* * *
I really thought everything was going well, but weeks after the wedding, I noticed Hassan was coming home later and later. I first dismissed it, thinking that he was leaving school late. That was until one night when that fool didn’t make it home until after midnight. I called his phone numerous times and it went straight to voicemail. I thought maybe something bad had happened to him, but I soon rejected that idea. I would’ve heard if something happened to him. I couldn’t sleep, so I lay on the living room couch, watching television and patiently waiting for my husband to come home.
It was five minutes after twelve when he pushed the door open. I sat up on the couch, which startled him, because he didn’t expect me to be awake.
“Really, where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling your phone.” I stood up in front of him.
“I was out with a few of my school friends. We drove uptown and were just sitting around kicking it. I didn’t even know it was this late. I’m sorry, Babe.”
“Really Hassan. You’re a fucking married man. You just don’t walk up in the house any ole time of night.”
“Dang Babe, calm down. I know I’m married, but that don’t mean that I have to be locked up in the house all the damn time.”
“You’re full of shit. Whenever there’s smoke, trust me, fire is close behind. I will not be your fool, trust me on that. If you have all this time to hang out, then you can fucking work and help pay some of these damn bills,” I said with venom in my voice.
“That was deep. I want to work. Don’t you dare accuse me of being lazy. It was your idea for me to go to school full-time.”
“Boy, whatever, you’re a fucking joke,” I said before I walked off into the room.
That was our first quarrel and I was fine with it. Deep down, I had a feeling that he was with another woman. The entire time that we’d been together, he had never up and disappeared without answering his phone. I didn’t have any proof, but deep down, my intuition was telling me I was right.
I went days without talking to him. I needed him to know that I was not going to tolerate any kind of disrespect from him, or anyone else, for that matter. He tried to play around with me, but I stopped him dead in his tracks. Once you let a man believe that they can get away with certain things, they will try to the next time around. Hassan didn’t know that I only gave a man one chance to fuck up. After that, he’d be in the doghouse just like the rest of the no-good-ass men.
Things eventually returned to normal. He was doing great in law school and I was on maternity leave, so I had some free time on my hands. I noticed there were times when his phone would constantly ring at night. He would look at it, then look at me, and utter, “That’s my boy. I done told his ass not to call me this late.” I would look at him and smile. That nigga really thought I was a dumb bitch. I wasn’t dumb. I was only buying time until I had my baby. Then he’d find out who he was fucking with. I promised on my unborn seed that Daddy was in for a treat if he didn’t get his act in order.
CHAPTER SIX
Destiny Clarke
I was weeks away from giving birth to my daughter. I was as big as a house, but I was excited that a little “mini-me” was about to be popped out. I hoped that I could give her all the love her little heart desired. I made a vow to protect her by any means necessary and prayed to God daily that none of these pervert-ass niggas would ever come close enough to breathe on her. I wasn’t a killer, but I would damn sure kill to protect mine.
It was a relaxing day for me; I was home alone as usual. Hassan was at school. I didn’t expect him to be home any time soon. I heard my phone ringing and I was going to ignore it, but decided not to. I figured it might be my girlfriend calling. She’d been calling every afternoon to check up on me. I couldn’t help but love her crazy butt. We’d been friends since high school and had remained close. I grabbed my phone, thinking it was her.
It was a 914 number. I didn’t recognize it, but I picked it up anyway.
“Hello.”
“Yes, hi, can I speak to Destiny?”
“Speaking, may I ask who’s calling?
There was a pause and heavy breathing into the phone.
“Hello, are you still there?”
“Yes, I am. See, you don’t know me, but I know of you. I want you to know that we are both fucking the same man.”
It was my turn to pause. I was caught off guard with this piece of shit on my line. All kinds of thoughts rushed through my mind, but I took a breath and regrouped quickly.
“So, you’re saying you are fucking my husband?”
“Husband? He ain’t married. Plus I’m pregnant with his baby.”
“Listen to me you little whore, I don’t know why you called my phone to tell me my husband is fucking you. I’m pretty sure you ain’t the first and won’t be the last. Please get in line with the rest of the whores that’re waiting to take my place. As far as you being pregnant, I don’t give a fuck about you and that illegitimate little monkey. Don’t you call my fucking phone again. You hear me, you low life piece of shit?” I didn’t wait for a response; I hung my phone up.
I had to sit down on the bed. My head had started to spin. I knew that grimy-ass nigga was fucking around on me, despite all that I did for him. I was so fucking angry that tears began to roll down my face. I had flashbacks of when my daddy used to fuck me and how hurt I used to be. I felt the same fucking way. I trusted this bastard with my fucking life and this was how he repaid me. I lay there and cried for a little while, but I soon dried the damn tears and got up. I was too good of a woman to be crying over this broke-ass nigga. I had to figure out my next move.I took a hot shower, made a cup of tea, and got into bed to watch Forensic Files. Its episodes were off the chain. Mama used to watch it, and that was where I got the idea to put the sleeping pills into Daddy’s tea. You could learn so many things just by watching television.
I heard the door when he opened it, but I remained upstairs. Then he entered the kitchen. His ass was hungry, but I’d be damned if I was going to cook for this sorry-ass nigga who had been out slinging his dick everywhere, his sidepiece talking ’bout she’s pregnant. I’d be a damn fool if I continued to let him use me to pay for his schooling, but all that shit was about to be over.
“Hey Babe, I thought you cooked?”
I sat up in the bed so I could address him the correct way.
“Your whore called my phone today,” I said and stared him dead in the eyes.
“Wh. . . Wha. . . What you talking ’bout?”
“You heard what the fuck I said. Your baby mama, aka your whore, called me today to let me know you’ve been fucking both of us.”
“Destiny, cut that shit out. I’ve no idea who called you. I only have one child on the way and it’s with you.”
“You are a lying fucker. You can’t even lie straight. I can’t believe that I picked up your broke ass and brought you in my shit and you have the fucking balls to be out there fucking around on me? You are a sorry excuse for a man. You make my fucking skin crawl,” I shouted at him.
“I feel that you’re upset, but you need to calm down. You’re pregnant and shouldn’t be getting all riled up,” he said and tried to touch my arm.
I took a step back and slapped his hand away.
“Don’t fucking touch me. I’m a fool for believing you. I knew you were out there fucking around all those nights you came in late. Too tired all of a sudden to fuck. No, your ass was too tired from fucking that bitch. Then not only that, your nasty ass didn’t even use a condom.” I looked at him with disgust written all over my face.
“Destiny, chill out wit’ all that. I ain’t fuck nobody, since I been with you. You gotta believe me, I don’t know who called you, but they need to quit playing.”
I couldn’t take any more of his lies, so I walked away, down the stairs. I saw straight through his bullshit. I was mad at myself for picking this lame-ass nigga. I just couldn’t believe that he played me like that. I thought about cutt
ing his cock off just like I did Daddy’s, but that would be too easy. I made me some peppermint tea and lay on my couch. I was not sleeping in the bed with a man that I considered an imposter.
Hassan Clarke
The minute that Destiny said someone called her, I knew who it was. That bitch Imani played too fucking much. I had no idea how she found out that I was married or how the fuck she got Destiny’s phone number. I scanned my brain and soon realized it had to be the other day when I stopped by. That bitch fucked me so good, I literally passed out on the bed. I woke up hours later, just to make it home a little before 12:30 a.m. That was the only time her sneaky ass could’ve gone through my phone.
Even though she caught me off guard, I was still on point. I tried to convince her that I had no idea who she was talking about, but she wasn’t tryna hear that shit. I really didn’t feel like hearing her mouth, but then again, I couldn’t risk her cutting me off. To be honest, I felt like smacking the shit out of her when she came out of her mouth sideways, calling me all those fucking names. This bitch had no idea who the hell she was fucking with.
I stood there as she showed her black ass. It was funny how bitches acted like they were all high and mighty until the minute they got mad. But, I saw that Destiny wasn’t any different from the regular hood bitches. She was an educated hood rat bitch, and that made it even worse.I tried to calm her ass down, but she slapped my hand away. That was it for me because I might’ve snapped and broken that bitch’s neck off her body if she touched me. See, Daddy taught me that if she’s woman enough to touch you, then she’s woman enough to take an ass whooping. Mama never tried him like that, so I understood his logic perfectly.
I was happy when she finally left the room because my blood was boiling and I didn’t want to do anything that I was going to regret. I was heated that Imani pulled some shit like that. That bitch was playing a dangerous game, fucking with my meal ticket like that.
I sat on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands, irritated as fuck.
* * *
After class, I rushed to the Bronx. I might’ve run a few stop signs trying to get to Imani’s apartment on Gun Hill Road. I ran upstairs to apartment 212-A and banged on the door.
“What a surprise! You didn’t tell me you was coming by today.”
I pushed her backward and stepped into the apartment, locking the door behind me.
“Bitch, shut up! Why’d the fuck you go through my phone?” I yelled.
“Boy, whatever! Oh, you ova here going off over some bitch. It must be true then; you’re fucking married! When the fuck were you going to tell me, huh, nigga?”
“It was none of your business. I’m not your fucking man.”
“Nigga, you grimy as fuck. I stayed faithful to your dumb ass. I never fucked another nigga, even when I could. I fuck you and suck you good and this is how you repay me? You went and married the next bitch. I fucking hate yo’ ass, for real.”
“Whatever, yo! I had to do what I had to do. Shit, I tried to tell you to sell your pussy so we could make some money, but you wasn’t tryna hear that. Shit, you knew what I was tryna do, but yet you didn’t try to help me. Yet you all up in my face, because the next bitch stepped up to the plate.”
“You know what? Fuck you. Me and my baby don’t need yo’ ass anyways,” she spat, venom dripping in her voice.
I looked at her thinking, Did I hear this bitch right?
“Bitch, what you mean? You and your baby? Your ass ain’t pregnant and if you were, that shit ain’t mine. You better find that nigga that you was fucking.”
“Boy, please. I’m pregnant. Here go the fucking paper.” She grabbed a piece of paper off the table and handed it to me.
“Fuck you! I wasn’t fucking anybody else. You just mad that I told yo’ fucking wife about our relationship and now you ’bout to be a daddy,” she laughed out loud.
I stood there, lost for words. This can’t be real, I thought. She was playing with me. Maybe she was trying to get some abortion money out of me.
“Man, what the fuck ever. Shit, what you need the money for, the abortion? How much do you need?”
“Get the fuck out of my shit! I don’t need your fucking money; I plan on having my fucking baby. Yeah, I know about your love child, so you think I was about to kill my child while you and your bitch enjoy your fucking bastard? You should know me better than that, Daddy.” She winked at me.
At that moment everything around me turned black and I stepped toward her. I put my hand around her neck, trying to shake the life out of her. I don’t know what made me snap out of it, but when I looked down on her, she was barely breathing. I let her neck go and walked hurriedly out the door. I sped out of the parking lot and headed up White Plains Road. I wasn’t sure if she’d called the police and they were out looking for me.
I was hurt and confused as I drove home. I knew I shouldn’t have done what I did, but that bitch was making a fool out of me. “A fucking baby,” I mumbled. It’s bad enough I already had one child on the way, now here this bitch goes, telling me she was knocked up. I need a fucking drink, bad. I made a detour and headed to Nereid Avenue. I had to talk to somebody and who better than my homeboy, Mari.
Mari had a few baby mamas, and went through drama on the regular. I used to sit back and laugh at him when he would tell me all these different stories. Now, here I was in a fucked up situation. My gut told me that bitch was lying, but common sense told me she might be knocked up. I recalled the day I busted in her—a damn stupid move on my behalf—a move that might cost me everything.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Destiny Clarke
The day that my daughter arrived was the best day of my life. I now had someone to love and protect. I’ll admit, she came out looking just like her daddy, but she had my high cheekbones and my complexion because I was two shades lighter than Hassan was.
He was also excited, or so he seemed. I wasn’t buying any of that. I couldn’t get it out my head that he had another baby on the way. He kept denying that he knew the bitch or that he had an affair. I knew he was lying. There were a lot questions like, how did this slut get my number, if he wasn’t fucking with her? He had all the answers, but he took the coward’s way out. What kind of man denies their child? From that day on, I lost all respect for him.
After my baby was born, things changed between us. I hadn’t forgiven him for cheating on me, nor did I forget that another bitch was carrying his seed. I just kept my cool because my baby deserved to have her daddy in her life. I didn’t know my parents and didn’t want my child to go through the same shit.
I know, maybe my thinking was wrong, but fuck, I didn’t care about being wrong. My child was going to have both her mommy and daddy in her life. Even if it meant that I was going to suck up the ill will that I have for Hassan’s cheating ass and act like we’re the perfect family.
The sad thing was that this bastard thought that I had forgotten that bitch had called. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about him fucking her raw and now he had a little bastard on the way. I hope that bitch knew that my daughter came first at all times. I really didn’t give a damn if that little bastard was hungry or needed diapers. For one, Hassan’s ass was still broke; and two, there’s no way in hell my money was going to feed that little monkey. I’m not harsh. That’s just the way life is set up. I busted my ass to make sure my baby Amaiya had everything that she needed, so that bitch needed to sell her pussy or suck a few more dicks so she could provide for her monkey.
I waited around to see if he was going to confess about the affair, but that lying-ass bastard kept quiet. I checked his phone a few times, but there were no messages beside mine. He was always on time when he got out of school; no matter how I tried to catch him in a lie, he never slipped up. Either he wasn’t cheating or he was a pro at cheating and knew damn well how to cover up his tracks.
* * *
“Baby, you know ever since you came into my life, it’s been so much better
.”
“Really? Which part is better? Is it the part where you get to eat, shit, sleep, and live for free?” I looked at him with a smirk on my face.
“Damn! Destiny, what’s up with this attitude? I mean, I know I haven’t been able to help out, but dammit, I came to you for help when I decided to go back to school and you agreed. Now all you do is throw this shit in my face. I only have a few years left and I’m going to show you the kind of man I know I can be. Just be patient, baby. I promise, I gotchu.”
I almost busted out laughing; his speech and the look on his face were priceless. This weak-ass nigga thought he had me fooled. “Listen up. I was fine helping you go back to school so you could better yourself. I carried your weight and never once did I complain, but the minute that you started sticking your cock into other bitches, that shit ended. I’m not paying no nigga’s way so he has free time to go search for pussy.”
I didn’t wait for a response. I got up off the sofa and walked away. I felt like if I didn’t, I would’ve kicked the shit out of his ass.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Destiny Clarke
My Husband's Mistress Page 3