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The Dirty Divorce

Page 3

by KP, Miss


  Breaking from my deep thought, I heard Rich enter our bedroom. He’d been in the basement playing pool and meeting with his cousin, Carlos, for hours. When he limped into the bathroom and we made eye contact, I felt the sudden urge to curse his ass out. It didn’t even matter to me that his knee was still messed up. At one time, I used to be afraid to express how I felt to Rich fearing that he would hit me for being disrespectful, but now all that shit had changed. I was numb, and just didn’t care anymore.

  “What’s up, babe?” Rich asked as he leaned over and gave me a kiss on my forehead. I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

  I wondered what he wanted because he hadn’t called me babe in a while. “Are you drunk?”

  “I just had a couple of bottles wit’ Los. Why the fuck are you questionin’ me anyway?” he slurred.

  “Because we need to talk.”

  “Man, here we go. What’s up, Lisa?” He sounded irritated as if he knew what I was going to say. He put his hands in the water trying to rub on my legs.

  “Our love has survived many things, but Rich I don’t know about this. I’ve always loved you and forgiven you for your lies and cheating, but this, I just can’t do this anymore.”

  “What are you sayin’, Lisa? Are you tryin’ to leave or something? Bitch, you ain’t leavin’ me.”

  “Bitch! Who the hell are you calling a bitch? You’re an evil, selfish bastard and I’m tired of your ass!” I quickly stood up, got out of the tub and began to dry off. “Tell me the truth, Rich. You fucked that dude’s girl, didn’t you? You said you were done with all of these whores in the streets and yet you’re still out here sleeping around!”

  Rich sighed. “Man, you need to get over that shit. The dude took your pussy, so what, life goes on.” He gently patted his knee. “The doctor talkin’ about I might not walk the same again since I got shot at such a close range. Did you forget about that? I told you I’ma find the niggas who did that to you. Trust me.”

  “Well, what about all the shit he was saying about you and his girl? You think I’m just gonna forget about that? You think I’ma keep sweeping shit under the rug?”

  “That nigga was lyin’ to you. What the hell Lisa, I’m the one who got shot. Do you hear me complainin’ every five minutes about this shit?” When he reached out and grabbed me in his arms, I wondered if this was a bad idea, but felt a need to express myself. “This is forever. You know I love you. Those other bitches never mattered. Don’t I take care of you and keep you in all the flyest shit? Don’t you hit up the fuckin’ mall at least once a week? I don’t take care of those other bitches. You my number one!”

  “Your number one? I should be your only one! I’m your wife and the mother of your children. You should always respect me, but that’s not always the case. These streets have made you a gutter nigga. What would you do if someone disrespected your daughter like this? I’m somebody’s daughter, Rich!” I yelled as I tried to back away from him. As soon as those words came out of my mouth, I instantly missed my father.

  “Lisa, keep Denie out of this. This is about you and me.” The look he gave me instantly told me that I’d struck a nerve.

  He tried to kiss me as I continued to push him away. I didn’t want him to touch me; after what I’d gone through I didn’t want any man to touch me. Rich didn’t like the way I was rejecting him and started to get rough. At that moment, he grabbed me by my hair and forced me out of the bathroom where we ended up on the bed. Lying on top of me, he kissed me all over my neck. He then started to suck on my breasts, biting each one of my nipples. Immediately, I flashed back to being raped and started screaming.

  “Rich stop it! Get off of me!”

  “You’re gonna give me some pussy. I need to feel you, Lisa!”

  I could feel Rich’s hard dick pressing against my leg. At one point in my life it made me want him, but times were different now. I had no desire to ever let Rich make love to me again. Moments later, Carlos came to my rescue. He’d obviously heard me screaming all the way from the theater room in the basement.

  “Rich, what the fuck are you doing man?” Carlos yelled as he pulled Rich off of me.

  “My own wife won’t give me any pussy that’s what’s wrong. It’s been three weeks, and she won’t even let me touch her. I can’t even get her to suck my dick.” Rich looked at me. “Now, you wonder why I be fuckin’ them other bitches Lisa, because of shit like this!”

  “Rich, I hate you! I can’t believe you were gonna rape me, too!” I cried.

  “Come on man, you drunk, Rich. That’s your wife. Let’s go back downstairs,” Carlos intervened.

  I was so embarrassed to be completely naked in front of Carlos. I covered myself with my towel and balled up in a fetal position as tears raced down my cheeks.

  Rich continued to rant until he finally decided to go back downstairs. “Come on Los. Leave that bitch alone!” he yelled.

  “Are you okay?” Carlos asked.

  “What do you think, Carlos? You and Rich go out and fuck around on me and Marisol and think the shit is cool. You’re the reason why Rich doesn’t make it home some nights.” I often wondered if Rich had a problem with Carlos using the shit he was supposed to be selling. Over the past two years, Carlos had become a heavy cocaine user, who was high most of the time when he came around. He even had Marisol indulging in it now.

  “Look, don’t blame the shit Rich does on me,” Carlos shot back.

  “I was raped because of some woman Rich fucked, and now I’m supposed to want to have sex with him!”

  “You don’t know that this happened because of a bitch, Lisa. All these young niggas have been going hard since the streets been light. That could’ve been a way for him to throw us off.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. I need to call my son. It’s time for him to come home.”

  “No, don’t call Juan. It’ll only cause more problems,”

  Carlos replied.

  The kids hadn’t been home since the incident, and the more I thought about it, Carlos was right. Not only was I was glad that they didn’t have to witness any of this dysfunctional shit, but Juan hated Rich ever since he went to jail a couple of years ago, so him being home would’ve definitely caused more confusion.

  “Just get out!” I yelled.

  “Sorry about all of this, Lisa,” Carlos said before he walked out and shut the bedroom door.

  As more tears began to flow, the more I began to ask myself questions? What happened to that man that I loved? The Juan Sanchez Sr. I fell in love with would’ve never been this disrespectful. Now, he’d become Rich, the thoughtless, cruel cheating asshole who I couldn’t stand to be around. He didn’t even like for me to call him Juan anymore. I had to call him by the stupid-ass nickname his boys had given him years ago. Our lives were not supposed to be like this.

  After crying for what seemed liked forever, I finally walked back into the bathroom and put on my pineapple Body Shop lotion. I took a deep breath as I opened the medicine cabinet. Feeling helpless, I couldn’t believe that I even considered downing the entire bottle of Rich’s pain killers. I just needed to get away. However, the more my son crossed my mind, I knew that I could never leave him. Walking to my customized walk-in closet, I slipped into one of my cashmere Juicy Couture sweat suits to get comfortable. Normally, I would’ve put on something a little sexier, but the last thing I wanted was for Rich to see me partially naked. After hopping on the bed, I turned to VH-1 to catch up on my reality shows until I passed out.

  ***

  The next morning, the sun peaked through my bedroom window waking me up extra early. I also woke up in the bed alone, which wasn’t surprising. I was so used to Rich staying out all night it didn’t even bother me anymore. Going into the bathroom, I washed my face and brushed my teeth before going downstairs to fix some breakfast. After deciding to skip dinner, my stomach was definitely on “E”, and I needed something to control my nausea, which I was sure came from me taking too many pills.

/>   When I walked down stairs, I could hear Rich and Carlos in a deep conversation, obviously plotting something. I was surprised to even see them. I just knew they would still be out getting into some trouble. Whenever Carlos came to my house, it usually meant bad news. Carlos was in the game deep and ran shit on the West Coast, from L.A. to Arizona. With them being first cousins they’d been close since they were young. Rich’s father cared for Carlos most of his life due to Carlos’ father, Lorenzo, being in and out of jail.

  With jet black hair and thick eyebrows, Carlos’ Columbian heritage was very distinctive. Everyone always thought they were brothers because he and Rich looked so much alike, but they were complete opposite. Carlos had this rugged side to him. He dressed in jeans and sweats all the time and wore long cornrows that touched his shoulders. He also had tattoos everywhere, and even had tears tatted on his face under his eye. Rich on the other hand, switched his look up more often. He had more variety in his style. He would wear anything from a button up and loafers, to a hoody and jeans. He dressed for the occasion and was classy, while Carlos was hood.

  When I walked past the family room Carlos said, “Good morning,” while Rich said nothing.

  “Why are you still here? Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I asked irritated. “Does Marisol know where you are?”

  “Lisa, mind your fuckin’ business and stay in a woman’s place,” Rich responded with an old-school authority.

  Ignoring him, I went in the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and decided to make breakfast for the guys despite all the drama the night before. As soon as I put the finishing touches on the eggs, French toast, and turkey bacon, Rich came into the kitchen and just stood in the doorway. Since I knew he was on edge, I decided not to say a word and just fixed my plate.

  “Damn, where’s my plate?” he asked.

  “Fix your own plate!” I snapped.

  As I walked past him, Rich instantly smacked my plate onto the floor. The plate along with the food splattered everywhere.

  “Are you crazy? Why the hell did you do that?”

  “Because you’re tryin’ to be cute. You know better than to talk to me like that,” Rich scolded.

  As bad as I wanted to tell him to clean up the mess, I didn’t have the energy to fight with him. Instead, I got down on my knees and began picking up several pieces of food. Moments later, the front door opened and I heard my son’s, voice. Dropping the bacon back on the floor, I immediately jumped up and went to the foyer to greet my son.

  “What’s up, Ma? What’s wrong?” Juan asked.

  “I missed you,” I cried uncontrollably as he held me.

  Rich walked into the room with a frown. “Didn’t I tell you to stay away from here ‘til I gave you the okay to come back?”

  “Man, I was tired of staying at that chick’s house. She was starting to get on my nerves,” Juan answered.

  “You need to obey me when I tell you not to come home. That’s what’s wrong with you Juan. Your ass never listens,” Rich continued.

  “Look, I’ve been gone for three weeks. How long did you expect me to stay away? I’m not a lil’ kid anymore.” Juan looked around the room. “You told me not to handle any business, and to stay off the street. What’s going on around here?” he questioned.

  I took a step back and looked at my son, who obviously had been working out. His arms were becoming extremely buff. “Did you have enough money to get you through these past few weeks? You know…to buy a few outfits and necessities.” I kept telling Rich to make sure he got some money to Juan instead of just being worried about Denie, but he always had the same response, “He’ll be a’ight.”

  “Yeah, I was straight.” Juan stared at me. “Ma, why are you crying, and what happened to your hair?” He then looked at Rich. “Did you put your hands on her again?”

  Rich chuckled. “This is my wife, boy. Don’t question me about what I do wit’ her. I told you that shit before. Stay out of our business.”

  “Ma, I don’t see how you deal with this shit. Call me when he leaves again,” Juan said. He turned around and started out the door.

  “No, don’t leave,” I pleaded, even though Juan never turned around. I knew he wanted to avoid a fight with Rich.

  “I’m tired of that lil’ nigga being disrespectful. How does he think he’s gonna eat if I don’t supply him wit’ shit,” Rich said. “Now, take your ass in the kitchen and fix me and Carlos a plate.” Rich didn’t even wait for me to respond before he walked away.

  That’s it. I got something for his ass, I thought as I power walked to the kitchen. After warming everything back up, I fixed Carlos’ plate, before starting on Rich’s. Once the French toast was in place, I scooped up the last bit of scrambled eggs and sat them next to the bacon. However, instead of sprinkling a dash of salt, I opened my mouth and let a wad of spit garnish his food. All I could do was smile as I took a fork and mixed the clear salvia into the eggs, instantly losing my appetite.

  “Lisa, hurry up, we hungry!” Rich called out.

  I grabbed Rich’s plate along with Carlos’ and walked back into the family room. “Here you go, I said handing each of them their food.” Moments later, I looked at Rich who was already digging in. “Enjoy,” I said with a devious smile before going back upstairs.

  Laying back down on the bed, I hit the button on the remote for the DVD player, and decided to watch Tyler Perry’s movie, Why Did I Get Married for the umpteenth time. However, this time I started to ask myself that same damn question.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lisa

  Since Rich was still in search of my attacker he’d been extra protective over me, so I had to let him know my every move or take one of his boys with me when I had something to do, which was annoying. It made me wonder if Rich had that many affairs that he couldn’t pin point who was behind this. It was taking way too long to catch those fools. Rich was fast asleep on the couch as I walked into the living room to explain to him that I was going to the hairdresser. He immediately woke up.

  “Where you goin’?” he asked. “What time is it?”

  I looked down at my iced out Chopard watch. “It’s 3:00 in the afternoon. You been sleep since Carlos left. I’m going to get my hair done. I can’t take this anymore,” I said, pulling on my raggedy edges. I still couldn’t figure out why those dudes had cut off my ponytail or what they got out of it.

  Rich looked at me sideways. “Is Jermaine doin’ it?”

  “No, I’m going to Trixie. Jermaine was booked.”

  “Didn’t I tell you I didn’t want you goin’ to that bitches shop? Do you need me to call so Jermaine can fit you in?”

  “No, Rich. I just didn’t feel like sitting in Jermaine’s shop all day since I didn’t make an appointment earlier.”

  “Well, that’s too bad. Either go to Jermaine or take your ass back upstairs.”

  “Why do you have to act like that, Rich? Trixie has never done anything to you. Why do you hate her so much? Not only is she my hairdresser, but she’s been my friend for years.”

  “I just don’t want my wife hangin’ around whores. That’s all. Besides, that shit might rub off on you.”

  I really wasn’t in the mood to play tug of war with his ass at the moment. “Alright Rich, go back to sleep. I’ll call Jermaine and see if he can squeeze me in,” I lied.

  “Good. I’m tired of tellin’ you to stay away from Trixie’s hot-ass.” Rich was about to turn over, but quickly continued. “Oh, by the way, I’m ready for Denie to come back home. After you call Jermaine, make sure you call Marisol and tell her to meet you at the salon.”

  “So, what about Juan? Can I call him, so he can feel comfortable about being home this time?”

  “I guess. If that muthafucka don’t stop comin’ slick out his mouth, he’s gonna be out for good.”

  I was happy that Rich agreed for them to come back, but I wasn’t sure if Juan would even want to come back since him and Rich were always bumping heads. Denie, I knew was dying to
get home to her father. I knew that I was a Daddy’s girl growing up, but Denie was a special case. She acted as if she was Rich’s wife sometimes, and was always up under him every five minutes; asking him about his whereabouts. It was a bit frustrating at times how Rich showed his favoritism, but I had to admit…I did the exact same thing with Juan.

  After walking back upstairs, I called Marisol and told her to meet me at Trixie’s hair salon with Denie. I also told her not to let Carlos know I was getting my hair done there and she agreed. Slipping on my D&G long sleeve t-shirt, J Brand jeans, and one of Rich’s W fitted baseball caps to cover my chopped up hair, I prepared for my interrogation at the hair dresser. Before leaving out the door, I snuck back into the living room, and grabbed a wad of cash out of Rich’s jean pockets that were lying on the floor. It was definitely more than what I needed for my hair, but I damn sure wasn’t about to put any of it back. After all I’d gone through, I deserved whatever I wanted. Besides, he should’ve been used to me peeling off his money, something I’d been doing for years.

  Entering the family room, I looked up at the huge twelve foot Christmas tree. The smell of pine was so refreshing, but still it didn’t feel quite like the holidays, even though Christmas was in a few days. Grabbing my shearling Storm Louis Vuitton bag, I threw my I-pod and one of my new novels inside and headed out the door.

  As soon as I jumped in my X6 BMW, my paranoia kicked in. I checked my surroundings before pulling completely out of the garage and turned on my radio. There were a variety of different CD’s in my six disc changer, but I was trying to find the right song for my mood. After pushing number two, Stephanie Mills blasted through my speakers. Singing to the top of my lungs, it wasn’t long before I broke down crying.

  “Damn Rich, how did we get here?” I yelled out.

  My physical aches were healed, but I couldn’t see my mental pain ever going away. I was scarred for life. All I wanted was the truth from him and maybe it would help us both heal. I hated when he lied to me. He swore that he hadn’t been unfaithful, but I found that hard to believe. I continued to cry all the way to Georgia Avenue, but knew I had to get myself together because I could never let those bitches in the hair salon think Rich and I were having problems. They all wished they were his wife, but little did they know being Mrs. Juan Sanchez Sr. carried a hefty price tag.

 

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