scorned, pissed-off women had been portrayed. She’d always questioned whether or not that was all for ratings. Well, she had no viewers to appease, so there was no need for her to act out of character and try to go ham.
Sasha took a deep breath and simply looked down at her watch.
Terrance followed suit and looked down at his. “Oh, shit. It’s eleven o’clock.”
“So you can tell time,” Sasha said sarcastically.
“Yes, I can,” Terrance confirmed. He let out a hiccup. He then looked over Sasha’s shoulder at the daylight peeking through the drapes. “Then, damn, what’s for breakfast?”
Sasha had to wait for it . . . wait for Terrance to say that he was just kidding. No way was this man serious.
He doesn’t come home or answer his phone all night, and when he does finally return, the next freaking morning, all he can say is, “What’s for breakfast?”
“You practically leave me at the altar and that’s all you have to say?” Sasha said.
“I didn’t leave you at no altar.” Terrance stood up. It was a struggle, but he managed to stop wobbling and stand erect. Sure, they’d had several toasts at the wedding reception, but it was clear Terrance had chased the Cristal down with something a little bit stronger. The alcohol emanating from his pores proved such. “I made an honest woman out of you, which is more than I can say I did for the ones before you.”
Sasha’s heart nearly dropped out of her chest. Terrance had never, ever spoken to her so callously and uncaringly. So this is what Terrance looked like in a drunken state. This is what he sounded like. This is how he acted. Even if this was just the alcohol talking, no way would she have ever agreed to marry a man who she even thought had those tendencies. She wouldn’t have cared if she was pregnant or not. Had he come home drunk and out of control that night she’d waited on the couch for him until she’d fallen asleep, she would have moved back into her apartment and lost his nu
mber.
It was like Terrance had done this massive 180. He’d spun so quickly that she never even saw him turn in the slightest. Maybe it was because he had been too busy sweeping her off of her feet and spinning her around, purposely getting her too dizzy so that she wouldn’t be fully in tune with what was going on around her. She was smarter than that. She was stronger than that. Wasn’t she?
Sasha had to stop and think for a minute. Had the signs been there all along? Had this been Terrance’s plan the entire time? To woo her, sweep her off of her feet, stake a claim on her, and get her exactly where he wanted her? Maybe she wasn’t the beard Norman had spoken of, but was there such thing as a mustache? That woman that just makes a man look like he’s a good guy because he’s settled down and married? Makes him feel like a good guy because even though he’s out being a whore, he’s got this beautiful family to come home to and make him feel like a man?
“You know what, coffee is for breakfast,” Sasha said, “because we gotta get that alcohol out of you before we end up in divorce court . . . before the ink even dries on the marriage certificate.”
Terrance let out a drunken laugh. “Stop playing, you know you ain’t going nowhere but in that kitchen to make me some scrambled eggs.” Terrance laughed. “And since it is our wedding day—”
“Yesterday was our wedding day,” Sasha snapped.
“Yeah, yeah, but anyway,”—Terrance waved her off—“since we just got married and all, why don’t you make them eggs butt-naked in some heels?”
If breakfast was what Terrance wanted, then he shouldn’t have given Miss Hart and the other staff the weekend off. And he definitely shouldn’t have given security off, because if he didn’t pull himself together, he was for certain going to need it.
Wives, Fiancées, and Side-Chicks of Hotlanta Page 25
