How to Lose a Husband

by Toya Wright

  She knew she needed to pull herself together. There weren’t many things that would help her calm down, but a bubble bath guaranteed to soothe her somewhat. She pulled candles from her nightstand, along with the lighter. It was the kind with the extended piece so she didn’t have to hold it close. It was ideal for candle lighting, which she did on a regular basis.

  Paris pressed the flicker. My husband is gay. Flick! When was he sleeping with these men? Flick! He knew he was gay when he married me. Flick! Muthafucka! Flick! What am I going to tell our daughter? Flick! I don’t want her around that shit. Flick! Down low brotha, huh? Flick! Where was he sleeping with them? Flick! I hope not in my house! Flick! Did he fuck men in my bed? Flick! In our bed? Flick! Why is this happening to me? Flick! I can’t sleep on this bed, these sheet. Flick! He probably fucked them in my bed! Flick!

  “I can’t sleep on this fucking bed anymore!” Paris screamed. Her words seemed to echo off the walls. Flick! “Fuck somebody else on this bed now, muthafucka!” Paris stood there watching her bed burn. She threw up right next to it, then crumpled down to the floor.

  She clearly was too distressed to comprehend her actions. She laid there inconsolable…until she saw smoke. She smelled it, but it didn’t register. Paris turned around and saw her bed bellowing with smoke. How flammable silk sheets and Egyptian cotton drapes were was the last thing on her heartbroken mind. It seemed unreal how quickly the fire spread.

  Paris saw the fire crawling up the walls and panic suddenly set in. She stood up, then fell because her legs were weak. She slinked over to the chaise and used it to pull herself up to a standing position then ran out of the room. She grabbed the handrail and hurried up the stairs to get Amarii. She rushed to the crib and saw Amarii was gone and panicked even more. Her heart was beating out of her chest, she frantically looked for Amarii in the room thinking she had gotten out of the crib.

  “Miranda,” she said, breathing a huge sigh of relief. Paris got the hell outta there. Not before noticing how fast her entire bottom floor was becoming engulfed in flames. The smoke was so thick, she could barely see the door. She got out and realized the only thing she had were the clothes on her back. She raced back in to pick up her purse. Thankfully it wasn’t far from the door.

  Standing across the street, she heard the sound of her windows breaking out. The fire was now breathing. Neighbors checked on her, sat her down on the grass and called the fire department. She was in awe of what was happening. Paris couldn’t even process it.

  She called me and all she could say was, “Come.” I kept asking questions and got no response. When I heard the sirens in the background, I hopped my ass in the car and made it to her house in 10 minutes flat. The drive is normally double that.

  Paris sat there, on the grass at her neighbors’ house until long after all the flames were out. I let The Divas know what was going on. It was painful. All I knew was my girl’s house had burned down, didn’t know anything about Trey at that time. The house was almost completely engulfed in flames.

  When I arrived, it seemed the firefighters were only just starting to fight the blaze. I sat down next to my friend. She felt so fragile in my hands. Amarii’s room was directly on top of her and Trey’s room. Both were a total loss, so was the living room and kitchen. The other rooms, including Trey’s office weren’t destroyed by fire. What the fire didn’t get, the water did.

  The police and fire marshal asked questions, took a written statement and told her about the overall process. I insisted that she come to my house. My boys were old enough to not want to be bothered with us, so she was safe to mourn her house in peace.

  I took off work the next day to be with her. She told me everything. Since I was there when she was questioned, I knew she lied to the police saying a candle turned over and started it. They didn’t buy her story, launched an investigation and charged her with arson.

  The Divas were devastated. It was horrible seeing our friend like that. The first call she was allowed to make was to her lawyer. I had already done that. Madison was on the case.

  It was a tense few months. Trey found out what Paris knew, he filed for divorce and custody of the child, citing she was emotionally unstable and about to stand trial for arson. The courts gave temporary custody to him until the arson case was finished. Even though he made significantly more than his wife, he didn’t want to pay any alimony or child support.

  She did not pose a flight risk, so she was able to be free while the case was ongoing. Her father went to court with her every day, so did Sade. They were there to show support. Meanwhile, the blogs were blowing up, Top Agent Trey Barnes’s Wife Burns House Down After Catching Him In Bed With Gay Lover.

  Surprisingly, the stylists from the shop also showed up to give support. The first day, they all came, cancelled all of their clients to be there for their sista. Faithful clients came. Miranda came as well.

  Paris was so overwhelmed by the love. She broke down crying when she walked into the courtroom and saw her support system. Pitbull Madison used Miranda as the key witness in the trial to attest to Paris’ mental state at the time of the fire. Madison didn’t say Paris did not intentionally set the blaze, but she created enough reasonable doubt making the candle story plausible.

  Her not-guilty verdict was read just days before we started planning the trip. It was also the catalyst for the trip. The Divas had to do a mild intervention to get her back on track. Not only had Paris lost her husband, but she lost everything she had.

  See, Paris lost her husband because he was gay. Period. What he wanted, she simply could not offer other than someone to cover up his lifestyle. He never asked her to cover for him, he just assumed he could work out whatever he needed to. He really needed her more than she needed him…she was just not aware of what was going on.

  She had become a fractured shell of who she used to be. She had been drowning in keeping up a façade of a happy, healthy marriage, then floundering in a sea of pseudo-happiness on her way to divorce court with a poor self-image.

  Paris needs to be honest with herself, find out who she is and what she wants. She didn’t want to be divorced. She didn’t sign up for marriage, just to end up on the wrong side of it with a gay husband. Paris still was not over Trey. I think anybody could understand why.

  LOLA

  next day, we did a little shopping. We each got trinkets to remember our girls’ excursion in the islands. Decorative coconut shells with beautiful pictures carved into them and gorgeous pictures of now familiar landscape. Madison grabbed her step-daughters keychains with some sort of colored liquid to divide the “water” from the “sky” and tiny boats, so the boats appeared to be floating on water. She bought her step-son pens that lit up with each pen stroke; all bearing the island’s name.

  We stopped at a food stand on the side of the road. They served fruit, hot food, as well as beer. It looked like a happening little spot. There was music blasting and the locals were not shy. As they waited in line, they were singing and dancing to the music. The women cooking on the make shift stove were singing and dancing as well. They all had a carefree attitude.

  I was the first one off the taxi. As soon as I got off, I hopped right into the rhythm with them. They could tell we were tourists and were instantly tickled. After four days, I felt like I had some of that Carribbean ‘riddum’ flowing through my own veins. Their beats were as fresh and lively as the bright colors they wore. The Divas jumped off and right into a step with me.

  It was so amazing being right there on the side of the road giving a shimmy, in a warm sun and salty breeze. The locals gave new meaning to the phrase, ‘Don’t worry, be happy’.

  We tried to tell Paris not to chug her beer so fast. We had already done our routine of taking shots on the boat while skirting on open water past other islands, so we were feeling pretty nice. Then here she comes downing a beer like water. She drank the first one so fast, a bead of water ran from the bottle, down her arm and she was finished before the droplet hit the
ground. She barely even touched her food. After that Paris began dancing with a man whispering sweet island tings in her ear and she didn’t know what he was saying. They were speaking more through the movement of their hips.

  Kennedi found an admirer to dance with. Or rather, he found her. He could not have been a day over 10 years old. His smile boasted uneven adult teeth that were shifting their way into predestined places. They held hands and danced together, it was so cute.

  His mom, who looked to be more our age, was so smitten. At first, she tried to deter her son from walking over. It was obvious that he wanted to come, he just swayed his young self over to Kennedi. Beaming from ear to ear, she grabbed his hand and they danced together. It was so cute.

  “Uhh ohh, Sade is breaking it down, y’all!” I teased. She has no rhythm and she knows it. She was cute though, especially rocking that short, pixie cut.

  “You see me! Don’t hate,” she remarked bobbing her head up and down off beat. She tried her best to find it, it just escaped her. We all have that one friend who can’t dance to save their life. An older woman walked over to her laughing and clapping. It was all in fun, they had a good time.

  “That’s right, Boo! Shake what ya mama gave ya,” British encouraged. Sade wobbled harder, even more off beat. We were all laughing at her. It was at that moment, I realized what a bond we had. There were so many years between us; our friendship had grown stronger and stronger. We had all been through so much.

  When shit hits the fan, you see who your true friends are especially if you are going through it publically. These days it’s hard to find genuine people. Everybody is out for what they can get, a leg up or get some tea. We don’t down each other, we don’t compete with each other, it’s about Girl Power and having each other’s backs! Right then, at that very second, we were in letting loose in paradise.

  We had to practically drag Paris away from the stand. She was mad that we wanted to keep it moving. She stammered over to the taxi, taking more steps than required. Moving without really going anywhere. It was time to go. We took the yacht out to sea and just jammed out. The captain kept us in somewhat shallow water, so we felt comfortable getting out of the boat and playing around in the water. There is something about the motion of the ocean that seems to take cares away.

  The boat was loaded with plenty of snacks to keep us from starving. And yes! We kept the drinks flowing. Even Kennedi finally got her ass in the water.

  “Ok, girls! Princess Kennedi is about to get in the water,” she began a disclaimer. “No dousing me with water. Ok, chicas?”

  She put her precious hair up in a bun at the top of her head and the captain put a lifesaver in the water for her to lounge in. She effortlessly bobbed up and down in the water, the current making love to the air.

  Of course you know we had to get her ass. SPLASH! Paris’s drunk ass swam underneath her and pushed her butt up while Sade pulled the lifesaver from under her. She came up screaming, then joined right in with the horseplay.

  “Y’all, this is the last night here,” Sade started.

  “We’re gonna miss this shit for real,” British added. “But I’ll be glad to get back to my man!”

  “You mean Kenya’s man,” I said. She knew it was coming.

  “Why the fuck do you always come…for…me? Did I come for you?”

  “British, you can do better. That nigga…”

  “Ladies! Ladies!” Kennedi yelled splashing us both. “C’mon now!”

  British angrily swam to the ladder and climbed onto the boat. The mood was kinda screwed by that point. The sun had begun making its way to the western part of the sky, we got out of the water and let the yacht take us back to our island, Virgin Gorda. The Divas all made their way to their own rooms to shower and freshen up for a nice dinner. Paris and Madison were talking in Paris’ room.

  “Why do you think Lola keeps getting on British?” Paris started.

  “I guess that’s her damn soap box, girl.”

  “She needs to leave that shit alone.”

  “Well, when you see someone you love making a mistake, don’t you tell them?”

  “Yes, the first time and the second time. British has gone back to Stacks more times than a dog goes to the same spot in the yard to pee!” They laughed. “At some point, you’d think British would get the hint.”

  “One could only hope. Lola probably feels like if she keeps jokingly throwing it out there, British will get the hint.”

  “Hmmm…I can see that. Lola isn’t joking anymore though,” Paris shook her head in agreement.

  “Lola is right. That situation is definitely not the business. At every turn, Stacks shows her his heart belongs to someone else.”

  “Just like Trey showed me. Sometimes, you just don’t want to read the writing on the wall.” Paris spoke in a kinda monotone voice. Madison looked over at her; she could feel it coming.

  “That Trey shit was something totally different, Paris.”

  “It’s all fucked up, right? We are pulling for these men to get it right. Men we love who don’t love us the same.” Paris started to cry. Her eyes welled up easily. “I love him, Madison. I still do. That shit doesn’t just go away because somebody fucks you over. Like, what happened to my lover and my friend? Why didn’t he just tell me he was gay from the jump? We could have been great friends.” Madison walked over to where Paris was sitting on the bed to console her. Madison’s eyes welled up with tears, too. All of a sudden, the door popped open.

  “What are y’all heffas…” British came in loud and wrong. Madison started shaking her head and the tears fell from her eyes. British looked at Paris who, by that time, was laying in Madison’s lap. British came to get me, Sade and Kennedi.

  “I’m just so…so…so embarrassed! Did he not think about how this was going to affect me? Did he think about Amarii?” Paris cried. “Y’all don’t have a clue what this feels like. This…this hurt and betrayal. This shit is on a whole different level!”

  “You’re right. I thought my situation was jacked up. It has nothing on this,” Kennedi said.

  “I have to look in the faces of so many people who knew! I never thought I would lose my husband to another man.” I gave her a few tissues to wipe her face and blow her nose.

  “Paris,” I started, “you can compete with another woman, but you cannot compete with another man. What Trey wants, you can’t give him. You have to just pray for strength to deal with this and wish Trey the best. At the end of the day, you two still have a child together.”

  “Eye roll emoji bitch! Five times!” British blasted, “Wish Trey the best? Hell no! Fuck that! You should have set his ass on fire with the mattress!” They all laughed. “Oh shit, is it safe to say? Is it too soon? If he was gay, he should have just been true to himself and be proud about it.” Sade’s stomach growled loudly, they roared with laughter.

  “Now, girl you know we are not about to end our trip letting you cry your eyes out on this bed. C’mon now. Let’s go eat,” Kennedi said.

  “Look at my face,” Paris said fearful, “I know it’s all red.”

  “Chile, its dark. Ain’t nobody checking for you. They’re all looking for me,” Sade joked and she was the first one out of the door.

  We went to a restaurant with prime real estate right on the water. We literally had to take our shoes off to get there. It was so nice. We requested the table furthest away from the restaurant which was closest to the water. As we caught the last rays of the sun dripping down into the horizon, the waiter brought a light to grace the table. It was in the shape of a cone that changed colors against the white table cloth and white chair covers.

  “Everything on this menu looks so good!” Sade started. Remember, I told you, her ass is greedy! Even though she was probably the smallest, her appetite was definitely the biggest. You know skinny people can eat!

  “You would say that with the tape worm you have in you!” British chimed in, “I don’t know if I want crab cakes or fish.”


  “Ya cyan’t go wrong wit eider uh dem,” the waiter walked up quietly. We didn’t even know he was there. He told us the specials of the day and we collectively placed our orders. We got a round of tropical drinks, the kind that taste good and sneak up on ya.

  Since we could catch the free wifi from a neighboring hotel, everybody leapt on their phones. We were all acting like crack addicts, posting pics of us partying in the ocean to Instagram and Facebook, taking advantage of the hot commodity.

  The truth is, as a society, we have become so dependent on social media, that for many of us, it’s the first thing we do when we wake up and the last thing we do before going to sleep.

  Forget praying and jumping up to pee. A choice between the three can seem like a life decision. People jump on social media as soon as that alarm jolts them from their sleep. It’s like the world will stop turning if we don’t see what was posted while we were sleeping. Logging on for quick bursts, turns into long stints, getting high on ‘likes’. Being on vacation is even worse. Yeah sure, it feels great to disconnect, but it also feels like a part of you is missing.

  “Ok, everybody…phones away!” Madison said, clapping her hands abruptly. She appreciated the break possibly the most out of all of us. Her schedule was the most hectic. Even without kids. “This is our last night here, let’s just enjoy this a little while longer before we plug back into reality.”

  “It has been crazy not logging on in days,” British admitted.

  “You mean every hour on the hour!” Paris said.

  “Ugh! Y’all always coming for me, dang!”

  “It’s too easy, British.”

  “My phone is off!” I said. Click.

  “That’s because you don’t even have followers. It’s easy for you,” British said.