If It Isn't Love

by Dwayne S. Joseph

  “How’s work?”

  Monica stared at him in disbelief. “You get up and leave me naked in the tub, when we were supposed to be celebrating. You don’t call or come to see me with a real explanation for five days, and you have the nerve to ask me how I’ve been and how work is? Are you for real? How the hell do you think I’ve been, Bryce? Do you really want to know? Or can’t you tell by my red, puffy eyes? Do you really want me to tell you how work has been? You want to know all about my inability to stay focused because I’ve been wondering how a man who claims to love and care for me could do to me what he did for no reason at all, other than work being on his mind? Is work on your mind right now, Bryce? Do you plan on up and leaving again? Because if you do, why don’t you spare my valuable time and leave now.”

  Monica stopped talking to take a breath and calm down. As angry as she was at Bryce, she was angrier with herself for wanting to be in his arms. “Speak goddammit!”

  Bryce leaned forward on his elbows and stared down at his feet. “Baby, I’m sorry,” he said softly.

  “Damn right you’re sorry. That was supposed to be my night!”

  “I know, baby.”

  “No, you don’t know, Bryce. I worked my ass off trying to land that account.”

  “Monica, I know what it meant to you.”

  “Bryce, if you did, you would never have left the way you did! I deserved that night. I earned it. That account could very well be the turning point of my career and I couldn’t even enjoy it.”

  Bryce’s head hung lower with guilt. “Monica, I told you I’m sorry. It’s just that ...” He paused. What if this baby wasn’t his? He looked at Monica, who glared back at him intensely. What if it was?

  “What, Bryce? It’s just that what?”

  Bryce took a deep breath. “Monica, there’s something I need to tell you. I don’t even know how to say this.”

  “You open your mouth and speak.”

  Bryce exhaled. “I cheated on you.”

  Monica heard what he’d said, but couldn’t believe her ears. “Excuse me?”

  “I cheated on you. But I swear it’s over.”

  Monica was speechless. He had to be joking. It had to be some type of sick game he was playing. She looked at Bryce, who did his best to avoid her gaze. She watched him clench and unclench his jaws, crack his knuckles, and rub the back of his neck. All things he did when he was nervous.

  Monica could feel her eyes welling. “Bryce,” she said weakly. “Is this a joke?”

  Bryce didn’t answer. Monica asked again, only there was nothing timid about the way she did. “Is this some kind of fucking joke?” she screamed out. “Answer me!”

  Bryce shook his head no. Monica’s tears began to fall. “Why are you telling me this? Why?” Tears of shame and regret formed in Bryce’s eyes. They fell to the floor as he answered bluntly.

  “She’s pregnant. I found out last week. But I don’t know if it’s mine. Baby, I’m sorry.”

  “Get out,” Monica said in a whisper.

  Bryce looked up at her. “Baby, I was wrong.”

  “Get out!” Monica said with more force this time.

  Bryce tried again. “Monica, she meant nothing to me. I love you, and I want to marry you.”

  At the sound of the words love and marriage, Monica shook her head. “Get the fuck out, Bryce! Get your ass out of my house!”

  “Baby, please! I love you.”

  “Love? You don’t know shit about love, you no-good dog! Get the hell out of here now. Go to your pregnant bitch. Go anywhere. Just get the fuck away from me!”

  Bryce moved to try and take her in his arms. “Please Monica ... she doesn’t mean shit to me.” As he got close to her, Monica hauled off and smacked him hard across his cheek. Bryce was stunned. He backed away.

  “Get out!” Monica raged again. “Get your lyin’ ass out. Because you don’t mean shit to me either.”

  “Baby, you don’t mean that.”

  “Bryce, if you don’t leave right now, I swear you will regret it.”

  “Baby ...”

  “Stop calling me that! I’m not your baby. Your baby is waiting for you in your bitch’s stomach. Leave!”

  Tears cascaded down from her eyes. Her palm stung from the smack she’d delivered and she wanted to do it again. She did. She stood up and smacked his cheek again and then pounded her fists against his chest. Then she slumped to the floor into a ball, as her tears soaked her shirt and fell in droplets to the ground.

  Bryce looked down at the woman he loved and opened his mouth. He wanted to say something, do anything. But what could he say that would take away her tears and her pain? He’d betrayed her trust. He’d done enough already.

  Bryce took one last look at Monica as if it could possibly be the last time he would lay his eyes on her. Then he turned and left.

  When the door closed behind him, Monica slammed her fist on the floor. He’d cheated. She’d loved him and he cheated and gotten someone pregnant. Monica sobbed and couldn’t decide what hurt more, Bryce’s unfaithfulness, or the fact that, as hard as she’d tried to avoid it, she was now in the same position as her mother.

  14

  Karen was glad she still had the spare key to Monica’s place because the minute she walked in and saw Monica sobbing on the floor, Karen knew she wouldn’t have answered her door if she’d rung the bell. Bryce had called her and told her what happened, and asked for her to go and comfort her sister. Only because she wanted to hurry to Monica’s side did she not go off on Bryce. But she did take the time to call him a “pathetic lyin-ass dog.” Bryce didn’t respond, because he knew he deserved that and more. Before leaving, Karen told Alex what happened. Alex feigned surprise and didn’t tell her that he already knew.

  Karen moved to her sister.

  “Monica, baby,” she said, kneeling beside her.

  Monica didn’t answer.

  Karen wrapped her arms around her sister.

  Instantly, Monica buried her head in Karen’s lap.

  “It’s okay, baby,” Karen whispered, gently rubbing her back.

  “You go ahead and let it all out. I’m here.”

  Fifteen minutes passed before Monica finally said a word.

  “How did you know?” she asked.

  “Bryce called and told me.”

  “The nerve of him,” Monica said angrily. “I can’t believe you were right.”

  Karen stroked her hair. “Shh. Don’t say that. It doesn’t matter.”

  Monica lifted her head slowly. “I need aspirin.”

  Karen stood up. “Where is it?”

  “In the bathroom,” Monica said, moving from the floor to the sofa.

  Karen left and came back with the aspirin and a glass of water. She handed two pills to her sister, whose eyes looked like they’d gone twelve rounds with Laila Ali.

  “You’re wrong,” Monica said after downing the medicine. “It does matter. You told me what he was doing, or in his case, had done, and I insisted that he wouldn’t do that to me. I was a fool. All this time I loved and trusted him while he played me for a damn fool.” Tears began to leak from her eyes again. Karen handed her a tissue. “I can’t believe he did this to me. Do you know that he got some bitch pregnant?”

  “He told me that too.”

  “Karen, all this time I thought Bryce was the perfect man, when in reality, he was nothing but a triflin’ dog.”

  Karen sat down and placed her arm around Monica’s shoulder and didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to add any more fuel to Monica’s fire by commenting on the disgust she felt too.

  “Karen, what did I do wrong?”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, baby sister. Bryce is an ass, and that’s all there is to it.”

  Tears fell from Monica’s chin. She hoped the aspirin’s effect would take place soon because her head felt like it was about to explode. “Just like Mama,” she whispered.

  “What about, Mama?” Karen asked.

  “I’m j
ust like her.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean I’m just like her. All this time I’ve put her down because she let the minister disrespect her with his womanizing, and here I am in the same predicament I swore I would never be in.”

  “Come on, girl. You’re nothing like Mama.”

  “Oh aren’t I? Karen, I gave my all to Bryce. I did whatever I could to make him happy, while he played me.”

  “But you never knew, girl.”

  “Maybe I did. Maybe I chose to ignore the signs. Maybe I just looked past excuses he’s made in the past, no matter how weak they may have been, and convinced myself that Bryce couldn’t possibly lie. Maybe I’d always seen it but tried to deny the truth.”

  “Maybe nothing, Monica. You are not to blame for this, and you didn’t know he was fucking another woman behind your back. Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t put yourself in the same category as Mama. She and everyone else knew that the minister was an unfaithful bastard. She allowed herself to be the fool. You didn’t. This is not the same thing.”

  “But what if Bryce and I were married? What would I do?”

  “You would leave his ass, that’s what?” Karen said.

  “Would I? Could I?”

  “What do you mean, would you? Girl, Bryce betrayed your trust.”

  “I know that, but is it really that simple? Could I just walk away from a marriage without trying to make it work? Could you walk away from Alex, to whom you vowed to stay together for better or worse?”

  Karen nodded her head yes. “Monica, I may love Alex unconditionally, but after watching Mama and the minister, my answer is yes. As far as I’m concerned, infidelity is unforgivable, because once that wall of trust is knocked down, it’s impossible to rebuild. And the last thing I will do is stay in a relationship where I feel I have to watch my back because I’m doubting every word he’s saying to me.”

  Monica took a deep breath as a new wave of tears fell. She buried her head in her sister’s lap again. All this time, she thought. All this time she’d judged her mother without understanding what she could have been going through. Monica fell asleep wondering if her mother had been weak or committed to her vows.

  When Monica awoke, the sweet aroma of spaghetti tickled her nostrils. She slowly lifted her head from the pillow that had replaced Karen’s lap and heard the clanging sound of pots and pans. She stood up easily. She still had a dull headache.

  “What are you doing?” she asked her sister as she walked into the kitchen.

  Standing over a pot of simmering meat sauce, Karen raised an eyebrow and said, “What does it look like? I’m cooking us dinner.”

  “Karen, you don’t have to do that, really.”

  “Too late. The food’s already almost done and I’m starving. How are you holding up?”

  Thoughts of Bryce’s admission caused Monica’s eyes to well and a lump to rise in her throat.

  “I wanted it to be a bad dream, Karen,” she said solemnly. She took a seat by her table. “Before I fell asleep, I prayed that when I woke up, Bryce and I would be cuddling and you wouldn’t be here. But you are here, so it’s not a dream at all. Bryce really did cheat on me. Another woman really is pregnant by him.”

  “Maybe,” Karen reminded her, though it didn’t make a difference.

  “Yeah, maybe. But does it matter? I trusted him and he betrayed me. I feel so cheap, girl. Cheap and used.”

  Karen turned off the fire under the meat sauce and went to Monica, who had a fresh wave of tears streaming from her eyes. She hated to see her sister hurting like this. She put her arm around Monica’s shoulder.

  “I know you’re feeling bad right now sis and I know it’s easy for me to say this, but, things will get better and work out one way or the other. OK? Don’t go feeling cheap or used.”

  “It hurts so bad. All I did was love him, Karen,” Monica said, her torrent falling harder.

  “I know, girl.”

  “I thought he was different, but he’s not. He’s just like all of the other men out there. Him ... the minister ... Jeff. Why is it that the important men in my life have a knack for fooling around on women?”

  Karen shrugged her shoulders and wiped Monica’s tears away. “Immaturity I guess. That’s the only thing I can come up with.”

  “I want to hate him,” Monica said.

  “I know you do.”

  “But I don’t know if I can.”

  “I know you don’t.”

  The sisters sat silent for a few minutes before finally eating. Later that night, Karen called Alex and explained what happened. Alex feigned surprise, again. Karen spent the night with her younger sister. In the morning, Monica woke up once again hoping to see Bryce beside her.

  15

  Jeff sat in his leather chair, disappointed and angry with himself. Angela McCarthy had just left his office. She was the wife of Dale McCarthy, one of North Carolina’s wealthiest businessmen. Angela thought her husband should have married his job, because he spent more time there than at home. She was also irritated because they rarely had sex anymore, because her husband was usually too tired. And for Angela, a beautiful forty-five-year-old woman with the body of a thirty-year-old, not enough sex was a crime.

  Jeff found it hard to believe that Dale wouldn’t want to have sex with her, because he’d wanted to every time she’d come in for a session. But Angela was his patient and he knew not to cross that line. At least he used to.

  His wish just came true.

  Angela had been attracted to Jeff’s chocolate-brown skin and his sleepy eyes the first time she’d seen him. She’d always wanted to feel his manhood deep inside of her, giving her what her husband wouldn’t. She’d fantasized about it. She’d had erotic dreams about Jeff giving her therapy from behind. She knew Jeff was attracted to her. She could tell by the way he stared at her C-cup sized breasts. That’s why she wore the low-cut tops she did. That’s why she wore the mini-skirts without panties. She liked to watch Jeff try and avoid taking a peek at her love box whenever she crossed her legs slowly, allowing enough time for a view.

  Jeff’s wish came true because Angela made it happen.

  She called him pretending to be distraught and on the verge of a breakdown. She couldn’t take the lack of affection. She couldn’t handle being ignored. She felt unloved, unwanted.

  Jeff, please help me.

  Being the good doctor that he was, Angela knew that Jeff would tell her to come by the office. So she did, wearing a trench coat with nothing underneath. And when she walked into his office, locked the door behind her, and let her coat fall to the ground, Jeff’s morality headed south.

  After making sure his secretary had gone home, Jeff gave Angela the therapy she’d yearned for. With every prescribed thrust, Angela McCarthy moaned and smiled. She worked herself into a frenzy as she imagined her husband’s reaction if he knew she’d fucked a black man. A very well-endowed Black man, who made her orgasm multiple times. A feat her husband hadn’t accomplished in fifteen years. When the session was finished, Angela slipped on her coat, kissed Jeff lightly on the cheek for a job well done, and walked out of the office to go back home to her boring husband. The next time she and Dale had sex, she would imagine it was Jeff inside of her.

  Jeff sat in his chair angry at how weak he’d been. He thought about Sherry and the night they’d shared together. They’d eaten the dinner he’d prepared, and before going into the living room to relax, he got down on one knee and proposed. She said yes. The rest of the night was spent in bed making love.

  Jeff closed his eyes and massaged his temples. He wanted to do something he’d never done before—be faithful. He grabbed the phone and dialed a number he hadn’t dialed in a long while.

  “Zion Baptist Church, Reverend Stewart Blige speaking.”

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “How are you, boy? It’s been a while. How have you been?”

  “I’ve been good. Just busy.”

  “I know the feel
ing. So how’s everything else going for you? You find that special woman yet? Speaking of which, are you coming to your mama’s dinner?”

  “I’m coming.”

  “Good. It’ll give us a chance to catch up. You know you only live an hour away. You could come by and visit more often.”

  Jeff didn’t respond, but instead leaned forward on his elbows. “Dad, you mind if I ask you something?”

  “Of course not. You sound a little down. Is everything all right?”

  Jeff hesitated for a second, contemplating whether or not to ask the question that had been on his mind. “Dad, do you really love Mama?”

  “What kind of question is that to ask me, boy? Of course I love your mama.”

  “If you love her, then why are you unfaithful to her?”

  There was a short moment of silence before his father said, “You’re out of line, Jeffrey.”

  “How, Dad? How am I being out of line?”

  “It’s not your place to ask me a question like that,” Stewart said angrily.

  “How the hell is it not my place? It’s not like I asked some out of the way question.”

  “Jeffrey, I don’t care how old you are, I am your father, and you will respect me as such. You hear me, boy?”

  “What do you know about respect?” Jeff asked furiously. “Is that what you call what you’ve given Mama over the years?”

  “Who are you to question me, boy?”

  “I’m your son.”

  “That’s right, Jeffrey. You’re my son. My unmarried son, who has no idea what marriage is about.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me, Dad? Why don’t you help me understand how you could be consistently unfaithful to a woman who’s done nothing but love, honor, and respect you?” Jeff sat back in his chair with tears spilling from his eyes.

  “Jeff, why are you asking me these questions?” Stewart asked.

  Jeff squeezed his eyes tightly. “I’m asking, Dad, because I have finally found a woman who means something to me. Something more than just a sex partner.”

  “And what does that have to do with me?”

  “Everything, Dad! It has everything to do with you. I grew up watching you disrespect Mama’s love. She did everything for you, Dad. She loved you and stayed by your side when other women would have left. You say you love Mama, and that she’s a special woman, but you never acted like you truly meant that. You can’t possibly mean what you say about her by fooling around on her.”