Even When It's Wrong

by Nicole Jackson

  “And if I am?”

  “You know what? Bye, hoe. I can’t deal with you,” she chided, ending the call.

  I shook my head, as I dropped my phone into my purse. Glancing around the parking lot, I was shocked to see his car already parked. Omari hadn’t shown his face in days, and was finally home, while I wasn’t. Honestly, I couldn’t believe myself how long I’d been putting up with his bullshit. I might as well had been single. The nigga didn’t attend any family gatherings or parties with me. The only time I could get money out of him was when some shit was already disconnected, which interfered with his comfort. But there was one person who seemed to be able to get anything she wanted from him; my daughter.

  There were so many things going on within me and Omari’s relationship that I couldn’t count them all. Sadly, somewhere along the line, I’d stopped addressing things if they were too uncomfortable. I just hoped that no one noticed how I was now okay with my child being anywhere, but at home, alone with my man. I constantly ignored the little jabs that my friends made about Omari and Mya’s closeness, but not because I was afraid to check her ass. The problem was what addressing their closeness could mean…or reveal. Running down Omari about his interactions with my daughter wasn’t something I wanted to do, because what if he came with some answers I didn’t want to hear?

  How would I handle being single again? And most importantly, how would I feel if yet another relationship was ending due to my daughter? For the longest, I flat out refused to let that happen again, which had ultimately led me here. I was confused, hurt, and alone. But tonight? Tonight I was putting all my fears aside, and confronting him head on. The shit had gone too far, and I needed fucking answers.

  So, I slid out of my Jeep, and traveled up the sidewalk. I really didn’t know what to expect, coming home when it was believed that I was out of town. But it didn’t matter, either way it went, because that night was a night of reckoning.

  When I reached my front door, I was about to use my key to unlock it, but the voices that could be heard from the other side told me that it was probably already open. Therefore, I twisted the doorknob, and the door easily creaked open.

  Taking a deep breath, I crossed the threshold, and my heart plummeted to my stomach. Omari was ass naked, lying sideways on the couch, with a hook arm under a equally naked Mya’s leg, as he worked his supposedly broken dick into her, while his mouth was stuffed with half of her tit.

  “The fuck is this?!” I raged, before dropping my purse to the floor, and rushing them.

  “Mama, wait!” the bitch Mya blurted, as I gripped her hair, dragging her across the couch.

  “Meeka, chill, chill,” Omari urged, pulling me into his arms.

  “Let me go!” I belted, realizing that he’d done this to allow Mya to get away. “You was fucking this bitch in my house! My house!”

  “And I apologize,” he’d uttered, as if he’d just admitted to drinking that last of the orange juice out the refrigerator.

  “You apologize? Nigga, you apologize? You had your dick inside of my child!” I beat my chest, as I sobbed.

  “I know it’s fucked up that you found out like this, and that’s why I’m apologizing.”

  “Fuck your apologies!” I seethed. “Where did that bitch go? I’ma kill her ass! Let me go!”

  “Just calm down.”

  “Hell no! Aint no calming down!” I fought against him. “How could you do this to meeeee?”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated, which did little to soothe me.

  “Mya, bitch, you get the fuck outta my house! Now!” I practically jumped up and down, as I’d lost sight of her.

  I saw her stagger into the living room with Omari’s long white tee on, and a huge Ralph Lauren duffel bag in hand. She looked at me with tears clouding her eyes. “I’m so, so, so, sorry. I never meant for this to go this far.”

  “Fuck you!” I fumed, before hocking up, and spitting on her, as Omari held me in his arms.

  “Chill out! You tripping!” he angrily barked, tossing me onto the couch.

  “No, you tripping!” I shot to my feet. Once again, I attempted to leap at Mya, and he grabbed me. Only this time I was able to grasp her hair.

  “Let her go,” Omari gritted, attempting to pry her weave out of my hand.

  “You bitch!” I snarled, attempting to kick that bitch in her face, but he caught my leg. For his efforts, I slapped the fuck out of him. “You really trying to protect this hoe, huh?”

  “Meeka, you tripping. She still your daughter,” he contended, as he held my wrists tightly, before turning to her. “Mya, go take your stuff to the car, while I got her.”

  “To what car?” I questioned, as Mya scurried out of the door, and he released me.

  Quickly, he scrambled to redress.

  “Nigga, you heard me? I said, what car is she going to?” I got in his face, while he stepped in his shoes.

  He lifted his head. “To mine.”

  “To yours?” I bucked my eyes. “Nah, you got me fucked up. You aint giving that hoe a ride nowhere. She can go to her friends, and then call her daddy or whoever else. As long as she don’t come back here. But you aint giving her a ride nowhere. You’ve already done enough.”

  He sucked his teeth, while bringing his chain over his head, placing it around his neck.

  “Did you hear me?!” I pushed him back.

  “Man, watch out,” he murmured, before marching into our bedroom. He headed straight into the closet, grabbing that Louie backpack that usually held his dope.

  “What are you doing?” I pressed, as he grabbed two guns, and a huge bundle of money that he’d somehow managed to hide underneath the carpet without my knowledge.

  “I’ma come back later for all my clothes,” he announced, after stuffing everything into that backpack.

  “Wait, what are you talking about?” I panicked. “Where are you going, Omari?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t stay here no more, Meeka. Not after all this.”

  “You can’t stay after what you did to me? Do you know how that sounds? I’m the victim here.” I pointed at my chest. “But you trying to leave. Please explain to me how that shit works.”

  “I’m done. It’s over. It’s been over, and you know that.”

  I balled my face up in anger. “So, wait a minute. Tell me how I knew anything? What, were you staying here to be with Mya? Are…are you gonna run off and be…be with her?”

  He swallowed, while licking his lips. “However it goes, I hope that one day you can accept it.”

  Before I knew it, I’d hauled off and slapped his ass. “Accept what?! Accept you fucking my daughter out in the open? Is that what you’re saying?”

  He rubbed his cheek, where I’d left a handprint, appearing furious. “Man, move.” He shoved past me. “You aint gotta accept it,” he claimed, as he stomped through the apartment. “But you can’t do nothing to stop it.”

  “What?!” I roared, as I raced after him. Gripping his shirt, I pummeled his back. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Get the fuck off me!” he lashed, pushing me so hard that I tumbled backwards. Snatching the door open, he stomped outside.

  My adrenaline was pumping, as I charged after him. He must’ve been speed walking, because before I could reach the sidewalk, he was at his Benz. He glanced back, seeing me approaching, and quickly hopped into the car.

  “Omari, open the door!” I screamed, before tugging at his door handle, finding it locked. “Open the muthafuckin door!” I slapped his window.

  “Let my door go, Meeka,” he spoke through the glass.

  “No, open this muthafucka!” I shouted, before peering over at Mya in the passenger’s seat. She was sitting with her head down, like she was embarrassed. “Yeah, bitch, you need to hold your head down! I knew your slutty ass was no good. Fucking my muthafuckin man! And he probably wasn’t the first!” I focused on him again. “Omari, baby, open the door. Please. We can work this out, without her
in the middle. Come on, baby! Don’t do this to me,” I broke down, as all my neighbors stepped outside.

  Omari began to back up, nearly driving over my feet. “Nooo!” I tugged on the handle. “Don’t do this to me,” I pleaded, as the sky began to rumble. “Stooooop!” I belted, as he completely backed out of the spot, and was commencing to move forward.

  He cracked his window. “Meeka, let go. Please, I’m begging you. Ion wanna run over your feet.”

  “But that’s what you gonna have to do, cause I aint letting go. You supposed to be my man,” I bawled, as lightning struck. “And now you think that I’m just about to let you leave with that fat manipulative bitch?”

  “Move, man,” he persisted, driving slowly through the lot. “You see it’s raining and shit,” he acknowledged, before it started pouring down.

  The rain was really coming down, and when he picked up the speed, I lost the grip on his door. He then sped off, leaving me behind. Rain beat down on my back, as I felt my world crumbling around me.

  For a few seconds, I stood in the middle of the parking lot, as my chest heaved up and down. I heard and saw thunder and lightning, while silently wishing that I would get struck, and taken out of my misery. Because I didn’t know how I was going to get up and face another day with the world knowing that my daughter had taken my man. With everybody knowing that he’d literally left me out, crying in the rain.

  All this time, something had been telling me that things weren’t right between Omari and Mya. But I think the strongest point was when he’d given me my MK bag and that money…or when Mya did. Right then, something deep down told me that there was more to it. That bag and shoes were just too convenient, as it was in her room. So, I decided to go snooping in her room, while she was at school, only to discover that she had a lock on it. That prevented me from getting into the room, but I decided to experiment. I purposely didn’t make any groceries, or offer her one penny for allowance, but she managed, and he did too. In the trash can there would be evidence of them eating dinner together nightly. And his car would miraculously come and go in the parking lot, without me ever seeing his face, while a few messy bitches would point out how they saw him leaving in the morning to take Mya to school.

  Even with all that, I held on, hopping that whatever was happening would cease on its own, because I saw true potential in Omari. However, right when I was beginning to believe that maybe I’d been tripping all along, and Mya had her own little thing going, that bitch Skyy sends me a picture of Omari, and the bitch I’d given life to kissing in the mall. For the world to see. And yet, I still headed home to confront him, and let him know that he was going to end whatever he had going on with Mya. Then we were going to work shit out, while Mya’s dirty ass was far away from the both of us.

  Needless to say, nothing had gone as planned, and I got to see exactly why he couldn’t bring himself to fuck me, anymore. He’d been giving everything that I’d been begging and pleading for to my bitch of a child. And now she thought that she was gonna ride off in the sunset with my man. It would never happen. I won’t allow it. So, as I stood in the rain, feeling utterly lost, I knew that I had a score to settle.

  Undoubtedly, vengeance would be mine, and Mya should’ve been praying to god. Because he forgives. I don’t.

  Chapter 23

  Omari

  It was quiet in the car, as we pulled away from the apartments. Clearly, our minds were both racing, and processing everything that had just taken place. However, I tried to focus, as the rain poured down, making it nearly impossible to see.

  “Where did all this rain come from?” I mumbled.

  Mya bit a finger nail. “God is probably crying.”

  “You tripping,” I sighed, not wanting her to go on a deep guilt trip. “Damn, these fucking streets are already flooding. The fuck is going on?”

  Mya shook her head.

  Feeling like the visibility was too fucked up to continue, I pulled into a Chevron. “I’ma wait this shit out,” I announced, pulling up to a pump.

  She took a deep breath. “Whatever.”

  I glanced her way, before turning to look out the window. The rain didn’t seem to be letting up, and I was never one to ride in severe weather. I wasn’t trying fuck up my car or accidentally drive into highwaters.

  “This shit is crazy,” I mumbled to myself, picturing Meeka walking in on us. “It’s like shit you see in the movies. I never imagined getting jammed up like that.”

  “It’s beyond crazy. And she still didn’t give a fuck about me,” she sniffled. “Just worried about you.” She turned to look at me. “After everything you did.”

  I threw my hands up. “Don’t shoot me. I aint got nothing to do with that.”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “So, you say.”

  Waving her off, I dug into my console, locating my bag of weed, and cigars. Using a sales paper, and a pocket knife, I began to break down the cigar to roll up a blunt. “My muthafuckin nerves bad,” I proclaimed, licking the blunt, sealing the weed inside.

  “Oh my God, what am I gonna do?” Mya whimpered, dropping her head into her palms.

  “Girl, chill out,” I insisted, with my blunt dangling from my lips, as I lit it with a lighter.

  She jerked her head up. “That’s easy for you to say. You can move on like this shit never happened. I’m the one who will be out here in the cold…and rain. What family member is gonna want Mya the man stealing hoe in their house?”

  “Fuck your family…if that’s how they feel. Aint nobody in no position to judge you, and who said that you have to live with them?”

  “What, am I supposed to count on you? Omari, you got all that money, and never attempted to step out on your own.”

  I turned to look at her, bucking my eyes. “And I wonder why?”

  She frowned. “So, that’s my fault?”

  I shook my head. “I wouldn’t quite word it like that, but you were the main reason, Mya. You know that.”

  “But what does that mean?”

  “It means that I’m well aware that I can afford to live on my own. Comfortably. But I didn’t want that with nobody else, and since you couldn’t come; I was wherever you was at.”

  “Minus the times you went to lay up with Skyy,” she pointed out. “In fact, you been spending plenty of time with her, lately. But wanna come and run my friend off.”

  I shook my head. “First off, I was only kicking it with Skyy, because you was avoiding me. You know I was chasing the hell out of your ass for a whole damn week. Then I got mad that you refused to talk to me. So, I started going over her house more often, thinking that it would get your attention. On the real, you had wounded a nigga’s pride, and I was trying to get back. But that shit is stupid, after thinking about it. You just had my head all fucked up.”

  “But you don’t think that you hurt me with your actions?”

  I nodded again. “And for that…I apologize. I recognized how that might have made you feel tonight. Because I was seriously thinking about killing you, when I seen you with that bitch ass nigga.”

  Just then her cell rang, and she glanced down at it, before silencing it.

  “Is that him?”

  She shrugged me off.

  “You don’t hear me talking to you? I asked if that was him?” I gritted.

  “Yeah, why?” she blurted.

  “Answer it, and tell him to quit calling you.”

  She screwed her face up. “Just because you apologized to me I gotta tell him to quit calling? Where they do that at? What is your apology supposed to change?”

  I was about to cuss her ass out, but I caught myself. “Look, man,” I said instead. “I apologized, because I want you to know that I realized that what I was doing to you wasn’t cool. I shouldn’t have played with your feelings, and I’m not trying to do that again.”

  She stared straight ahead, as I attempted to pass her the blunt. She shoved my hand away, so I brought it back to my lips, taking a puff. “So, what are you tr
ying to do?”

  I shrugged, as I gazed out at the rain. “I’m trying to get this money, chase my dreams…and be there for you.”

  “Be here for me?”

  “Yeah,” I blew out smoke, before glancing her way. “Why you keep repeating everything I say?”

  “Because,” she gulped. “I’m trying to search for the meaning of your words.”

  “But there aint a hidden meaning. It’s plain and simple, Mya. The shit that happened today was fucked up. I admit that. Still, it aint no coincidence that no relationship I have with you or them will be the same after today. Which tells me that this shit happened for a reason. Everything needed to come to light, so that we can walk in our truth. And our truth is that no matter how dirty we might look, we wanna be together. Fuck, the damage is done, so aint no use in playing with it no more.”

  For a few seconds, the car went silent. Before she began.

  “I don’t want you to say that because you feel guilty about helping me get in this situation, Omari.”

  “Guilt aint gon make me do nothing,” I contended, handing her the blunt.

  “No, I’m good,” she waved me off.

  This time I grimaced. This was so unlike Mya to pass up on a smoking session. “I know you feeling all fucked up, and this will make you feel better. Come on, hit it.”

  She frowned. “I told you. I’m good.”

  “Damn, you’on smoke no more?”

  She huffed loudly. “Omari, I can’t.”

  I scrunched my face up. “Why not?”

  “Cause,” she stressed.

  “Cause what?” I snapped, growing impatient.

  “Cause,” she tucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “I’m pregnant.”

  Mya

  I held my breath, as I watched his reaction.

  “You what?”

  “I’m pregnant,” I reiterated.

  He scratched his head. “I mean, how you know?”

  I rolled my eyes. “For one: I took a pregnancy test. And two: I went to the doctor.”

  He screwed his face up. “You went to the doctor when?”