He grabbed my arm tightly, it felt like blood vessels were bursting all at once under my skin.
He released my arm and as he did, my right hook connected with his jaw. He pushed me up against my car and held me there as I tried to headbutt him. I squirmed around trying to free myself. Finally, able to break free, once I stomped on his pinky toe with my 4” stiletto boots. OUCH!!!!! He screamed, and at the same time, one of his neighbors exited the front door and ran over to my aid.
“Hey guy, get the hell off her!”
Shawn, still in shock from the pain shooting through his body and this now, “Captain Save-A-Hoe” guy that appeared. Before he could say a word, the guy did some Bruce Lee move on his ass. All I saw was Shawn pinned up against the ground, with his left cheek in a urine stained chunk of snow, by my foot, on the sidewalk.
“Miss, get out of here. I got it!”
Within seconds, I heard the sirens, yes, the boys in blue pulled up. Now, let me paint this picture. Woman, clothes looking disheveled, due to man trying to prevent her from punching him again in the face. My appearance would leave anyone to believe that I was the one that was in danger. Then, you have a barely dressed black male; in gray sweatpants, no shirt, and barefoot. To make matters worse, you have a Caucasian male, restraining this black man, and a woman crying uncontrollably. What they don’t realize is that I am not crying because he physically hurt me, no, it’s the emotional pain that has me in this current fragile state. If you were the cops, arriving to this scene, it is quite obvious whom you would assume was the culprit in this matter. As you can see, this has escalated rather quickly.
One cop rushed over to assist the neighbor whom still had Shawn pinned on the ground. The other officer walked up to me to ask how I was doing. I told him that I was okay and was only having an argument with my boyfriend. He looked at me, if I were lying and merely covering up for Shawn, as if he were an abusive douche bag. I reassured him that I was leaving in the heat of an argument and my guy was simply trying to prevent me from leaving without talking. During our disagreement, the guy from the building came on the scene. My boyfriend was trying to prevent my attempt to repeat something I had done to him. I tried to avoid disclosing the fact that I physically assaulted Shawn.
By the time, the officer walked away to go and talk to Shawn, I leaned up against my car for support. My toes were numb, and my thighs felt as if I had hundreds of needles sticking me. Obviously, I was having the early onset of frost bites. Officer Wright, from the 79th Precinct, came back and told me that Shawn was not going to press charges. This son of a bitch! I can’t believe he told them that I sucker-punched him in the face. Well, he deserved it for cheating on me. I should have kicked him in the throat with my boots. Better yet, I wish his neighbor gave him a Karate chop to the throat.
I sat in the car waiting for the police to drive off. I had my head down browsing my Instagram page and watching a video, all while the car heat up. The tap on the window, broke my attention from the video I was watching on ‘Callhimrenny’ page. I looked up and it was Officer Wright.
“Ma’am, we’re going to need you to leave the premises. Your boyfriend said he feels unsafe with you being in front of his home. He is fearful of what you may do once we leave. He’s considering filing a restraining order against you. However, until he decides what he will do, please avoid any contact with him.”
I told the officer that I would comply with the request. I pulled off and drove to the corner store on Lewis and Jefferson Avenue. I bought a dutch and a ‘torch’ lighter. When I walked back to my car, I noticed that the back-left tire was a little low and in need of air. Before I pulled out of my parking space, I turned on the radio and DJ Dahved Levy was playing, “Hills and Valleys” by Buju Banton. The perfect song to get me in the right vibe before I smoke this spliff.
I began singing aloud to the verses and then my phone interrupted the song, over Bluetooth. I looked on my console and saw Satan’s name pop up. I let it ring out because I wanted his dumbass to know I was avoiding his call. I’m sure he thought I was driving back to DC now, with tear-filled eyes. It’s all good. I had already text Blake and told him that I was on my way to his house. He told me that the keys would be left in his mailbox, so I could let myself in. I was halfway home jamming out to some culture music. I was high as a kite. I made it from Brooklyn to Maryland in two hours, with only an hour more to spare. It was almost six thirty when my phone began ringing again. This time, the trifling demon called ten times back to back. I decided to find out what he wanted.
What the hell do you want?!
“Cut the crap Jen! You wanted this to end. You came fishing and you found what you were looking for. I want you to ship my stuff to me. And while you’re at it, send back the engagement ring. You don’t deserve to keep that ring.”
You are as small as your manhood. Only a useless person would say what you just said to me. You know what?!!
I am happy that I lost our baby. I wouldn’t want to bring a child into this world with your dumbass!
“Jennifer Madison Beckford!! Lose my F#$%*! $ number.”
Babe…I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it…
I heard the phone go dead on his end. He hung up. It was at this very moment that I came to the conclusion that there was no coming back from what I had just said. I crossed a line that no woman should cross. What we lived through was no joking matter to make light of. Nor should I have thrown it down his throat in a vindictive way. I’m an a@#hole.
I pulled into the driveway and bawled. It felt as if the life was escaping me, like a balloon losing all its air. I was unaware that I was holding my breath, thankfully my brain reminded me that it needed oxygen. I gasped and swallowed a gulp of air. I cried the same way I did the day we lost our son that was born stillbirth. The same heartache, this time worst!
It was our 8-month check-up with my OB GYN. I always enjoyed our visits, especially when I was further along and could hear the baby’s heartbeat on the fetal doppler. Today was the day I would show Dr. Liz my engagement ring, as she kept teasing Shawn on putting a ring on it. She’s a huge fan of ‘Queen Bey’ and loved bringing up any Beyoncé song at the drop of a dime. She even went as far as singing one of her hit songs on our last visit,
“If you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it.
“Don’t be mad once you see that he want it…” We shared a laugh.
I went ahead and changed into the scrubs prior to her entrance. I laid on the examination table, with Shawn to the right of me holding my hand. Dr. Liz walked in and greeted us with the same usual perky attitude. She would always remind me to eat, as my pregnancy caused me to experience rapid weight loss. My morning sickness was horrendous. I hated the mere sight of food. I had 24-hour nausea. We small talked to pass time, as she reviewed my chart. My blood pressure was normal, weight was the same as the month prior. She put the lubricating gel on my stomach, we talked about the trip she was going on with her husband to Dubai. She put the device on my stomach and started making circular motions. The next thing I knew the conversation came to a halt.
She asked if I felt any kicking or ‘flutters’ today. I told her that the baby wasn’t as active today. Not realizing until that moment that there was a problem. She told her medical assistant, Kem, to run into the other examination room and grab her the prob. I asked if everything was okay. She didn’t want to look at me.
Dr. Bryan, please speak to me!! Is everything okay with my baby?!
At this time, Shawn stood up and walked to the counter. I guess he needed to lean against something because now, I had released his hand. He slowly put his hands to his head, then his mouth. I’m guessing he was battling something internally. My baby was doing his darnedest to hold it together.
“I’m sorry but I’m not hearing a heartbeat. Please wait until Kem returns. I need to confirm with the Probe.”
Dr. Liz…No, No, Nooooo! This can’t be happening.
What do you mean you don’t hear a heartbeat?!!
Kem entered the room, sweat beads had formed on her eyebrows. She looked confused and concerned at the same time. I looked at Shawn, he was off to the corner of the room now, rocking back and forth but still on his feet. He walked back to the counter, directly facing me but his eyes were looking pass me. He clearly was in a trance, somewhere mentally far, far away. The agony in his face, of the unknown; was grueling.
Dr. Liz inserted the probe inside me and asked that we all remain silent as she listened for a heartbeat. I laid there stock-still with tears streaming down my face. When she spoke, a part of my heart shut down. Sometimes, the simplest words carry more weight than you can manage.
“Jennifer and Shawn, I am terribly sorry.”
As she said those words, I realized my plans to bring home our baby boy were over. The nursery that we had spent months decorating, in anticipation for the day we brought home Shawn Anthony, were gone. I don’t think we really recovered from that. We simply have been in autopilot for the past few years. How does one recover from the loss of a child. The day after the visit, they scheduled the procedure for me to deliver my deceased son. I wanted to hold him, and feel him in my arms. I always wanted to be a mother. I wouldn’t let this unfortunate outcome rob me from hugging and holding my baby. When Shawn held him, he finally released that pain in a deafening scream. He sobbed as he held him for more than twenty minutes. The nurse had to convince him to give her our son. The way Shawn looked at me, caused me to feel as if I was partially to blame. Not sure why I felt that way.
Shawn and I began seeing a Bereavement Counselor for a year. We went twice a month as a couple and the other times by ourselves. Within the year, instead of healing and growing closer, we grew a part. We realized there was a major strain on our relationship. Shortly after, my friend Nanna, introduced me to smoking weed. Marijuana became my outlet with coping with my emotional pain. I hated the smell but grew addicted to the way it made me feel. I was obsessed with not wanting to feel anything and weed was successful in allowing me to achieve that.
I walked up the steps and grabbed the keys out the mailbox. I stopped and sent him a quick text, letting him know that I was about to enter the house. I wasn’t sure if he deactivated the security system. When I walked inside, I smelled bacon and eggs. I made a pit stop to the bathroom, all that water had my bladder extended. I dried my hands and walked past the kitchen into the bedroom. He didn’t realize that I was in the house, as he had “Shake Body” by Skales blasting. I glanced him in the kitchen but decided to continue to the bedroom.
I walked into the bathroom, now filled with candles and the smell of Strawberry Butter incense burning, making love to my nostrils. I undressed and retrieved the towel and rag he left on the chaise, at the foot of his bed. I kept the lights off in the bathroom and allowed the natural light to fill the space. I turned on the water to achieve the desired temperature. I then pinned my hair and put on his skull cap to prevent my hair from getting wet. When the water was to my liking, I stepped into the steamy shower. I washed and scrubbed my body as if I were washing away the pain. I spent more than 20 minutes just letting the water flow off every inch of my body. When I felt a freeing sense of calmness, I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower unto the memory foam bath mat. I began drying off but his bathroom is narrow, so I decided to finish drying off in his bedroom space. When I reached for the handle of the door, at the same time, Blake swung open the door. He looked at me, as if I were a precious prize. He stood there with my breakfast on a Sterling Silver tray. I was surprised to see that he had coffee and freshly squeezed orange juice as well. He was as thoughtful as he was sexy.
The best part of this was that he was standing there in his birthday suit. He obviously was happy to see me and his body confirmed that visually. I love getting his attention in that way. I walked past him, holding my towel closed, as it was small and was not easy to keep fastened. I sat on the chaise and began eating. At that time, he got on his knees and put my right foot in his hands. I was unaware of his intentions with my feet at this moment. I figured he would give me a massage. Yes, a massage. I sure as heck needed one after the frost bites my toes experienced. I finished the bacon and eggs, now I tackled the pancakes. OMG…this food is so damn good. Wait a minute! The blood from my stomach went to the lower region of my body. I opened my eyes, unaware that I closed them from the sensual bliss I just experienced. He had my toes in his mouth, in an apparent attempt to feast on them, as I was with his delectable, mouthwatering meal. I quickly put the plate down on the chaise. No longer able to concentrate on eating. I leaned back on the arm of the chaise and allowed my body to respond to this surreal moment. I told him to stand up because he needed to be rewarded for making me feel so good. Now that he was standing directly in front of me, I tied my hair back in a bun and began to… <>
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We Need to Talk…
I walked to my car, afraid to look back to see if he were watching. I couldn’t find my car keys at first so I turned on the flashlight app on my phone, great; found it. I sat in my car and waited for the engine to warm up, as the weather outside was frigid. I watched the cold escape my mouth as little mini clouds filled my car and fogged my windows. I shivered uncontrollably until the lever went past C. I could have taken him up on his offer to spend the night but I wanted to speak to Shawn before I went to bed. I have no desire to catch feelings for Blake. He knows what this is. It is and will remain a booty call.
Relieved that the car was finally warm enough to drive, I turned on the heat at full blast. As I put the gear into drive, I heard tapping on my window. I almost jumped out of my skin, because he scared the crap out of me. I unlocked the door, afraid to wind down the windows and risk letting in too much cold air. He sat down in the passenger seat and remained silent. After a minute, he broke his silence, “are you sure you want to leave without finishing our conversation?” What is wrong with this dude?! We were in bed after our session and he wanted to cuddle and talk about our future. I told him, it would be awkward to do cuddle and do things that are symbolic to what couples do, as we are far from ever being that. I also stated that, it makes no sense to try to put a label on what we were doing because I am not leaving my fiancée. As soon as I brought Shawn into the discussion he shut down. I wasn’t going to negotiate my comfortability with this man. I told him that I really enjoy what we’ve been doing for the past month. However, I would really like to keep [emotions] out of our situation. Before he could respond, I jumped out of bed, threw on my clothes, and walked out. I felt like he wanted me to make a decision and I already made my choice.
He called my behavior childish and rudely insensitive. I chuckled. He stopped talking for a second and lowered the volume of the radio. I guess the volume was too loud or maybe, he didn’t like the Drake song playing over the speakers, “O to 100.” I guess that was making him feel uncomfortable. All I know is, this is not a conversation that is worth having. Nonetheless, I sat there and listened to him bitch and moan. I immediately felt like the dude in this sit-uation-ship. I softened up and interrupted by expressing how much I cared about him. As a matter of fact, I think because I care so much, it is best that we cut back on our frequency. I think, quite possibly, seeing each other three times a week is showing itself to be a bit much. He looked at me, pulled my face to his pillow soft lips and smiled. He kissed my forehead, the way I grew accustomed, and shook his head. As he reached for the handle to open the door, I stopped him.
“Blake. I think you should know something. I’ve been keeping a secret from you but I don’t think it’s fair for you to not know.”
Ok. What’s going on? Is there something troubling you?
“Yes. Shawn and I have decided to get married in two weeks. We are going to use our planned vacation to Jamaica, as a destination wedding. I just purchased the tickets for our parents today. Our two best friends will be the witnesses. I thought you should know that once I am married, we can no longer see each other.”
Are you kidding me?! Why would you marry him, if you and I both know that you are not happy?! If you were happy with dude, you wouldn’t be here with me.
“Yes, there are some things about him that I am disgusted by but the pros outweigh the cons. I am not satisfied with him in the bedroom but that’s mainly because once he turned 40, his man parts have a hard time staying stimulated. He has been taking the pills the doctor prescribed and they have been helping for the most part.”
LOL. So, you rather marry a dude that can’t keep it up?! I don’t need pills to keep it stimulated for you. I’m a year older than him and don’t have this issue. EVER! You are MORE than enough, to keep any REAL man stimulated. Why are you marrying him? Is it the money?
“Blake. Though I have financial stability with Shawn, we were never together for the money. I make my own damn money and don’t need him or any man to hold me down. Heck, I hardly need a man to satisfy me. I have toys that do a better job and cause less stress. So, if you really think, I’m with Shawn for the money, you are bugging!”
So, why the hell are you with me? You pull me into your world, only to dump me so easily. Do you even realize that I broke up with my girlfriend because I’m in love with you. I broke up with a damn good woman, that I was with for two years, to be with your crazy ass! And this is how you repay me?! You’re going to marry a dude that’s cheating on you with his former colleague.
“What did you just say?”
You heard me. Did I stutter?! Your fiancée is banging Emily. You know Emily, don’t you? I believe he mentioned that a year ago, you grew suspicious of their interactions. He said one night while he and Emily were away on business, you were blowing up his phone and he didn’t answer for an hour. When he finally called you back, he gave you some bogus excuse that the two of them were entertaining clients.
Just know that, he wasn’t with clients, he was with Emily. To ensure that you stopped pressing him for information. About two weeks later, he told you that she no longer worked for his firm. Something to the effect that she moved away to Chicago for a new role. Do you want to know why she moved? Hmm…
She moved because his assistant caught them making out in one of the conference rooms. When Shawn was confronted, by another senior executive, he told them whatever it took to save his ass. He threw Emily under the bus and she was laid off. They didn’t tell her why they were letting her go, they made it about performance. The assistant was debrief by Human Resources and warned that if she spread any rumors, she would be fired and sued .
Shawn felt guilt for being responsible for her termination. He decided to take matters into his own hands and reach out to one of our college buddies. He’s a Managing Director at Goldman Sachs and owed Shawn a solid. By the time, he convinced her to move to New York, he fed her the dream that he would eventually leave you and they would be together. Some riding off into sunset fallacy. She bit the bait and moved there. However, New York, isn’t quite Chi-town.
Now, let me get this straight. You paid for an apartment for him to move into, and live with, his side piece. Ha-ha. That’s some funny stuff.
Let me ask you a question, why haven’t you visited him at his place in New York?
When I spoke, it was to let him know that I needed to head home. He let himself out of the car and I watched him as he climbed the stairs and entered his home. He moved into his house a few weeks after the dinner at my place. Once he walked in and closed the door, I jumped on 95 North. I had a few things I needed to find out from Shawn.
I arrived at Shawn’s place about thirty past one. I had my girlfriend meet me at the building so she could let me into the premises. As she no longer had keys to the apartment, I needed to have someone let me in. I wanted to catch Shawn, if he were up to no good. Ringing his bell at one in the morning, was not going to be the wisest. I hugged her and told her that I was good and would call her once I was headed home. I walked up two flights of stairs and once I got to his apartment door, I put my ears to the door to listen. I heard nothing but the music blasting from the apartment three doors down. I forgot I was in New York, the city that never sleeps. I took out my phone and dialed his number. After three rings, he answered and sounded very groggy.
“Hey. What’s up babe?!”
Where are you?
“What do you mean?”
I said, where are you?
“I’m where I’m supposed to be, in my bed.”
Ok. Open the door.
“What?! Are you joking?!”
Nope. Not at all.
I heard footsteps on the other side of the door. I stepped to the side, so he couldn’t see me from the peep hole.
“Why are you playing with me? I am home babe, wish you were here.”
That’s sweet. Funny thing is, I am here. Come back to the door.
On his end, he grew silent.
“Oh okay babe. I am in the bathroom now. Let me take a whiz and I will be right there.”
I hung up and leaned against the wall in the hallway. I counted down how long it took him to come back to the door; five minutes. I heard a door close and then lots of movement but couldn’t decipher what caused his delay. I used this time to unbuckle the straps on my shoes.
When he opened the door, he looked visibly uncomfortable. I took off my pumps by the door and noticed a pair of black shoes, too small to belong to him. I shifted my eyes to the living room, he still had the television on. Nothing out of the ordinary, just Sports Center. I walked to the kitchen and saw two plates, one wine glass, and a scotch glass. I kept quiet because he was a wine drinker, why assume he had company. I walked to the closet door and he grabbed me from behind and pulled me into his arms for a warm embrace.
“Baby. I’ve missed you so much. What do I owe this surprise?”
Why are you trying to stop me from going into the closet door?
“Babe. Please, don’t start. You can go anywhere you like.”
I opened the closet door and found only containers and a few jackets. I closed it and walked over to the couch. I told him to join me so we could talk. It was then, I heard a noise coming from the bedroom. I jumped up and ran to the door. Once I got to the door, I put my hand on the handle and turned the knob. It was locked. I turned around only to find him by the main door.
Shawn. Come and open this door, RIGHT NOW!!!
He began walking towards me with fear in his eyes.
“Babe. I must have accidentally done that. Let me go and get a dinner knife. Maybe I can pry the door open.”
I noticed that he elevated his voice, when he said, “Maybe I can pry the door open.”
I heard wind blowing on the other side of the door. By the time he came back with the dinner knife, I had used force to push open the door. I walked in and saw an opened Magnum wrapper, next to his very messy bed. I noticed that the window was open and it was obvious that whomever was here, had escaped down the fire escape. I smelled the same perfume that was on one of his business jackets a year prior; Jadore. I walked into his walk-in closet and found two women suits, coats, and two shoe boxes. None of these items belonged to me.
“Babe. It isn’t what it appears to be. I let my boy use my apartment earlier. I came in from work and passed out.”
So, you mean to tell me that you jumped right into your bed, knowing that your boy had had sex in it earlier? Then you decide to leave the open condom wrapper on your night stand. Not to mention, you allowed him to let his female friend leave clothing here? Okay, if these items mean nothing, then you won’t mind me throwing them away?
“I snatched the clothing off the hangers and threw them on the ground. I stomped the shoe boxes and threw the shoes at him, in a fit of rage. Within seconds, I collapsed to the floor in emotional pain. I screamed at the top of my lungs and sobbed. I was certain his neighbors would call the police. I didn’t realize that he had his arms around me until I came to my senses. I threw his arms off of me and stormed out, but not before leaving my engagement ring on the kitchen counter.
By the time I reached my car, he was within inches away, still in boxers and barefoot.
<To be continued>
June 20th was a warm day in Brooklyn, when I woke I found myself in a pool of sweat. The room was humid, you almost felt as though you could slice the air like pie. I was rudely awaken from my dream by my obnoxiously loud ringer. I wanted desperately to go back to my dream that involved me marrying Idris Elba. We were about to consummate our union, when the phone disturbed me. Oh well, it was a dream, so nothing to get excited about, thought it felt so real. When I moved my mask from my eyes and grabbed my phone resting on the nightstand, I saw the name and sent the call to voicemail. I know that’s a douche bag move but he wasn’t deserving of an answer.
He called about ten times back to back before I put my phone on silent. I stumbled out of the bed and realized my legs and arms were sore. I don’t recall the woman getting that many swings in but hey, such is life. I walked over to the window in a snail like motion. My head hurt from being hungover and my body ached from fighting. Sadly enough, I had no idea who this woman was, all I knew was she was booed up in a corner with Robert when we walked into Brooklyn Moon. I opened the window and heard the ice cream truck making its way down my block. I was tempted to run down the stairs and get me a cone but was too achy. I felt dehydrated, so I made my way to my kitchen.
When I walked into the kitchen, it was obvious that I brought some of that anger home with me. It looked like I had a fight with my kitchen. The week old bouquet of roses, which was his attempt to get back in my good graces, after I caught him with a woman, two weeks prior, were now on the floor, with the broken vase in a puddle of water. The roses lay on the floor, as dead as our relationship. I looked at my window and beneath the windowsill, laid my once mounted wine rack, and the wine bottles were at the base of the stove, thankfully unbroken. I had way too much Tequila last night. What was I thinking?! Ugh…I should had never let my boy Starrtender convince me to try his new concoction, when I stopped by Milk River. He sure knows how to make a drink. He is so darn heavy handed with his drinks though. Sigh! I surveyed my kitchen and was in shock as to the condition. I began cleaning up but was stopped suddenly by a glass that suddenly pierced my foot. Now I have to deal with a cut under my feet and blood staining my floor.
After I cleaned up the kitchen, I hobbled my now bandage foot into my living room. When I walked into my living room, I saw my home girl Naadira, passed out on my carpet, fully dressed and her “ruby woo” lips, nicely smeared on my cream color carpet. I yelled in the highest octave “Naadira, Get UP!!!” She did not budge. I walked over and nudged her with my feet. “Naadira. Get up babe!” She opened her eyes, like this was the first time she saw the light of day. I was a prick, so I walked over to my drapes and pulled them back, letting in all the BRIGHT sunlight. She sucked her teeth, like a true Trini-woman and cussed me in under her breath, in her Trinidadian jargon.
“Michelle, where’s Paula?” I told her that last I remember, her man escorted her out of the lounge. She told me to check on her to make sure. When I called Paula, she seemed pissed. She began by scolding me about her disappointment in my actions last night. I tried to interrupt and defend myself but she shut me down each time. “Michelle, you are too grown for this kind of behavior. What were you thinking?! We are in our 40’s, you looked like an immature child unable to control herself. Fighting over a man that can’t keep his ding-a-ling in his pants. Stop making excuses for his actions and own the fact that you are taking crumbs from someone unable to give you more.” I was silent and took it all in because everything she said was true. I played myself and made a fool out of myself.
I’ve been with Rob for two years, and caught him cheating four times. The first time was with his second child’s mother. The times after were with women he met at the lounge he owns in BedStuy. I resented him for opening the business. I wanted to partner with him and he told me, that privilege was reserved for his wife. Those words pierced like a knife but I had no fight in me at the time. Although it was my $40,000, he needed in order to get his business up and running. His credit was so crappy so I did like what any good woman would do and gave him the money. I thought I was being a good woman but in actuality, I was foolish for prematurely giving money to someone not willing to give me his last name.
The times I caught Rob fooling around, was not by chance, I had help. One of the security guards that likes me would always send me pics of Rob in action with the caption, “Boys will be boys. When are you going to get with a real man?!” Whenever he sent me these text, I would rush to the lounge but as I got to the door, the other security guard would act like he forgot who I was. I learned that he did that in order to give Rob a heads up that I was there. He would have me wait at the door and go inside and obviously warn my man. By the time I walked in, most of the time, in sneakers, spandex, and a t-shirt, he would have cleaned up his act. I didn’t realize then how crazy I looked walking in there looking crazy, sometimes with my hair pulled back, only thing missing is vaseline on my face.
On May 25th, the disloyal guard wasn’t at the door. My insider was working the door that night and let me in with no issues. I walked in like a hound dog, searching every corner for my cheating behind man. Finally I spotted him, caught in the darkest part of the lounge, kissing on this female I knew from the beauty salon in Clinton Hills. She knew he had a girl but could care less. It turns out that I use to date her baby father, who I wound up cutting off. The vicious cycle is a bit more complex than you’d imagine. I broke up with her baby father to be with Rob, and he broke up with her to be with me. YES, karma is a biatch!!
That night I ran up on them, she saw me coming ahead of time. She got up and positioned herself ready to defend herself. Something within me told me to rush them, so I began running towards them. As I got within arms reach, she swung at me. I ducked, caught her with a right hook to the jaw. Her cheap, .99 cent gold hoop earrings, flew across the room and her head cocked to the right. I went to hit her again but she caught me in the stomach, guess I have to pay better attention in boxing class with my trainer Nay-Shaun. He always tells me that I have a strong jab but I am poor with blocking hits. Well, when I went to kick her, Rob grabbed me by the waist, threw me on his shoulder and hauled me towards the door. I kicked and fought, calling out all kinds of obscene words to her. She stood on the platform of the seated area, smirking at me and blowing kisses. I was so heated but there was nothing I could do as the six security guards held my arms and legs until I was outside of the lounge.
When we got outside, Rob hailed a taxi, gave the driver $30, and told me he’d see me in the morning. When I got in, I sent him a text so he knew I was safe. It was so odd but he was extremely calm. Not once did he look me in the eye, I could feel his embarrassment, shock, and anger. He arrived at 5 am, slammed the door and walked into the room, seemingly ready to argue. What happened next was something he had never done before. He dragged me out of the bed and pulled me into the living room. The living room was facing the back of the building and no one could hear my screams if he did anything to me there. It’s apparent that he was drunk and was not in his right mind. I screamed as loud as I could but no one came to my rescue. For the next ten times, though it felt like an hour; he beat me. I don’t mean the kind of beating that your parents give you. No, this beating was violent, it was laced with venom and his target was me.
After he grew tired of pounding my face and body with hits, he walked into the bathroom. As I laid on the floor, bleeding from my nose and mouth, all I could do was pray that he would not come back to beat on me some more. Moments later, I heard the shower running. I cried, screamed, but no one was there to hear my plea. At this point, my vision was blurry. I could not see through my black eye. Once he was done with his shower, he went in the room and began watching TV. Not once did he come back to check on me. He left me there on the floor, like a piece of garbage. I must have dozed off for three hours because once I awoke the clock, which was now on the floor, said 8am. The phone ringing was what stirred my slumber. I was sore, weak, and therefore; could not move. I listened for the caller-id to indicate who was calling me this early. I heard it blurt out, “Angela Bryan”, my mother was calling. I tried desperately to crawl as quick as possible to my desk. However, before I could answer, I heard Rob answer the phone in the bedroom, “Good morning! Hi Ms. Bryan! Yes, she’s good. No, she’s in the shower. I will have her call you as soon as she gets out. No problem. Have a great day beautiful!”. He hung up the phone, walked in the living room and said, “…”
Stayed tuned to Part II. Please follow this page for immediate updates on posts.
He told me that he wanted to be friends, nothing too serious, just kick it for a bit. I gladly obliged because I told myself that I wasn’t ready to be in anything complicated. We decided to meet up at Red Rooster in Harlem for some drinks. We met up and talked and shortly after decided to head downstairs to Ms. Ginny’s Supper Club. This man is the type of guy that can charm the panties off of you. He oozed sex appeal from his well groomed face, his built body, his tailored suit, and intoxicating fragrance. I was being bewitched by his swag with no protest. I played it cool, not giving him any indication that he had me. Sporadically he would check his phone and excuse himself to take phone calls. In fact, at one point, he left me for more than thirty minutes. If he weren’t so fine, I would have left his rude behind at the restaurant but I overlooked his un-gentleman like behavior. When he returned to the table, he ordered another round of cocktails before we agreed to head back to his loft in Tribeca. The angel on my left shoulder said, “Take your behind home. You know this is going to result in you having regrets in the morning.” On the other hand, the devil on my right shoulder said, “Girl you deserve to get your needs met, look at his lips, they look like they can work magic.”
We jumped in his Benz, parked outside of the restaurant and drove to his sanctuary. When I walked into his place, I took off my shoes and suddenly my body was lifted in mid-air. He hoisted me upon his shoulders and began to inhale my scent, as though he were sniffing a freshly picked rose. My head tilted back in gratification as I waited for his next move. When he carried me into his room, the candles and music took my mind and body to a far away enchantment. I was held captive until he had his way with every inch of my pulsating body. We made music with our bodies until my pelvic bone ached. His lips searched my body, until he discovered the way to make my vocals tremble. I closed my eyes when he went deep into my sea and dived slow and steady. This moment lasted as long as my climax would allow. When it was over, we spooned and dozed off in each others arms.
The morning after
I awoke to a sexy man in his birthday suit with his legs wrapped around me. I snuck out of the bed, as quiet as possible. I decided it wasn’t necessary to awake him and opt for leaving a note on his nightstand. In my mind, I had to leave quickly, last night was too good and I did not want to start catching feelings. Besides, men do it to woman all the time. They are the ones that can have sex and refrain from getting emotionally attached. I felt guilty for leaving that way but shrugged it off immediately. I reminded myself that I didn’t owe him an explanation, this is not meant to be complicated; it’s meant to be casual sex. He called me and was obviously very upset. Thought he did not ask why I left without saying goodbye, I knew he was angry. I ignored his little attitude and offered to take him to dinner the following day.
As the months went on, we became inseparable. The closer we became, the more I saw a future for us. I found myself falling deeply for him and wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. However, after six months of dating, I ended it. I realized that I had not fully healed from my last relationship. It was unfair to string him along and act as though I were ready for this committed relationship. When he was ready, mentally I was not. It was so hard for me to escape the unhealthy thoughts that constantly plagued my mind. The hardest part was letting him go. Frankly speaking, he wasn’t the issue, my broken heart was. I allowed myself to be courted and pursued, even though, I knew I was not ready. I was selfish because although I was not ready for a relationship, I feared another woman having him. I had allowed things to get complicated.
Relationships are not for the faint of heart. To take on the responsibility of someone else heart and emotions is a HUGE responsibility. You have to put in what you want to get out. Before you say you want to be someone’s WOMAN or MAN. You first need to do an assessment of your heart and mind. Personally, when it was time for me to walk away from that relationship, it was the best decision I could have made. It felt great to be brutally honest with myself and stop people pleasing. It is unacceptable to toy with people’s emotions. It took me breaking someone’s heart to learn about my immaturity. Now that I am in a committed relationship, it feels completely different. This time around, I was ready for my man because I gave myself time to heal and work on me. He is now able to get 100% of me, not a fraction. Individuals have to give their hearts time to heal before bringing people into your life. If your wounds from a past relationship are still fresh, don’t get caught up in a relationship.
It would be unfair for your mate to feel as if, they have to constantly be compared to your ex. In fact, if you are still constantly bringing up your ex, maybe, just maybe, you are not completely over them. Never run into a new relationship before you are fully over the previous one. No one deserves to be a REBOUND. Ask yourself this question, how would you feel if you knew someone was using you as a rebound? Would that make you feel secure? Would you feel special? Exactly, you would feel used and hurt. My partner had his share of heartache but he does not crucify me for his former mate transgressions. We are building and forging a healthy and meaningful relationship. The bond that we are creating, nothing and no one can and will come between us; unless we allow them to.
So, when you look at the woman in the picture above, think of strength, endurance, maturity, determination, and contentment. It takes a strong woman to admit her faults and a stronger man to get her to follow his lead.
I turned the handle and walked into the candlelit room. They weren’t aware of my presence. Her back was turned to the door, as she straddled him and moved in rhythmic motion. I walked to the foot of the bed and watched until they changed positions. He noticed me first; he immediately flung her off of him. As she hit the floor, a sadistic joy resonated through me. I found pleasure in seeing her bang her shin on the edge of the bed when she fell. That’s what you get you nasty *#@%@^! Paralyzed in shock, I stood in silence for what felt like hours. The air smelled of pure shame. The initial shock I felt was mind boggling! Do I catch a case or walk away defeated? I wanted to destroy both of them, starting with Vince. But first, let me see how it feels to put my fist through his face. I snapped and threw the cable box with force in the direction of his head. He dodged it and ran into the bathroom and locked the door. Julia sat on the floor with fear in her eyes. She screamed, “Baby!! NOOO! Please don’t do this!” Even in my rage, I could never hurt her. I was raised better than that. I ran out of the room and grabbed my gun from the linen closet. I B-lined for the bathroom, today he was going to learn. I broke down the bathroom door and searched it thoroughly. Vince, agile bastard, had jumped out the window and fled the scene.
I went back into the bedroom, sweat beads rolling down my face, where I found her on the bed in fetal position. Weakness hijacked my body as I fell to my knees, with the gun still in my hand. All of a sudden, it came; tears escaped me, accompanied with sobs. Within minutes, I felt her gentle hands on my face, wiping away my tears and kissing me softly. I felt like a baby in the only arms I found comfort. The gun fell from my grip unto the floor. I don’t recall how long we sat in silence but it was enough for me to think. A particular chain of events kept racing through my mind.Who was I kidding! I brought this to our relationship. I was the one that agreed to join Vince and his wife that night in Philly to a swinger’s party. Had I kept this lifestyle from Julia, then maybe, we would have avoided this catastrophe. I failed myself as a man and as a partner. She said she never done anything like this before and I persuaded her. My woman wasn’t a freak, at least that’s what she led me to believe.
On Cinco de Mayo, we decided to hang out with Vince in Philadelphia, PA. We drove up four hours from the DMV area. He said he had a packed scheduled for our visit. We did some touristy stuff; museum, shopping, and dinner at Ms. Tootsies. When both Julia and I eyes grew heavy, we decided to head back to the Loews hotel. Vince interjected, “Please come with us to a private party nearby”. Julia was in agreement, so we decided to go back to the hotel room to freshen up. We killed some time enjoying our suite and then took a quick nap. After our nap, we felt rejuvenated and took a quick shower together. As I began gently massaging oil on Julia’s back, my phone rang. It was Vince, “What’s up? I wanted to let you know that the less you wear, the more comfortable you will feel. No need to get suited up. Please leave the bow tie at home.”
Vince, what do you mean less is more? What kind of party is this? He laughed and said, “It’s a swingers party that my wife and I like to frequent when we are in town. It is a friendly and mature crowd of married and single couples. Everything is done in a classy, controlled, and confidential manner. Unless you’re afraid you might run into one of your students? LOL!” Mannnn, are you serious? Julia won’t stand for that. “Jay, come on cuz…didn’t you mention you told Julia your fantasy was to see her with another woman?” That’s besides the point; I’ve never been to one of these parties. All I know is what you’ve told me. What if it gets out of control? I’ll be damn if another dude even sneezes near my woman. What do I tell her? I want to go but fear her response. Help me out here, I’m interested! “Tell her that you would like your early birthday gift tonight. Just give her two shots of Hennessy, she’ll loosen right up. Trust me, I do that with my wife and she is normally swinging off the chandeliers by the time we get to the party. LOL! So are you down?” Yea, just give me twenty minutes.
“Is everything alright babe?” Sheila asked. Yes my love, let’s just have a drink before we head out. “Sure, I’m game”. Sheila replied. Let’s toast to a great night and keeping an open mind. That must have slipped past her because she said nothing. We had three rounds of Hennessy. I know I was wrong for trying to get her tipsy but she’ll forgive me. After we were feeling tipsy and mellow, we headed to meet Vince and his wife in the lobby. We walked into the party and Julia just jabbed me in my side. I half expected worst but my baby is open-minded, so she agreed to stay.
The first hour we watched and took it all in. We were the only ones fully dressed. People came up to us and asked if we wanted to “Play”. We found this all odd but didn’t know the swingers language. Then we saw her across the room. She must have been half Vietnamese and Black. She was built like a brick house- thighs and hips for days! Julia noticed her at the same time, we both said “DAYUUM!” I was almost knocked to my knees by her beauty but out of respect to Jules, I controlled my excitement. She spotted us, maybe because we were practically drooling. Seriously, we were obvious.
Hello, my name is Madam Elizabeth. I saw you both from across the room and wanted to come and introduce myself.
My name is Jay and this is my lady Julia. We apologize if we were staring but this is our first time and this is all very new for us.
Oh…newbies! I love newbies because I love to pop your cherries. I have been in the life for many years. This is my club and I personally want to welcome you. Let me show you around, there are different rooms you can visit. I trust you will find each room quite intriguing. Please Julia, take my hand, I promise I won’t bite- unless you want me to.
I was excited, mentally and visibly. We followed her around like kids in a candy store. The only difference was, instead of candy being sold, pleasure was on the menu; we couldn’t believe our eyes. There were showers, prophylactics, leather whips, neck collars, blind-folded people, videos, and things I can’t mention; surreal! We found Vince in one of the rooms with his wife and one of the off-duty officers. Let’s just say, it’s not my business what he and his wife does. By the second hour, Julia and Liz were like bosom buddies. Then it happened, so sudden, I couldn’t prevent it. Liz kissed me on my lips and I kissed her back; with no regret. Julia pulled her off me; it was obvious she felt some kind of jealousy. She stormed out of the club and I chased after her. For the remainder of the trip, she gave me the silent treatment.
When we got back home, she sat me down and addressed what happened. As we were talking, the phone rang. Sheila answered the phone and her face lit up. She hung up the phone and said, “That was Liz, she wanted to make sure we made it back safely.” What do you mean, that was Liz? “Oh, I gave her our number. Besides, she’s coming into town in a few weeks and wondered if we’d host her? I figured you would be ok with that, are you?” I am not sure how to feel, given your response to her kissing me. “NO! You mean, when you kissed each other! Don’t try to put it all on her Jay! You willingly kissed her back and you know it!” You’re right honey. I only wanted to stop the fussing and get back to watching the Heats & NY Knicks game. The sooner we get over with this, the sooner I can go back to the game.
“Jay, I think I am ready to experience this lifestyle but instead of a woman, I would like another man. What do you say?” Hell No!!! Have you lost your DAMN mind woman?! You can’t be serious! You are the BIGGEST hypocrite! She screamed.” Why is it ok for you to have your fantasy and deprive me of mine? If I can’t have my fantasy then you won’t get yours. Are we clear Jay?” Yes, we are clear. I wish we never went. Vince made it all seem so natural. “So you mean to tell me that Vince orchestrated all of this?! How could you allow another man to compromise our relationship?!” She was right; I should have never invited this into our relationship.
Liz came into town two weeks later. Julia said she’d prefer if she made it a girl’s hangout instead. I completely understood and felt relieved that I didn’t have to endure the awkwardness of seeing Liz again. I made plans to hang with my boys Jahson and Ben. We played soccer, had brunch, scotch and cigars at Oleo’s. I found it odd that Julia hadn’t checked in but I left it alone.
I got home after 11, walked into the bedroom and realized she beat me there. I saw flicking lights peeking through the bottom of the door. I turned the knob and walked in to find her soaking in the Jacuzzi. The candles were lining the perimeter of the tub. She quickly removed her eye mask, and smiled as she saw. Warmness fell all over me. “Hey Sexy! How was your day?” It was great beautiful, and yours? “It was great, lots of shopping and kissing? Beg your pardon? “You heard what I said; let me show you the pictures.” She asked me to pass her bag, which was on the floor by the toilet. I raced over to it and when I turned to walk, I saw something unusual.
Inside her bag was her underwear bunched up into a ball. I looked past that and fished out her phone. When I passed her the phone, she scrolled to show me the pictures but I had already lost interest. “What the hell is wrong with you babe?! Isn’t this what you wanted?” I’ll tell you what I wanted, as soon as you tell me why your damn panties are inside your bag? You better start talking and I mean NOW! She stood up and got out of the tub. I watched her dry herself and walk back into the bedroom; where I followed her lead. Are you going to say anything? I will not be ignored Julia! I grabbed her arm and swung her to face me. “Ouch. Get the hell off of me Jay. You play too damn much.” I stepped back and look at her face, it looked suspicious. When she spoke again, she started off with….
Thank you for reading Part II- Stay tuned to the final chapter to this series.
I realize as human beings that we decide who we choose to give our hearts to. It is not easy to open up to others, especially when you are not certain how they will reciprocate. Oftentimes we search for quality people because in this world we live in, more often that we suspect, people don’t always have the best intentions. Though they appear as they are genuine, their true self always gets revealed. Moreover, we are not psychics so we are unable to decipher who will be the real deal. Realistically, we cannot live our lives without giving people a chance to show their true colors. It is inevitable for us to learn to accept people for who they are and then you must adjust accordingly.
Recently there was a shift in my life, a shift I did not foresee happening, nor did I plan for it. The shift felt more like a shove, a punch, a swift kick to the jaw. The pain was instant and the hurt was deeper than a sword being forced deep into your heart. The sword however, cut both ways, and the blood (which was the pain and disappointment) poured through me and spilled into every crevice of my life. Though on the outward it appeared as though I was fine, inwardly I was slowly decaying. At that moment in time, I lost something, someone, very close to me. I thought of ways to get back what I lost because to me, I prefer quality over quantity any day. Not to mention, the minuscule thing that brought about the dissension was not worth me risking the lost of someone that important to me.
However, it was not up to me to decide when the reconciliation should commence. It has to be something both parties wish to engage in. If either party is not willing to have closure, then trust me, it will not be resolved. In my efforts to reconcile, I realized that there was more bad than good. It was confusing to me that I kept this individual in my life for such a lengthy period of time. To add to, acceptance was painful because I had to accept that this person was not truthful about how they felt about me. One thing that I respect is honesty but I have no tolerance for phoniness. If you are for me, then “Hooray”, if you are not, then communicate what is bothering you. No one person is perfect, so it is obvious that you are going to say, do, or even act out in a way that may be deemed inappropriate.
Therefore, I can respect when someone who claims they (love you like a fat kid loves cake) tells you how something you are doing or done is affecting them; at whatever capacity. What I do not appreciate is when that individual chooses to hold things inside and when they (unleash the dragon) attack you by bringing up stuff that happened years prior. No matter how truthful the claim, it is not fair to the person on the receiving end to be confronted with past issues, that were never brought to their attention. Nonetheless, as I sat and listened to the verbal lashing, I wondered, how many times have I been around this person and never, NOT ONCE, did they mention their true feelings.
Inwardly sitting there and listening felt like a brutal attack. I heard things that I did that I forgot that I did and stuff too long ago to remember, so I had no recollection because unbeknownst to me, their had been an underlying issue. Needless to say, when it came time for me to defend myself, it fell on deaf ears. I learned a great deal from that situation and hopefully, someone out there in cyber world can learn from what I endured.
For starters, avoid the following…
1) Don’t wait years to bring up things you don’t particularly like about your friend.
2) Don’t act like everything is cool if in essence, it really is not.
3) Take ownership for your part in the situation and don’t get defensive. Well at least TRY not to be defensive
4) Listen very careful to what they are saying
5) Forgiveness does not mean you will go back to being friends
6) Respect how people handle things, even if you don’t agree with their approach (we are all human beings and we all deserve the same respect)
7) Don’t use social media to air your dirty laundry (you can’t bad mouth someone conducting a matter in a classy way but ratchetness is and will always land you in the Hall of Shame)
8) Being silent does not mean you are weak, it is a true reflection of your strength
9) Learn what it means to choose your friends wisely
Lastly, I shared what I lost and briefly I will share what I found. I found out that I was friends with an enemy for 5 years and did not know it. I found out that you can forgive and not hate. I learned that the best part of being me is having a loving heart. I found out that when I hurt, it hurts those closest to me. They hurt because I am not myself and I become a shell of who I truly am. Today I am wiser and stronger than I was 8 weeks ago. In time I trust that I will fully recover from this lost but today is a good day. My bruise hurt but it is what it is, a bruise, it is meant to hurt in order to connect with the pain. The pain is my friendly reminder to be more careful of who I let into my heart and life. Honestly speaking, I could never really hate someone that I loved in the way I loved that person. In other words, I love this person even to this day but I DISLIKE who they have become. For that reason, I release my anger so that I can heal.