Single AF (Social Experiment Book 1)

by Sherelle Green

  “But I admit, I was selfish,” he continued. “You did my laundry. Cooked me three meals a day. You walked my dog. Gave me pedicures when I was on my feet too long. Gave me decent head.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I raised an eyebrow. “Decent head?” Call me crazy, but out of all of the crap he was reminiscing about, I refused to believe I didn’t give bomb head.

  He smirked. “Just messing with you. You gave me amazing head. We had sex on the regular. Our talks were some of the best I’ve ever had. Life-changing even.” His face grew serious. “When we talked, you mentioned that you needed to know why we broke up, and truth is, one day I woke up and realized that I didn’t love you. I cared for you a lot, but I didn’t love you like you loved me.”

  I took a deep breath, trying not to let his truth affect me. “Then why lead me on?” I asked. “Why make me believe you wanted to marry me and have a future if you never loved me at all?”

  “You reminded me of my mother,” he explained.

  I turned up my nose. “Having sex with me reminded you of your mother?”

  “No,” he said with a laugh. “After cheating on you with my therapist and those other no-name women, I realized that your aura and your clingy-energy was the type of overbearing, yet nurturing mentality I always wanted my mother to have. She never truly loved me like a mother should love a son, so when you came into my life, you filled that void I didn’t know I had.”

  “So leading me on was better than losing me,” I said, my voice sounding angrier than I wanted it to. I didn’t want him to know he still affected me, but damnit, he did.

  “You’re exactly right. I couldn’t risk not having you in my life even if that meant I had to sleep with other women to feel the romantic void that you couldn’t fill.”

  Shit. That hurt. Yet, instead of cursing him out or suffocating him with one of the uncomfortable pillows we were sitting on, I looked him dead in the eye, took his hand, and told him, “I forgive you. I forgive you for the way you treated me. I forgive you for cheating on me. And more importantly, I thank you for not marrying me just to keep me around. You breaking my heart and letting me free was the best thing that could have happened to me.”

  He frowned. “I never apologized. I was simply letting you know that’s why we broke up. I’ve come to realize that apologies are for the weak-minded, and you and I both know, you were the weak one in our relationship. But part of that is my fault because you didn’t know your worth to me. You didn’t know how much I truly needed you.”

  Because I reminded you of your mother. He didn’t repeat it, but the words were there, lingering in the air. In my peripheral, I could see Tone adjusting himself, muttering something under his breath, but I couldn’t hear his words.

  I wasn’t sure what came over me, but suddenly, I realized that I didn’t have to sit there and listen to Jeff’s crap anymore. We had more than enough footage of this mess. “Jeff, I want to thank you for your time today and for reminding me that you are probably one of the worst decisions I’ve ever made in life.”

  His eyes widened. “You don’t mean that, cupcake.”

  “Oh, but I do.” I gave Tone the motion that it was time to go. “But I’m not a cruel bitch, so I want to leave you with these final words.” I reached out and grabbed his hands, sick to my stomach that even after everything, he still looked at me with those hopeful eyes. Like in some crazy alternate universe, I was still his muse for life.

  “Jeff, I want you to always remember that this was the moment you realized that you are a sad, miserable, and lonely person who has only gotten validation from instilling doubts and insecurities in others. You are and have always been less than mediocre, and the insane notion you have that the world revolves around you is only you overcompensating for the fact that your penis is so small, it can’t even reach a woman’s hole. I guess now is a good time to tell you that you were really fucking my hand most times because the penis couldn’t reach, and I’m sure you’ve left a line of unsatisfied women in your wake who can back me up on this.”

  He looked so shocked, but I didn’t give him a chance to cut me off. “When you’re old and grey and wondering how your life took such a turn for the worse, you will remember this day as the day you learned that wanting to fuck your mom is not okay.”

  His eyes widened. “I’d never sleep with my mother.”

  “Oh, sweetie. I think you believe that, but you would. Talk to your therapist about that. Regardless, you won’t forget that I’m saying all this on camera right now and exposing you for the self-centered bastard you are. I pray that no woman ever feels less than because of you and your manipulation tactics. Jeff, you ain’t shit, and although I’ve imagined cursing you out for years, now, looking at your sorry ass, I realize I don’t even want to waste another breath on you.”

  He stared at me in horror. “That was mean.”

  I shrugged. “Guess I lied about not being cruel just like you lied to me when we were together.”

  I expected him to curse me out, but instead, a slow smile crept over his obnoxious face. “There’s my feisty Meeka. Always helping me see the light. What can I do to get you back?” He dropped to his knees and clasped his hands together. “I’m not married. You could still be my wife. Please, oh please, Meeka. We would be unstoppable together.”

  “Seriously?” I yelled. “That’s what you got from my rant! Uh, Jeff, it’s time for us to go. Best of luck with your sorry life.”

  I walked out of the room—eager to leave the lounge—with Tone right on my heels, seemingly ready to leave as well. We were in the parking lot when I heard the door to the hookah lounge open. I turned around and caught Jeff waving at me. For a split second, I genuinely wanted to return his wave because I was satisfied that this chapter of my life was closed for good. However, that split moment passed when he yelled, “Until next time, my sweet substitute MILF.”

  “Ew.” I rushed to my car. “Unfortunately, you’ll never see me again, but whatever.”

  “I will,” he said. “Two planets moving at the same time around the sun will eventually meet at the most opportune time.”

  What the hell? “That doesn’t make sense, but okay.” I was almost home free and inside of my car without hearing Tone say any smart shit, but of course, he wouldn’t give me the satisfaction.

  “See you back at the office, Meeka the MILF.”

  I looked his way. “You betta not make that nickname a thing. You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

  “I think I do,” he said with a laugh before his face grew serious. “You handled that better than I would have. Hell, better than anyone I know would have.”

  I shrugged. “I’m just glad that man doesn’t have control over me anymore. I was young, dumb, and naïve.”

  “All of us have been there. You said your peace though.” His eyes held something I couldn’t quite read, and it felt like we were having one of those intimate moments that I rarely had with him.

  “Thanks for saying that.”

  Amusement filled his face when he said, “If I give you a compliment every day at work, can you do my laundry?”

  I rolled my eyes, swatting him on the arm before finally shutting my car door. Before I took off to the office, I leaned back and took a deep breath. I’d spent two years convincing myself that I didn’t have a crush on Tone, but I couldn’t deny that it was really setting in how embarrassing it was going to be having a man I admired—although I’d never tell him that—be a part of these conversations.

  The world may witness my humiliation when my segment aired, but this was different. Tone was getting an unbiased, unedited front row seat to my crazy life and I knew from experience that when a man knew too much about you, it spelled disaster.

  CHAPTER 5

  The only thing worse than a crazy girlfriend

  is a crazy ex-girlfriend.

  ~ Madame Social ~

  T ONE

  “READY FOR EX NUMBER TWO?” Meeka asked as we walked down th
e street, nearing a grocery store.

  “Yes, I’m ready. Are you?”

  She bit her lip, looking at me sheepishly. “Considering the fact that I got in contact with my ex’s roommate and not him, not really. I’m hoping he doesn’t view this as a blindside.”

  “It will be fine. Maybe he’ll be happy to see you.”

  “Um, not likely. Unlike Jeff, Vance had a reason to dump me.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Care to tell me why before we go into the store?”

  She shook her head. “Let’s just go in and see what happens. He’s the manager on duty today according to his roommate. Hopefully, he won’t mind the cameras and will sign the release form.”

  “You got it, boss.” I lifted my camera, propping it on my shoulder. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I was ready for the day, but I didn’t want to throw her off. Two days ago, when we’d talked with Jeff, it had been more brutal than I’d thought it was going to be. Had I not been there, I’m not sure I even would have believed Meeka had dated a man like that.

  It only took me a few seconds to realize I didn’t like the dude. He was an asshole with this holier-than-thou vibe that I just couldn’t get with. Even worse than his demeanor, I didn’t like the way he was talking to Meeka. She’d seemed to get some closure after the whole thing, but I’d been holding that damn camera trying my best not to punch ole’ dude for talking to her like she didn’t have any feelings and hadn’t been invested in their relationship.

  The fact that he’d been wearing a long, yellow robe and beige sandals didn’t help my attitude because obviously, he was trying to look like his version of Jesus with his long, dark hair and beard. Although that beard needed to be introduced to a comb. Even the way he moved his hands around the small, cramped room like he had all of the answers to everything in life was enough for me to want to shut him up. I was two seconds away from yelling, “Jesus is a black man with a natural afro and a smooth, clean face.” But I didn’t think the network nor Meeka would appreciate my outburst.

  “I can’t tell if he’s inside,” Meeka said, breaking my thoughts as she peered into the window of the grocery store. She tugged on her coat, smoothed out her jeans, and adjusted the winter hat on her head; although, to me, she looked damn good and didn’t need to adjust anything. But I figured it was out of nerves.

  We walked into the store and Meeka asked a cashier if he could get the manager.

  “He just went across the street to Al’s Wings to get lunch,” the cashier said. “He should be back in a minute.”

  Meeka glanced outside. “No worries, I love Al’s. We’ll just meet him there.” Al’s Wings wasn’t across the street, but rather, a block down, but as we neared the place, I saw a man walk outside of Al’s.

  “Is that him?” I asked.

  “Yeah, that’s him.” Meeka sped up her walk and lifted her hand as we got closer to him. “Vance, it’s Meeka. Can I talk to you?”

  The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion. Vance, who was chowing down on a chicken wing, glanced up from his food and squinted his eyes.

  “It’s me. Meeka,” she repeated. At the sound of her voice again, his eyes widened and he immediately dropped the rest of the wings he was holding.

  “Oh, hell nah, not this bitch,” he shouted. “I knew I should have gotten that damn restraining order.” Without a second glance, he took off running in the opposite direction. It took a minute for me to register that he’d literally just ran away from us at the sight of recognizing Meeka.

  “What was that about?” I asked.

  She glanced back at me with a guilty expression before lifting her gaze up to the sky, and quickly spitting out something that sounded like a nursery rhyme I used to say when I was a kid.

  “What did you say?” I asked. She motioned for me to cut off the camera and since I was still confused, I did.

  “Promise you won’t tease me for what I’m about to say and do.” She stuck out her hand.

  I accepted her hand, too curious not to. “I promise.” A couple seconds later, I understood why she’d asked me to make the promise because I swear, I wanted to laugh at her words.

  Cracking her neck, she talk-sang, “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. Catch a brotha by the toe. If he hollers let him go. Or be a fast bitch and catch that hoe.”

  Without any additional warning, she took off running after him, leaving me standing there to figure out what the hell she’d just said and why the hell I wanted to hear more. Since I didn’t know this Vance dude and wasn’t comfortable with Meeka being on her own, I chased after her, making sure I cut the camera back on because after all, I needed to document everything even if we couldn’t use the footage.

  While I chased after Meeka who was chasing after Vance, I realized that never in the entire twelve years of my career did I have to run down a busy Chicago street in the damn cold for a story when I didn’t even know what the story was.

  After three blocks, I rounded the corner, grateful that they’d stopped running because even though I worked out, this camera was heavy, the wind chill was almost unbearable, and my ass was tired because I laughed most of the way as I repeated the words she’d said in my head.

  “You do realize stalking me is illegal, right?” Vance wheezed as I approached. He was leaning over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. Meeka was doing the same, but was leaning against the side of a building instead.

  “I’m not stalking you. I emailed you to let you know that I need to talk to you about our past relationship for a project with The Social Experiment Network.”

  “What relationship?” he shot back. “You mean the one where you hacked into my Tinder account and pretended to be me?”

  “I didn’t hack into your account,” she countered. “I created a separate account to see if you were cheating, and guess what! You were!”

  I adjusted the camera, zooming in on both Vance and Meeka. It felt wrong recording their interaction, but Meeka was a professional so I knew she’d understand that I needed to get the footage.

  “And that shit was whack,” he said. “You pretended to be another chick for months. Didn’t you think about the fact that I was talking to you, confiding in you, while you were pretending to be someone else.”

  Meeka smacked her lips. “No one confides in someone on Tinder. It’s a booty-call app. Besides, I know my alter-ego wasn’t the only chick you were talking to on there. And you had the nerve to tell these hoes out there that your girlfriend was crazy.”

  “That’s because you are!” he yelled, grabbing his head in frustration. “Proof is in the crap you pulled when we were together. It was too damn much, Meeka. You’re too damn much. Always eavesdropping on my phone conversations when someone called. Stalking any girl who made a comment on my social media pages. Asking who I was with when I was out late.”

  “That’s stuff that any girlfriend would do,” Meeka defended.

  “Nah, I don’t buy that shit. I never pretended to be a saint. Besides, you should have known I’d step out on you when you decided not to give me any.”

  Meeka crossed her arms over her chest. “Give you some? Boy, do you not remember why? You couldn’t prove to me that you were clean and didn’t have anything contagious when you and I both knew you’d cheated.”

  He pointed a finger at her, which caused me to take a couple steps forward in case the situation got more out of control. There was no way I’d stand for any man laying a hand on Meeka. “My guys warned me about you, but I didn’t listen.” He chuckled, looking behind her at her backside. “But I was too distracted by the booty to peep that you were crazy as hell. Should have known how this would end.”

  She frowned, moving to her left so he couldn’t keep checking her out. “I guess it’s safe to assume that you’re standing firm on the fact that we broke up because of Tinder.”

  “Nope,” he said. “I’m saying we broke up because you’re insane, and although you still fine as hell, I’ll never forget that you blocked all
my exes’ numbers in my phone, too. Had a nigga wondering why no one would hit me back.”

  She winced. “I forgot that part.”

  “Well, I didn’t forget shit.”

  “Oh nah, you can’t do that.” She stepped closer to him, her voice rising. “Like you said. You weren’t a saint.”

  He just stared at her and she stared back. I was trying to keep my opinion to myself, but found myself saying, “Bruh, you shouldn’t have been cheating on her in the first place. Had you been doing what you were supposed to do with Meeka, you wouldn’t have been checking for any side pieces or past ass.”

  “This chump,” he griped. “Whateva, man. I don’t know you and you sure as hell don’t know me. If we’re done here, I got to get back to my store.”

  Meeka stepped aside so he could pass. “That’s fine, I think we’re done here. Just remember that I also emailed you the release form so we can air everything that happened today.”

  He shook his head. “Why should I do that and let you spin the story so that I sound crazy?”

  “I won’t spin anything.” She smacked her lips. “Plus, we’ll plug your grocery store if you sign it. I know it’s always been your dream to own your own store, so maybe this will help you out.”

  He studied her face, seemingly pleased by the offer. “Yeah, okay. I’ll sign it and send it back to you.” Before he left, he gave Meeka another once-over, and damn, I was ready to tell him to keep his eyes in his head.

  When he was out of sight, she sat down on a bench a couple feet away. I sat down beside her and put the camera on my lap.

  “You can keep it on,” she said.

  “You sure?”

  She nodded her head, so I propped the camera back on my shoulder. She started talking almost immediately.

  “Okay, ladies, let’s get real for a moment. I’m not perfect. No one is. However, I feel like we’ve gotten too accustomed to letting men walk all over us. What I learned from my relationship with Vance is that if a man cheats it is not your fault. It’s his. Never let a man use you as an excuse for his own infidelity. Never let him make you stoop to a level you promised you never would. You’re worth more than the crap you put up with. I know sometimes, we convince ourselves that it’s not as bad as it may seem, but do yourself a favor and recognize your worth before you end up losing sight of yourself. You don’t want to stare at your reflection one day and wonder what happened to the woman who used to believe in love and happily ever after’s. Life is far from a fairytale, but she’s still there, inside you … waiting for you to remind her that good men still exist, but sometimes you just have to find them in a sea of deadbeats.”