Even When It's Wrong

by Nicole Jackson

  “But did I tell you that I wanted to fuck?” I questioned.

  “No, and I’m wrong for that. I know that I probably ruined you and Mya’s relationship.”

  “Yeah,” I breathed.

  “I don’t know how I can make that up to you, but shit, since you single I’ma just go ahead and shoot my shot. Even though, I got interrupted, you was able to feel what this mouth do, so you know I’ma fool with it. Gone head and come through, and let me show you what this pussy game about. Cause I’m the type of bitch that won’t let the next hoe knock me off my game. I’ll fuck you right, and leave that arguing bullshit at the door.”

  “Yeah,” I chuckled into the phone. “I hear you, man, but honestly I just got Jayde to get you to call me so that I could get that ass on recorder. Now, I can let my gal listen to you, and she’ll know to stay away from nothing ass bitches like you. So, don’t call my phone no more with yo thirsty ass.” I ended the call.

  “Wow,” Mya’s jaw dropped. “That bitch is unreal.”

  “I told you. I told you!” Cavalli boasted. “I knew that bitch wasn’t trustworthy.”

  “Oh my God.” Mya clutched her mouth. “And I really left our house, thinking that shit was true.”

  “Exactly,” my nostrils flared.

  Reaching over the baby, Mya gripped my head, pulling me in. “I’m so, so, so, so, sorry,” she apologized, as she rained kisses all over my face. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed.

  I hungrily kissed her back. “You better be.” I pulled back. “And that’s why you gotta promise me that no matter what from this day forth that you’ll never let a bitch come along and shake us. Recognize that I love the fuck outta you, and I would never fuck somebody that close to you. I know that we started off in a fucked-up way, which is probably why you think that I’m capable of a lot of bullshit. But on my son, what happened while I was dealing with Meeka would never happen with us. I had nothing invested into her, so there was no loyalty. This…what we have is different. You and my son are my family. All I got. And I would never recklessly throw that away. Yall mean too much to me.”

  She nodded, as a tear slipped from her eye. “You have my word. I promise to believe in you, and trust that even when I aint looking that you’ll hold me down.

  I smiled. “That’s all I ask for.”

  Mya

  “Hell, no. She can’t see my damn baby,” I scoffed, as I stood in the middle of my kitchen.

  Cavalli giggled. “Bitch, you stupid. So, your grandma can’t see Lil Omari?”

  “Nope,” I popped my lips. “What she need to see him for? She wasn’t a grandma to me, so why would she need to interact with my child?”

  She focused on her call. “Mama, she said no. They can’t see him.”

  As she continued a conversation with her mama, I gazed over at Omari, and the baby. He was somehow working the controller to his PlayStation One with one hand, while he held the baby in the other. Omari Junior was sitting in his daddy’s lap, watching the TV, as she sucked on his binky.

  My baby had just made six weeks, and I was so thankful that I’d somehow eluded pregnancy. Me and Omari had only waited for two weeks, and the moment I was done bleeding we were right back fucking. Therefore, on my sixth week check-up I made sure to get some birth control. Hell, I had all the time in the world to have more babies, but it definitely wasn’t going to be right then. I’d missed my graduation ceremony, and everything because I’d just given birth, which told me that if I wanted to do anything else with myself that I had to slow the baby making factory down.

  As I was shaking up a bottle for the baby, my cell vibrated across the counter top. Picking it up, I realized that it was Flame calling from the county jail. I quickly hit ignore, before I could catch any flak from Omari.

  Cavalli ended her call, and looked me up and down. “Who is that calling you?” she whispered. “Your ass been ignoring calls all day.”

  I cut my eyes at Omari, realizing that he was engrossed in the game he was playing. “Girl, that’s Flame calling from jail.”

  She frowned. “But he went damn near two months ago. He aint got no bond money?”

  “His bond is a half million.”

  Her eyes damn near popped out of their sockets. “How?”

  “Because. He’s in there for first-degree murder.”

  “Bitch, I know you lying. Who he supposedly killed?”

  “His baby’s mama’s boyfriend,” I revealed.

  “Oh, my God. Do you think he did it?”

  My eyes wandered around. “I mean, he came home one night acting real strange, and told me that if anybody asks, he was at his mama’s.”

  “So, he murking niggas over pussy?” she pursed her lips. “That’s some weak ass shit.”

  “Yeah, it is. I’m just glad that I didn’t get caught up in that shit. I accept a call here and there, because he has always been a friend to me, but he actually asked me if I was gonna ride the situation out with him.”

  Cavalli giggled. “Do that nigga not realize that he was gonna be axed even if he was free? The fuck is you gonna do with his 25 to life looking ass?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Uh huh, and your ass was over there giving him that pregnant pussy. Be thankful that they locked him up for that, otherwise he’d probably be ready to blow you and Omari’s ass up.”

  “Girl, fuck you,” I tittered.

  “But no, for real. You dodged a bullet, cousin.”

  I nodded in agreement. “Tell me some shit I don’t know.”

  Chapter 34

  Six months later…

  Mya

  “Okay, this is the last shot. Turn to your left, Mya,” the photographer instructed.

  Doing as I was told, I turned to my left, posing for the camera.

  “Please let this be the last one. This boy won’t be still,” Omari griped, as he held Omari Junior.

  I shook my head, because my baby had been difficult throughout the entire photo shoot. We were doing a spread for Rolling Out magazine in the photographer’s studio, and was going for the partially nude feel, therefore Omari and the baby were shirtless, while I wore a simple sports bra. The photographer wanted me to go topless, while he tastefully shot frames that never directly exposed me. However, Omari wasn’t with it, so the sports bra was the compromise.

  “Great. Okay, guys, it’s a wrap. Good job,” the photographer Joel announced.

  “Good,” Omari sighed, before grabbing the nearest seat, and flopping down.

  I sauntered over to them with my hands outstretched. “You need me to get him?”

  Omari shook his head. “I’m cool.”

  I shook my head, and grumbled, “Should’ve known.” He was always holding onto his child, acting like somebody was gonna do something to his little bad ass.

  “Okay, are you guys ready for the interview portion?” Ginger, the author of our feature in the magazine, questioned.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I answered, as I sat next to Omari.

  “Cool,” Ginger, a petite light skinned chick, smiled, as she copped a seat in front of us. “I guess that I’ll start with you, Omari.”

  “Okay.” Omari nodded.

  “With the wild lifestyles that rappers are known for leading, how is it that you seemingly have a wholesome, very public relationship that’s seems to thrive, even with the new spotlight?”

  He licked his lips. “I wouldn’t call my relationship wholesome. We’re too flawed for that.”

  “Okay, if you wouldn’t call your relationship wholesome, then how would you describe it?”

  “I’d describe it as real.”

  “Could you elaborate?”

  “Yeah. I’m with the woman I love. I entered the music industry, because of my love for music. Not to be a gimmick, or some record label’s science project. From the gate, I was adamant about them leaving my relationship alone. I wasn’t going to do interviews, and deny being in a relationship, or downplay my woman. And with social media being as huge as
it is, it wasn’t long before my fans were able to piece things together. They’d found Mya’s pages, and seemed to be intrigued with what we have going on. All the while, we’re just being us, and thankfully the public has been embracing it, which is a blessing.”

  “Great,” Ginger smiled, obviously pleased with his response. “Tell me about your decision to take your family on the road with you, while most rappers, including a few of your close friends, party like rock stars.”

  “Mya and the baby being on the road with me kind of just happened. It wasn’t something that I planned for. Honestly, I was opposed to her being in that atmosphere, but she talked me into bringing them along when we went to New York. Them being there just felt better, and I realized that I was overall happier with them around. So, we mapped out a routine that works for us, but I don’t think that it would necessarily work for the next couple.”

  “Mya has been featured on several of your songs. How do you view her as an artist?”

  He gazed at me. “I think she’s talented as fuck, and if she wanted a full-time career as a singer, I’d be behind her one hundred percent.”

  “That’s an interesting point. Mya, do you see yourself having your own album?” she asked me.

  “Umm, I don’t know. I love music, but I’m not as passionate about it, as Omari is. And I don’t half-ass do things. So, if I ever have an album full of songs within me, then I’ll take it from there.”

  “Okay. How does it feel to be the eye-candy for most of your man’s videos? Does the attention that you receive from men ever become too much for you or Omari?”

  I giggled. “I think that’s a question for Omari.”

  “Well, Omari, how do you deal with all the attention Mya receives from men? Especially via social media?”

  “It’s a double-edged sword,” Omari answered. “On one hand, every man can appreciate a woman who’s easy on the eye, but when you live your life publicly niggas don’t respect boundaries. It’s weird as hell to know that men have your girl on their phones as their screensavers.”

  “Well, the same could be said about you,” I spoke up. “It took me a second to get adjusted to all the female fans you have. And sadly, women are more aggressive, because they believe that they can act vulgarly without repercussions. So, they were just throwing it at you.”

  Ginger tittered. “I really appreciate you guys’ candor. How did you guys meet?”

  Me and Omari looked at each other, before busting out laughing. “Our story is like some shit you only read in books,” he spoke up. “My song Even When It’s Wrong describes us perfectly.”

  “Wait. So, that song is based on actual events?”

  “It is,” I admitted.

  “What parts?” she pried.

  “Wouldn’t you love to know,” I kidded, but I was careful not to expose too much.

  “Yeah,” Omari licked his lips. “Me and My aint no righteous people. We have a past, and got together under some not so admirable circumstances. We hurt a few people in the process of getting together. And sometimes I question if we’re two fucked up people, because if I could go back and do it differently, I wouldn’t. Everything in life happens for a reason, and I know that me and Mya were meant to be together. Even if it’s wrong as fuck.”

  Meeka

  “We hurt a few people in the process of getting together. And sometimes I question if we’re two fucked up people, because if I could go back and do it differently, I wouldn’t. Everything in life happens for a reason, and I know that me and Mya were meant to be together. Even if it’s wrong as fuck,” I read aloud.

  Sitting in my car, I had the latest edition of Rolling Out, and I was surprised to see my daughter on the cover, along with Omari, and that baby. There was a whole section in the publication dedicated to them, as they talked about their relationship. I didn’t believe when Glenda’s ass told me that they were on the cover, so I went out and grabbed one for myself. Then lo and behold there they were. It was truly mind blowing to see where their lives were now.

  Their success was like a blatant slap in the face to me. Things for me had drastically gone downhill. I’d recently lost my housing voucher, because some nosy bitch had let them know that I was living in a two-bedroom, although Mya didn’t stay with me no more. Evidently, I didn’t qualify for a two-bedroom without her, so I was evicted. Then after working with the same security company for the last five years, they fired me, claiming that I’d been coming in late too often. Consequently, I had to move back in with my mama, and now had more time on my hands.

  After falling out with several family members on Facebook, I was once steering clear of social media. However, with nothing else to do, I found myself interacting more often now. My little nieces were constantly boasting and bragging about Mya, especially Cavalli, which made it almost impossible to ignore. I found myself reliving things that I’d attempted to bury. I thought about me and Omari, picturing where we’d be, if my daughter had kept her legs closed. I would even go onto YouTube, and watch his videos, while really listening to his lyrics. I’d never realized how talented Omari was, and it was crazy hearing him rap about being in love with my daughter. So, often I’d feel myself slowly dying inside, as I watched video after video of them. I wondered how they could smile, when their union brought others to tears. It had been on my mind heavily lately, and today I’d decided to get myself some answers.

  Easing out of my Jeep, I locked the door. From there I switched through the parking garage, and into the lobby of the building. Spotting the elevators, I made a beeline, knowing exactly what floor I was headed to. My sister had given me their address, encouraging me to stop by, and make amends with my only child.

  Within seconds, I was on the twelfth floor, and strolling down the hallway. Frankly, I was in awe with the building that resembled a office building versus a place to live. It wasn’t a place that I’d ever dreamed of living in, because I’d never dreamed this big. It nearly felt unreal to even claim that I knew anyone in the building, less along my daughter.

  When I approached their door, I took a deep breath before knocking. Even after I could distinctively hear someone’s presence on other side of the door, no one opened up. So, I knocked again. This time the door slowly cracked open.

  “Uh huh?” Mya uttered, not bothering to completely pull the door back, as if I was a total stranger.

  “Hey, can I talk to you?” I asked her.

  “Uh…yeah, what’s up?”

  I frowned. “I can’t come in?”

  She sighed heavily, before pushing her door open, allowing me to step inside. Peering around, I scoped out the spacious apartment, realizing that she was living in the lap of luxury. My eyes landed on Mya. She wore Pink leggings and a tee, while her long hair draped down her back. With her tight clothing, her huge ass was on display, and it was evident that she had a super small waist. Surprisingly, she seemed a tad smaller than she’d been when she’d last stayed with me. So, despite having a rather new baby, her body was in good condition. I could admit that. Being thick was apparently in, and Mya clearly had all the assets that were praised on social media. Admittedly, I’d always known that she had a nice shape, but it had been nothing but a curse for me.

  “How have you been?” I questioned, as she picked up that baby off the couch.

  “Fine,” she answered.

  I stood there eyeing that baby. He looked so much like Omari that it was scary. The baby even looked at me like Omari used to, as he clung to his mama, while sucking on his pacifier. I could only imagine how Omari doted on his first baby, and spoiled him rotten. I could still vividly recall telling Omari that I wanted to have his baby. He would always claim that he was nowhere near ready to have a child, and then encourage me to focus on Mya. So, it was ironic that she ended up being the one to give him his first child, and it left me feeling robbed.

  I was supposed to give that to him.

  “He’s a junior, right?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded, before switching o
ver to their high-tech looking kitchen. “Are you thirsty?” she opened the double-door stainless steel refrigerator. “We have water, juice, soda, and wine.”

  “Shit, I’ll take some wine,” I decided. “But I see you dressed like you’re headed somewhere. I didn’t interrupt, did I?”

  “Not really. I was just taking that baby for our daily walk in the park.”

  “I guess. Must be nice, spending your days doing shit like that.”

  Again, she simply nodded before pouring me a chilled glass of pink Moscato. After taking a few sips, I was relaxed. “So,” I began. “I saw yall on the cover of Rollin Out.”

  She smirked. “Yeah, we did that about a month ago.”

  “I’ll say.” I took another sip of my drink. “Omari’s career must really be taking off.”

  “Yeah, he’s doing good.”

  “I can tell. Yall were able to move here.” I glanced around. “That record deal he signed must’ve changed everything, because I know that there was no way that Omari could afford this on his own.”

  She arrogantly looked me up and down. “Actually, we moved here before he got the deal.”

  “Is that right? Exactly how long have yall be staying here?”

  She tucked her lips into her mouth. “A month after we left your house.”

  “Wait, wait, you mean to tell me that Omari was having that type of money while yall were at my house?” I asked in disbelief.

  She shrugged. “I guess so.”

  I guzzled the rest of my drink down. “That shit is crazy. He was really stashing on my ass. I wonder where the fuck I’d be if you hadn’t interfered in my relationship,” I growled.

  She frowned. “What? You still on that?”

  “Hell, yeah,” I snapped. “And somebody called down to housing, and told them that you didn’t live with me no more, which caused me to get kicked off it. You know anything about that?”

  “Why would I know anything about that? I don’t care about your housing,” she claimed.

  “But somebody told them, and now I aint got nowhere to fucking stay.”