Imani Gibson
This nigga thought it was cool to pop up at my crib like he fucking owns me. Honestly, I was sick and tired of all the bullshit he was dishing out. Yes, I took the money he gave me at first, but deep down, that shit didn’t mean anything at all. He couldn’t continue to give me money to keep my mouth shut and hide my son from his bitch; he must not know me. There was no way me and my child were going to roll over and stay quiet. If he knew what I knew, he’d hurry up and get rid of that ho before shit hit the fan. Lord knows I was tired of my baby asking for his daddy and me having to lie to him, telling him his daddy was away working. Having to lie to my little man hurt my heart. Trust me, it was about to get real.
My phone started ringing; it was Hassan’s sister.
“Hey bitch.”
“Hey yourself. You heard what happened?” I sat on the edge of the bed, because I knew she had some drama to share.
“Nah, what you talking about that?”
“That bitch put my brother out of the house. I overheard him and Mama talking earlier.”
“I guess there’s trouble in paradise after all.”
“Girl, I can’t stand that ho. I can’t wait till the day when my brother leaves her alone.”
“You know your brother ain’t going nowhere ’cause that bitch got money.”
“That shit don’t mean nothing. He got his degree now, so it’s easier now for him to leave that trifling-ass heffer alone.”
I remained quiet. I was digesting everything I was hearing. It all made sense now. “Anyway, how’s my nephew? I bought him some clothes. Target had a sale so I grabbed him a few outfits. I’ma come through tomorrow.”
“Good. He’s asleep. But I’ll be here tomorrow. All you and your mama do is spoil him, always buying him things.”
“Somebody has to do it. As far as me and my mom is concerned, he’s the only sure one. That bitch’s daughter is suspect. Mama keep telling him to get a damn blood test, but his hardheaded ass still ain’t listen. One of these damn days, I’m going to get the little girl and buy one of those DNA tests at CVS and swab her behind. My brother’s not going to like it when I expose the truth, but oh well. He’ll thank me in the long run.”
Yeah, well, he’ll be aiight,” I said.
“Anyway bitch, I gotta run. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Aiight boo. See you then.”
I didn’t mean to be short with my bitch, but my mind was occupied with the information she’d just dished out.
* * *
The next day, his sister came through as promised. She brought my son the stuff she bought for him. He loved whenever his auntie visited. In fact, no matter how badly has Hassan treated me, his family has always treated me well, especially his mom and sister. His mother always told me how much her son loves me and she wished I were his wife. I think she has no idea that her son is a two-timing ass nigga that didn’t know what he wanted.
“Was that my brother pulling out, when I was pulling in?”
“Damn bitch, you ’ont miss a beat. Yeah, that was him.”
“And that’s why your ass acting all happy and shit. I hope you ain’t fucking him.”
“Damn bitch, if I was, it’s my pussy and that’s my baby daddy, remember?” I said, annoyed.
“Damn, pump your brakes, boo. I know it’s your pussy. All I’m saying is, as long as you keep opening your legs to him, he going to continue using you and go home to his wife. Is this how you want to live your life?”
“You know what, Charmaine? Not everybody has a man like yours. Some of us bitches are not that lucky. Me and Hassan have been messing around for four years. Then this bitch came along. So why does it seem like he’s her man and I’m in the wrong? No, Hassan has always been my man and my son’s father. I put up with his shit, so I deserve to have him.”
“But listen to me. I love you like a sister and I would do anything for you, but like you said, y’all been messing around. He knows he can fuck any and everything that has a pussy, and you’ll still be around waiting. You deserve better. I love my brother too, but he’s a player.”
“I hear you.”
“Well, I gotta run. I’ll call you.” She kissed Josiah and left.
I slammed the door and took a deep breath. I loved her so damn much, but she always felt the need to preach to me. Fuck, I didn’t want to hear that shit and I refused to sit back and let this bitch play wifey.
* * *
The next couple of days were crazy. I got up every morning, cooked Hassan and my son a big breakfast, then at night I would suck his dick like my life depended on it, and I would ride that dick with everything in me. Not once did I mention his bitch or even fuss at him. My son was also happy to have his daddy here with him; if nothing else, I was glad that my son was happy. After about two weeks of us playing house, I noticed Hassan seemed distant. I knew he said he was trying to find a job at different law firms, so I figured that was stressing him out. But his attitude got worse each day that went by. Things took a turn for the worse when I tried to rub on him one night.
“Nah B, not tonight. I’m beat.”
“Really?” I blurted out.
I rolled to one side of the bed and stayed there. I didn’t know what brought on his attitude, but I knew it had something to do with that bitch.
The next morning, I got up and cooked breakfast as usual, then I sat down at the table with my baby. I heard Hassan moving around. I looked up as he walked in the dining room.
“Hey babe,” I greeted him.
“Listen, we need to talk,” he said sternly.
“Yeah, wassup?” I asked.
“I came here ’cause Destiny and I had a fight and she put me out. Truth is, I need her to help me start this firm. I can’t just walk away from all that.”
“So what the fuck are you saying? Just fucking spit it out, yo,” I yelled.
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. You can’t shut up long enough. This is it right here. I know you love a nigga and trust I love yo’ ass too, but I need you to be a little more patient. I promise that I’ll leave her ass as soon as I get this business on the ground.”
“How many times you going to preach these lies? I’ve been waiting on you for all these fucking years and you went off to marry some random bitch. Boy, I’m so over you and your bullshit,” I yelled.
“Man I know I done dragged you through the mud, but don’t no other bitch have my heart. I fucking love you Mani. All I’m asking is for you to chill out a little longer. We on our way to the top, baby. The top, you hear me? Me, you, and my son.”
He got up, walked over to me, and kissed me passionately.
“Stop. Josiah’s right there,” I mumbled.
“Li’l man, sit and eat. I need to talk wit’ yo’ mama real quick.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the room. Like a savage animal, he ripped my T-shirt and boy shorts off. He picked me up in the air and dug into my pussy. He sucked my clit so damn good, it sent me into a euphoric state.
“Woiee,” I screamed out in ecstasy. The harder he sucked on my clit, the louder I screamed.
I had no idea what had gotten into him, but whatever his motivation was, I loved it. After I climaxed and he licked up every drop of juice, he put me on the bed and slowly fucked me. I swear, I fell in love with him all over again. He fucked my mind and my soul.
“Mama, you okay?” I heard Josiah holler.
“Yes baby. Go sit down and watch cartoons.”
Hassan didn’t ease up any; he continued to serenade my body. Moments later, we both came together. It was beautiful and he held me tightly afterwards.
“Listen B, I got to go back to the house for a little while longer, so I can get things together.”
“Aiight, but don’t take too long. I want you here with us, not over there with that bitch. She don’t know how to love you like I do,” I assured him.
“I know baby, daddy got you.”
He got up, put on his boxers and walk
ed out the room. I lay on the bed thinking, I hope he was for real this time, because a bitch is tired of playing these people’s side bitch games.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Destiny Clarke
Days went by without hearing a word from Hassan. I understood that I put his ass out, but his child was still here. I refused to call him; I hadn’t done anything wrong and there was no way I was going to pretend that I had.
Two weeks passed and still no word and I couldn’t take it anymore because my child kept asking for her daddy. I tried his number and it kept going to voicemail. Reluctantly, I dialed his mama’s number, and after a few rings, she picked up.
“Hello,” she yelled into the phone.
The nerve of this woman, I thought.
“This Destiny. I’m looking for your son. I was wondering if you’ve seen him?”
“I know who you is and no. You’re married to him, so you should know where he’s at,” she spat.
“Listen lady, I ain’t call you for all this.”
“No, you listen to me you little tramp. You called my phone looking for my son. I see you not the main one, ’cause if you was, you’d know where your husband is. I don’t know, he might be wrapped up with his latest fling,” she chuckled.
“You know what, fuck you, you ignorant-ass heffer.” I clicked the phone off.
I took a few deep breaths. I was fuming. This bitch was nothing short of a fucking parasite. I didn’t even like fighting, but I swear, I could wrap my hands around that big bitch’s neck. I got up and went to the kitchen, poured me a glass of pink Moscato, gulped it down and followed up with another glass.
* * *
I was hurting inside and didn’t want to be around anyone so I took a few days off work. Amaiya was at school and I decided to do some cleaning up to get my mind off things. I was in the kitchen cleaning when I heard the front door open. I hurriedly walked toward the door and saw it was my so-called husband. I tried to turn away as soon as I saw him.
“Destiny, we need to talk,” he yelled.
“Talk. . . talk about what? I hope you’re here to get your clothes.”
“Get my clothes? Are you saying you’re done? ’cause I ain’t going nowhere.”
“Hassan, you left for three weeks, and not once did you call or stop by to check on your child. But, here you are, talking about you ain’t going nowhere. In my book, you already left.”
“Nah babe, you was pissed the fuck off and I didn’t want to upset you anymore. All I did was leave until you calmed down a little bit. Woman I love you, why would I want to leave you and my daughter?”
“Really? Oh and yeah, your mama said you was with one of your bitches. You know what, it might be that bitch you been fucking.”
“Come on Destiny, you know damn well my mama don’t like you and will say anything to mess us up. I wasn’t with no other woman. I was over my boy’s crib over in Co–op City.”
“Yeah right! I don’t even know you. You’re so different than the man I married. You violated me in the worst way by bringing that bitch up in my house. Not in a million years would I think that you would do me like that.” I tried my best not to cry, but my heart was broken and the tears flowed out.
“Baby, come here, I apologize wit’ e’erything in me. I know I fucked up, but I can’t leave you alone. Woman, you’re my everything.” He stepped closer to me and tried to touch me.
“Don’t touch me!” I said. I ran up the stairs and slammed the door. I crawled underneath my covers. I was beyond hurt. This man shattered my soul into tiny molecules. I lay there thinking of how to get out of this fucked up relationship.
* * *
I was a strong woman; at least I thought so, before I started messing with Hassan. He kept apologizing and even offered to get counseling. At first, I was holding out, but I’m a woman that believes that anyone can change their ways. I decided to forgive my husband and to give our marriage another try. I loved him and didn’t want to lose him. I also didn’t want Amaiya to live without her daddy.
Mama said I was a damn fool for taking him back, but I wasn’t trying to hear that shit. She had already lived her life and I’ll be damned if I was going to be old and lonely.
Things changed tremendously over the next few months. Whatever that therapist was saying to Hassan was definitely working. He was helping out around the house and spending quality time with his daughter. Breakfast would be ready when I got home from work. To top it off, he would set my bath water and wash me from head to toe. I loved the new Hassan. He was a changed man and I was happy.
We also took a vacation to Negril, Jamaica and enjoyed ourselves. The time that we spent together definitely strengthened our bond. The two weeks came and went, and our vacation was over. It was time to get back to our regular lives. I only hoped the wave would last.
* * *
Soon as we got back to the U.S., Hassan asked me if I was willing to help him with his law firm. I was a little reluctant at first because I still didn’t completely trust him. That was a lot of money to give someone, whether it was my husband or not. I told him to give me a few days to think about it. He surprised me when he didn’t get upset. Instead, he said “okay” and kissed me on the forehead.
Instead of giving Hassan the money, I decided to invest in the business. That way, if something happened, I would be able to recoup my money. I wrote him a check for $40,000, which was money that I had saved up for my retirement. He found an office building. It wasn’t a big one, but it was good for someone starting out. He also found an attorney who was looking for a partner and he brought his clientele. Hassan might not have had the experience, but he learned fast and in no time the clients were pouring in. Word spread that this young, talented attorney could talk his way out of any situation. They hired a paralegal and I volunteered to be the secretary until they were able to hire one. It was hard on me because I worked at the firm in the daytime and the hospital at night. Furthermore, I was spending less time with Amaiya. At times, Mama had to step in and help me out by picking her up from school. Mama didn’t understand the reasoning behind me helping Hassan, but I was a rider for my husband.
I popped in one day while he was in court; I wanted to see what everyone was talking about. I watched as my husband performed—he was a natural and had a gift of gab. I watched as the jurors hung on to every word he spit out.
The workload was getting heavier and we decided it was time for the firm to get a secretary. I put an ad in the newspaper and also promoted it on Facebook. I got to the office earlier than usual so I could straighten up a little because he had an appointment for the secretary position.
“Good morning. I’m here for the interview. My name is Imani Gibson,” this dark-skinned woman in an extra tight skirt said.
“Good morning, I’m Mrs. Clarke. Mr. Clarke is going to conduct the interview. He’s on the telephone, but I’ll let him know you’re here. Please have a seat.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, I could’ve sworn I saw a smirk on her face while I was talking. A bad feeling came over me and I looked at her from head to toe. She was dressed more for the club, instead of an interview for an office job.
I buzzed Hassan to let him know his ten a.m. appointment was here. Within seconds, he emerged from his office. I watched as he walked in; he seemed a little nervous. He greeted the young lady and they walked off into his office.
I sat at my desk. Something didn’t feel right about that girl, but I shook it off. Our life was going great and I wouldn’t dare let my insecurities mess it up.
“Honey, Ms. Gibson got the job. She’s very well-qualified and is a perfect match for the company.”
“Welcome to the team.” I shook her hand and she gripped my hand tightly. I quickly pulled my hand away from her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Imani Gibson
If you want something in life, you have to go after it. I’d been a go-getter from a young age. Mama was a dope fiend, so most days the fridge was empty. I learned to survive
by any means necessary back then. I was tired of struggling though, and Hassan was living the high and mighty life with his ho, while my son and I were struggling off the little chump change he was throwing at us.
This nigga had no idea I knew where he lived. That’s a man for you, dumb as hell. One day, after he left the house, I jumped in my car and followed him. I pulled up by the curb and watched as he opened the door to his brick house. A far cry from the little two-bedroom apartment he had his son and I staying in. I sat outside for a minute and then I pulled off. My mind was racing. This bitch had no idea who she was fucking with. There was no way I was going to sit back and let her enjoy what rightfully belonged to me.
* * *
I headed to his mother’s house; his sister also lived there. Anytime I needed to know what was going on with Hassan, she was always my go-to person. I pulled up, parked, and got out of the car. I rang the doorbell and Ms. Clarke answered the door.
“Hey sugar.” She gave me a hug.
I followed her into the living room and hung my coat up.
“Where’s my grandson?”
“He’s at school. That boy is a handful, I need a break.”
“Yeah, I understand. His daddy was the same way.”
“I can imagine. He still stubborn.”
“Girl, just imagine how it’s goin’ be when Josiah grow up. I’m telling you, you goin’ have to put your feet down early.”
“Yeah, I be popping his ass, so he know not to fool with me.”
“Is Charmaine here? I ain’t see her car out front.”
“She up in her room. Her tail might be on that darn Facebook. Y’all young people ain’t got nun’ else to do these days.”
I went up the stairs and banged on her door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Mani, bitch. I’m coming in.” I opened the door and walked in.
“How long you been here?”
“Just got here few minutes ago.”
“Okay, what’s good though?”
“Nothing, I knew it was your off day, so I decided to stop by.”
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