Woman

Poly In The Dark

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I sped down the stairs in an effort to avoid the voicemail picking up. By the time I reached the phone, it was too late. The voicemail picked up. I immediately hit the asterisk to avoid the voice projecting over the speaker. Jerod was asleep in our bedroom and though he was snoring loud enough that trees were probably being cut down, he was also a light sleeper. I walked into the den and closed the door gently before speaking. It was Mike and he wanted to ask if I was coming to his party at the new speakeasy. I told him I was having cramps and needed to rest. He was aware of how terrible my cramps were. He asked if I needed him to bring me some Alleve. I told him, not to worry but tomorrow we’d catch up. He asked was I sure, I didn’t need him and he would be more than willing to leave his party now and come rub my back. Damn! He gave the best back and booty rubs. No, thank you! He could sense something was off. I rushed off the phone and told him I was drowsy and wanted to go back and laydown. When he realized I was not going to let up, he said, “well…let me not keep you.” In a very snarky tone. I hung up the phone and walked into the kitchen to make some tea.

Jerod was a truck driver and his job would take him all over the country. Oftentimes, he’d be away for upwards of three weeks. I never planned on entertaining Mike but we grew close once I joined my neighborhood Cross Fit gym. He was one of the owners and quickly took a liking to me. He said there was something spectacular and exotic about Jamaican women. I ignored him because I was very happy at home. However, I grew lonely as Jay was away for weeks on end. I needed companionship. I never did anything sexual with Mike, he just liked to be dominated. Jerod was the dominant one in our relationship, so playing with Mike was fun.

I remember the first time I asked Mike if he would be interested in allowing me to dominate him. He, like most men, said you can do anything to me but the booty is off limits. No worries, I promised that I’d honor his request. It was on a Friday night; he came over after his last class at the gym. I told him to come sweaty, he chuckled. He told me, when I ordered him around it made him rock hard. See, he loved being dominated but didn’t know how to ask this of his previous lovers. He walked into the house smelling like Egyptian Musk. I could taste his sweat as it dripped off his biceps and cascaded down his arms. I told him to go upstairs but being a gentleman, he told me to lead the way. I walked in front of him, seductively as a Jezebel seducing her prey. He grabbed onto my waist beads, hoisted me into his arms and carried me into the master bedroom.

He gently placed me on the edge of my bed and began to get undressed. I became mesmerized by his delicious chocolate skin. I told him to lay on the floor and to not say another word. The only word I would allow would be our safe word, “Brooklyn”. I lifted his head off the floor and strapped on my blackout blindfold. He jumped, so I bent down close to his right ear and whispered, “don’t be a bitch! Be a good boy and play nice!” A grin formed on his face, making his dimples more pronounced. I grabbed my rope and told him to take my hand and use my body for support to stand. He obeyed like a good boy. I reassured him; he’d be rewarded for such good behavior. After I finished tying him up, I sat him down onto the pleasure chair. It had many parts, as this was the same chair Jay used on me. I allowed my whip to circle his back, then his legs, all the way to his now pulsating shaft. I found pleasure in seeing it ooze. The first lash was gentle but intensified greatly.

When my hands grew tired and the sweat blinded my vision, I paused to wipe away the wetness from my eyes. I told him he could release himself now and as a willing servant, he obliged. As his juices dripped from the edge of the seat, I began to untie him. Once no longer in submission, he stood, and reached for me. I jumped backwards. Did I give you permission to touch me? I will tell you when you can touch me. Today, you are not permitted. Were you not satisfied? Yes, he replied. Okay then, go rinse off in the shower. He wobbled to the bathroom, as his legs fell asleep from the hour-long session. We went about this for a few months. He knew I was hiding a secret but never asked the question. Why tell him I’m engaged. He was only a toy; my man was who had my heart.

 

I turned on the lights and grabbed the step stool from the pantry closet. When my right foot stepped onto the top step, I felt hands from behind hoist me into midair. His hands were firm and deliberate with their intentions. Jerod placed me on the edge of the counter. With lust filled eyes, he bent down on his knees, moved my silk robe to the right, licked his lips as he surveyed his mission. I tilted my head back, in a trance, almost unable to mask the moans. I belted out a loud cry, and tried to edge away, he locked my inner thighs more firmly. I couldn’t get lose from his grasp even if I wanted. I put my right hand on his silky bald head. He pulsated his tongue so magically, it felt like he wanted to massage my clit into submission. I gushed into his mouth, not clear as to what he was doing to my body. He moaned in perfect harmony; you would have thought he was the one experiencing this orgasmic realm. Before I knew it, he stood up, with his ripeness ready to enter. I felt him flip me over, with my knees now planted on the placemat.

He entered and I lost my breath for a brief moment. I yelled, “Daddy!” He replied, “Yes, Mama!” Be gentle. Please! He told me to shut up and be a good girl! I replied, “Yes, Sir!” Each stroke felt like a new tunnel was being drilled inside of me. It was surreal how large he was. My ovaries hated me days after each session. Before he released, he asked me where I wanted it. May I have a facial, please. He cupped my chin and made me kiss and taste all my juices first. His beard was fully coated, you could see it glistening.  He pulled back from my lips, staring at me as if I was a prized possession. Then he painted my face like a masterpiece.

When he spoke, his words hit me as an unexpected jab. So, you want to tell me why you had to take the call down here instead of in the room? Before you speak, consider your words carefully. Don’t let this nice guy image fool you. Like I told you, I’m a Portsmouth dude, you can feed me your body, and food but never bullshit! You feel me?! As the last word left his lips, the doorbell rang. We locked eyes and the time stood still. Jerod narrowed his body as though he were going to make his way to the door. I put my hands up, blocked his step and hastened in front of him. As I sped towards the door, he grabbed my left arm, still sore from my tattoo the day prior. I screeched and saw white spots from the pain. All I knew was he opened the door and froze.

I made my way to the door and saw Mike standing there with a CVS bag. I stood there unable to speak, almost paralyzed in shock. Mike spoke first, “so this is why you didn’t want me to come over?!” I looked up at Jerod who was still standing there motionless. I feared what would happen next. Mike dropped the bag and stepped towards the top step. At this time, Jerod pushed me behind him and asked Mike to come in. Mike stood there in disbelief. Nah homie!! Who the hell are you? Jerod stood there in a mannequin form. I tried to speak but words seemed foreign.

Mike!!! I think its best you leave!

Mike, had rage in his eyes. Not until you give answers. At this time, I was unaware that Jerod had walked back into the house. All I know is, by the time I turned around, Jerod was running down the steps with his grey sweatpants, Lebron’s, Steelers hoodie and his pistol peeking out of his waist. Before I could close the door, Jerod gently moved me out the way and slammed the door behind him. My legs still wobbly from our session just minutes ago. Being unstable and his push was more forceful than he imagined. I got up from the floor, grabbed the door handle, and flung the door open. I saw Jerod and Mike about to square off. By this time, Ms. Roberts, the nosy neighbor from across the street was outside screaming. I leaped off the top step and fell poorly on my left ankle, which was still healing from surgery two months prior. The pain shot through my body like a bullet and I collapsed to the ground. Not again, Liz, get it together.

I jumped on Mike’s back and began clawing at his eyes. He pushed me off like a tick on a dog. I fell this time onto Jerod’s mustang. The alarm went off as soon as the thud of my body hit his hood. The alarm sound rang out like a smoke alarm to cooked bacon. It must have been 11:30pm by now, or so it seemed. Ms. Roberts ran over to my aid and asked if I was okay. I thanked her as she helped peel me off the hood like a wet leaf. I looked over and saw Jerod mounted on top of Mike and filling his body with blows. It looked like a Mortal Kombat scene; his hands were moving so fast. I swore I heard him say, “Hulk Smash” or maybe I was hearing things.  I tried to pull Jerod off of Mike but as he planted each blow, blood flew in synchronized form. You could smell the blood, it was horrific. The final blow was so hard, his gun fell from his waist. Immediately, Ms. Roberts, screamed; “Duck! He has a Gun!!” I quickly retrieved the gun and made my way towards the steps. By the time I made it to the threshold, I heard the sirens. I ran up the steps, made it to my guest bedroom, squatted to the ground and found my safe. I punched in the code, placed the gun in the safe, locked it and ran back downstairs.

I walked out of the door and saw them restraining Jerod. Mike was apparently unconscious at this time. The paramedics were stabilizing Mike’s neck and asking Ms. Roberts if she knew his name. When she saw me, she pointed and said, ask her. One officer approached me, as the other officer put handcuffs on Jerod. I ignored what the officer said and made my way over to the other officer. Might I ask why you’ve placed handcuffs on my fiancee? Ma’am, your neighbor told me that this man beat up your significant other. Excuse me! Officer Alexander, is it? The man on the stretcher is the man who came to my home uninvited and threatened to shoot me. My fiancée is only doing what he felt would be best for our safety. All he knows is to protect those he loves. The same way he protected this county as a Marine for more than fifteen years. Please…PLEASE take off his handcuffs!

Ma’am, please step over here. Listen, the officer stated, “your neighbor said your fiancée had a gun and it went off and the bullet almost hit her. Now, from surveying the premises, I don’t see any evidence of this. Do you know why she would have reason to make such a bold accusation?” Though we have the right to bear arms in Virginia, they don’t condone reckless usage. I told him that Ms. Roberts has felt threatened by my fiancée as he is a black man who has an intimidating stature. She’s a Caucasian woman who is not fond of black people in particular. His eyes lit up, as if I touched a nerve. Listen, I know how to play the game and I was not going to let my man be subjected to the system. He served his country for more than 15 years; this is not how we repay him. Besides, it was my fault why all this bullshit was happening, I had to fix it. The officer told me to give him a few minutes so he could talk things over with his partner.

I stood there uncertain of the next step. I stared in the direction of Jerod and we locked eyes. He looked at me with such pain and regret. I motioned my lips, “baby, I am so sorry!” He shook his head as if he understood but it wasn’t enough to take away the embarrassment of having our neighbors peering their judgmental eyes at him. He had prided himself on never being arrested, considering how and where he grew up. It was my fault. Tears filled my eyes as they removed the cuffs from his hands. They talked to him for a while and before they got into their car, the officer looked at me then to Jerod. He said, loud enough for Ms. Roberts to hear, “thank you for your service.” Coincidently, tomorrow was Veteran’s Day. Jerod walked pass me, my hand slipped off his arm, as I tried to touch him. I looked at him walk into the house and into the kitchen. I turned around only to see Ms. Roberts closing her front door. I stood in the cold, feeling the brisk wind from the night graze my cheeks. It was then that I realized, all this time, my robe was open and my nipples were hardened by the cold of night. I walked begrudgingly up the steps, unable to fathom what awaited me behind those doors. I locked the front door and as I turned around my lips found his chest. I looked up at his massive 6’4 stature and felt the tears drop onto my forehead.

Before I could say a word, he grabbed my right arm and led me into the living room. I tried to flip the light switch on but his long legs were rushing me into the pitch-black room, at the same time my right knee hit the edge of my wooden coffee table. He sat me across from him on my vintage plush purple accent chair. In an effort to divert his attention, I rubbed my knees aggressively. The whole time trying to avoid making eye contact. It was dark but I could see right into his soul. He got up in such haste, I jumped as if I thought he would hit me. He went to turn on the lamp closest to the love seat. He walked over and sat between my legs. He angled the chair so my face could be within direct light.

We stared into each other’s eyes for a while. He put his head in his hands and began to rock back and forth. I pushed my chair slowly away from him but the legs made a loud screech as it rubbed against the hardwood. He flung his head up now with a devious stare. Are you shitting me? You’re seriously trying to edge away from me. He stood up and began pacing the room. The next thing I knew, the vase with roses he bought me last night was being smashed onto the glass coffee table. The water hit the side of my face, and shards of glass coated my left leg like stabbing needles. He stormed out of the room and walked out of the front door. I heard his engine rev and his tires howl out the driveway. I tip-toed over the glass on the floor and walked as fast as I could to the window. I could only see the tail of his vehicle as it turned onto Jefferson Avenue. I stood at the window until I heard his ringtone playing in the foyer. I made my way to my bag to retrieve my phone. I saw the caller id read, “Beloved”, I answered and heard heavy breathing. He yelled, “I’m not coming home tonight! Matter Fact, “THE WEDDING IS OFF!”. Before I could say a word, he hung up. I called him back to back, eight times in total. The final call I received the message of death, “Message 2391, the Verizon subscriber you are trying to reach is not receiving calls.” I was blocked!

 

Stay tuned for Part II

 

While You Were Away, Part III

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He grabbed my arm tightly, it felt like blood vessels were bursting all at once under my skin.

Let go!!!!

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?!!

“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!!!

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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Let’s not get complicated

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Image

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.

Can a Man Recover from his Woman Cheating on Him?- Part II “The beginning”

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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.

Knowing Your Worth- Part III “New Beginnings”

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I am beginning to think that this was all too much for me to take on. He has refused to take the paternity test, as he believes that I could have been with anyone. The nerve of this man! After he knew he was my everything. I thought I knew Philip, the man whom was my lover, best friend, and now the father to my child. I refuse to be a single parent without the support of the father. Tiffany told me that I should leave it alone and move on. But how can I move on when my heart believes that he still loves me. Am I crazy? Was it all a lie? Did he really only view me as a side chick?

All of my friends told me that I should have abort my child. I honestly could not bring myself to do it, my child is a part of me. I fall asleep every night with my hand on my tummy, placed exactly where I can feel the heart beat. It is so tranquil, it makes me so proud to know that within me is a part of Philip and I growing in unison. Does that make me a fool for going forward with this pregnancy? I beg to differ. We were a unit; it will be well between us. After having two early labor scares, I mustered up the courage to call him again. It was the night of Valentines day, he sent my calls to voicemail twice. I dialed him once more and he picked up, sounding like he had smoke coming out of his ear. “What the hell do you want, you stupid idiot?!” Hello Philip, I understand your anger but we need to talk. I would like to speak with you tomorrow after you get out of the office. I know you frequent Buka on Fulton Street in Brooklyn on Wednesday’s to watch soccer. I must meet with you in person, this is very important. “Sheila, I have no interest in meeting you and even if I entertained that idea, I have plans tomorrow.” I would only require an hour of your time. “What time are you talking about? You know that I am a very busy man! Also, how do you know that I frequent Buka on Wednesdays?” Philip, that part is not important, can you meet me at 6 pm? “Ok.”

I arrived a little early, so I could calm my nerves and park in my usual spot. It’s been months since I’ve seen him. Who am I kidding, I mean, it’s been months since we have talked face to face. I see him each week, though he does not see me. I wait in my car and watch him go in and out of Buka. I don’t see anything wrong with watching him, it is not weird, though Tiffany begs to differ. I have even studied his schedule, to a science. He usually arrives at about 5:30 pm but he waits in his car until 6 pm. Once the parking meter rules are suspended at 6 pm, he heads into the restaurant. His dinner normally consists of, Jollof rice, chicken stew, sweet plantains, and a glass of Red Stripe. He has always loved Red Stripe, ever since we went to Jamaica on our one-year anniversary. I am so thankful for the bartender Pete that likes me, he always gives me the scoop. He is a nice guy but I am not attracted to Pete, I just use him for his information. Besides, what do I look like dating someone and I am a week away from giving birth. In any event, I reward him for his information by allowing him to give me foot rubs. He has a foot fetish, so I allow him to rub my feet on Saturdays as he fills me in on all that is going on with Philip.

Pete told me that Philip and his wife have been going through a lot. He said the wife has gone back to Nigeria and refuses to come back until he cleans up his act. Apparently, Philip has sowed his seeds with another woman by the name of Adeola. Adeola, is the woman that I saw in the car with him, the night I told him I was pregnant. She is one of the Senior Vice Presidents at his firm. In addition, it turns out that she is seven months pregnant. She decided to keep it, as per Pete, because Philip said he intends to leave his wife for her. I heard she looks miserable, and they normally end the night in a screaming match. I am furious that he impregnated another woman but who am I to judge.

Philip walked into the restaurant as if he had his own theme music playing in the background. He is so cocky but it is so sexy to me. He walked up to me and smirked, though I wanted a kiss, I was elated to see him. As soon as he sat down, a whiff of his fragrance hit me like a ton of bricks. Immediately, I inhaled Chanel Bleu and wanted his scent all over me. I gathered my thoughts and said, I want you there next week when I give birth, how do you feel about that? Surprisingly, he obliged and the following week, he was by my side as we welcomed our beautiful daughter Abeo Eva Adeoye on February 22nd. He stayed with me every night, though I knew he was uncomfortable, sleeping in that awkward hospital chair, but he never complained.

Abeo has her father’s eyes and lips. She has a beautiful spirit, she does not cry much and loves smiling. Indeed, she has become my version of heaven on earth. I find that I stare at her as she sleeps, as if I fear this is a dream and I could wake from it. Her father has been with her every single day. The only drawback is crazy behind Adeola. She has come by my home twice already and have keyed my Benz and given me two flat tires. Philip said she has a brother that works at the Police Station that can locate his car, via GPS, at any time. Therefore, she has been tormenting me for the past two weeks.

I decided that this night I was going to give her something to remember. I walked out the front door and asked her why she was on my property? Oh how I wish I never went outside. Let’s just say, I asked Philip to leave that night and decided to raise my child without his help. There was a reason why Philip didn’t want me to go outside. Apparently, Adeola is the sister to his wife, yes, his sister in law and they have been having an affair for the past two years. Wait, there is more, she is HIV Positive. She went on to explain that Philip is the man she contracted the disease from. The reason why she has been coming by is because her medical insurance does not fully cover her HIV meds. Philip is suppose to pay for half and he has not been answering her calls and she has grown desperate. That’s the reason why she turned to her brother (the cop) for assistance. As I stood there, I felt as if someone shot me in the heart. I felt a sense of relief for myself, but a tremendous sense of sadness for this woman who Philip has just ruined her life.

Thankfully, he did not give me the disease, as we ALWAYS used protection. I was so grateful that me and my child dodged a bullet. Here I was, lusting after a married man, who was HIV positive. It makes no sense but honestly, if I had not gone outside that night, I could have potentially become his next victim. It has been two years since I’ve seen or heard from Philip. I heard from Pete that he has lost a substantial amount of weight. Sadly, Adeola passed during child birth and her child died the day immediately following. When Pete told me the story, I could not help but cry. Both were victims to a heartless coward, who cared little about either of their lives. I am thankful that I had the courage to move on and allow myself to love again. I am engaged to a wonderful man who loves me as much as he loves my daughter, whom he has adopted. I learned so much from my relationship with Philip. There comes a time when you have to ask yourself, if you are running after this man, then who is running after you? I grew to know my worth and will not be second best to anyone, ever again.

 

Knowing Your Worth- Part II “A woman scorned”

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“Good Morning Honey! I made your favorite (Exeter) Corned Beef Sauce, Fried boiled plantains, Yam and Omolette”

“Good Morning Sheila! Why are you up so early? Its 6:00 am on a Saturday, are you ok?”

I am doing well my love but I had a hard time sleeping, your phone kept going off. Philip checks his phone that was stashed on the night stand. Sheila watched him scroll through his phone, waiting to see if his facial expressions would change. When he finally looked up he caught her eyes peering at him. When he realized she was expecting a response, he said, “Oh, it was my sistah. She is coming into town from Nigeria in two days with her children; you will finally get to meet her.” Deep down inside, Sheila knew that he could be lying but she ignored her “woman’s” intuition. So, she plated his breakfast she made and brought it to him as he laid in bed sending messages via “BBM.” As the day went on, she asked where his sister would be staying. He informed her that she would be staying at her friend’s home in Harlem. To her it seemed odd; clearly, if he wanted, she could have stayed with them. He convinced her that she had a friend that she went to boarding school with that would be hosting her while she visited. Obviously, he did not want her to stay with them, so she dropped the topic. The next day, Sheila had her yearly gynecology examination scheduled. As the doctor was performing the examination, he noticed something. He stopped in the middle of the exam and said, “I think we should take a pregnancy test.” Sheila agreed and after the test was complete, she was certain the test would reveal exactly what she expected. However, when the doctor told her that she was three months pregnant and that she should start taking prenatal pills, her face grew pale.

Due to her having a very playful relationship with her doctor, she thought it was a joke. She laughed at him and said, “Am I being punked?!” After the initial shock wore off, she headed home to get changed for dinner plans with Philip. On her way home, she called him to confirm that he was going to be on time. Philip obviously had issues with being punctual and tonight was not the night for him to be tardy. When she pulled into the restaurant parking lot, she noticed his car was already there. As she drove pass his car, looking for parking, she noticed that he was in the car with someone. Unaware of whom it might be, she continued in her search for parking. As she reached for her phone to call him, she reminded herself that she should not overreact. He is a friendly person, she reminded herself. He must be talking with an old friend, it must be harmless. He is a good man and he is in love with me. Once she could not find a parking spot, she drove to the parking lot across the street. Sheila decided to wait in the restaurant until the time they agreed to meet (30-minutes later). Before she could finish her second cup of sweet tea, he strolled in with a mischievous grin on his face.

She stood up to embrace him as he approached the table- boy does she love his scent; it’s hypnotic. It was enough to make her knees buckle and her palms sweaty. He knew the affect he had on her and the way she became powerless in his presence. He kissed her forehead gently, before sitting down and before he wet his lips with his drug of choice, a glass of white Hennessey. As he neared his last sip- she paused- then stated, “You are going to be a great father.” His face grew stiff, as if he had been struck by a taser gun. The look he gave her was that of disgust. He mumbled, “What did you say darling?” Sheila began crying and staring at him in despair. He quickly rose to his feet, place two crisp $100 bills on the table and walked out. As she sat at the table, all she could do was rock back and forth in her chair. Immediately, she was alone, left with her fears, tears, and now disappointment. It was more than thirty minutes before she could muster up the courage to leave the restaurant. She paid the bill and headed home. As she pulled into her driveway, she noticed that his car was parked out front.

The front door was left open, and once she stepped into the living room she noticed some of his clothes on the couch. On the counter laid the ring of keys she gave him for the garage, house, and mailbox. She walked pass the kitchen into the bathroom, where she found him gathering his grooming products. Where are you going my love? Philip looked at her and said words she never thought she would hear. “Where do you think I am going Sheila? Do you think we could continue in this manner for much longer? I am a married man; you know this was never meant to get complicated. Besides, my wife and children arrive tomorrow morning from Nigeria.” Sheila blurted out, “What!!! What did you just say?!! Your W-W-W-WIFE?! I thought you said your sistah was coming?!! You dirty, lying, sneaky, pathetic jerk!” Now, now, Sheila! You know I am married and my wife told me ALL about the conversation you two had months back. As she told you, I am not going to leave my family for some woman. Now, I suggest you do what is best and get rid of the child. Sheila picked up the blow dryer from the sink and swung and missed Philip’s head. Then she picked up the garbage pale but this time, she did not miss, as it connect with his head. As she stood there, unaware of what she had just done, crimson ran down his face.

Philip raised his hand and in a split second, he came to his senses. He yelled, “If you did not know it was over before, now you know it is over- You drew blood! Remember this face because this is the last you will EVER see it! If our paths should every cross again, I suggest you call the police. You and your baby are considered dead to me! I will never, and I repeat never, take care of you or your child!” Sheila felt her dinner coming up and she rushed to the bathroom to release the gall in her throat. Apparently she did not realize how long she stayed in the restroom. When she walked back into the living room, the harsh reality hit. Philip was gone and gone for good. The only thing he left was his scent and drops of blood on the countertop.

That night she balled out in emotional agony from her broken heart. The following week, she realized that she had a decision to make. Either have the baby or abort the growing fetus inside her. She opened up to a friend about her ordeal. Her friend told her the truth, which was hard to swallow but it was honest. In other words, her friend said, “That’s what you get for messing around with some other woman’s man!” Ouch! It hurt but that was the intent. Sheila got herself into this mess, and she needed to figure out how to get out of it. Her decision was to keep the baby, although her child may probably never know their father. As sad as that may appear, this is what happens when you put yourself in this type of situation.

Philip never called Sheila again. In fact, he changed all his numbers. He even went as far as to file for an order of protection. He claimed that Sheila had been stalking him and even went as far as bodily threats. He saved some of the text messages she sent him days after the breakup. Her text, “I am going to cut “it” off so your precious wife won’t be able to enjoy it. You will never be able to have pleasure again. I have more than that hit in the head waiting for you- I am going to be your worst nightmare- watch your back!” Well, due to the evidence, Sheila had to appear in court. When he saw her, you would have sworn he saw a ghost. He literally staggered in his tracks, as she walked into the courtroom. To his surprise, she was not charged with harassment. Due to Sheila being an attorney and knowing the judge. She was let go with nothing more than a slap on the wrist.

Even though, she despised him, seeing him again brought on mixed emotions. A part of her wanted to punch him in the face. The other part yearned to be held in his arms. All those emotions were quickly put to rest once she walked outside of the building. As she walked down the stairs, she saw them in the parking lot. There she was, a stunning caramel complexion woman, with a killer physique, standing outside of his Range Rover. The daughter jumped into her father’s arms, while the sons held their mothers hand. They were the picture-perfect family. The family she envied and almost destroyed. This was the first time Sheila felt any form of guilt for her actions. When she and Philip (played house) lived together, it was wonderful but she knew it was temporary. Whenever you are the second woman, you are always on borrowed time.