Diva Diaries

by Janine A. Morris

  “Dakota, I know we have had some problems here and there, but I care a lot about you and I would like us to continue seeing each other.”

  Dakota realized that Tony was probably not going to let her go that easy. He didn’t care enough about her to make her wifey, but he still wanted her on the roster. The thing was, Dakota was tired of playing games.

  108

  For Life

  It was about 8:00 P.M., and Jordan was just getting home from work. Jayon and Elizabeth were both out of the office that day, and she’d had a pretty busy day there alone. As she was driving up to her house, she realized that some of her lights were on. She didn’t know for sure, but she figured she’d left some lights on when she’d left the house earlier. She parked her Jeep, got her stuff out of the backseat, and walked up to her door.

  When she walked in her house, the living room lights were on, and the rest of them were off. She couldn’t tell if the motion sensor had turned the light on in the kitchen or if it was already on. She left them all on, figuring she would be going back downstairs when she was done changing. She walked upstairs to her bedroom and kicked her beige Jimmy Choo shoes off and put her beige Her-mès bag on the chair. She removed the clip from her hair, letting her hair fall. She started to scratch her head vigorously—it felt so good to loosen her hair after it had been tied up so tight all day. Then she started to remove her jewelry when she heard a noise. When she turned around, Omar was standing there. He was just standing dead smack in the middle of her doorway. From the look on his face, he wasn’t very happy.

  She looked at him, and instantly she knew something wasn’t right.

  “Omar, what are you doing here? And where is Jason?”

  “You don’t care where Jason is,” he said.

  “Are you OK, Omar?” she asked.

  “Am I OK? Are you OK?”

  “I’m fine—just a little surprised to see you here.”

  She was trying to remain calm because she could tell that Omar was not there for a friendly visit. She never changed the locks on the door because she never felt there was a need to. She never thought Omar even wanted to come over, let alone pop up unexpectedly.

  “Where’s your boyfriend?”

  “Omar ... where is Jason?”

  “He is with my mother—where’s your boyfriend?”

  She didn’t want to answer that question, so she just continued to remove her jewelry. Her heart was beating a hundred times per minutes—she didn’t know what was going on. She was supposed to be happy to see Omar—she hadn’t seen him in months. He always had someone drop Jason off and he was never home when she came to get him. She had been wanting to have a grown-up conversation or see Omar and just give him a hug for a long time, but now that the opportunity was here, it didn’t seem like the time.

  “Are you having sex with him?” Omar asked out of nowhere.

  “Excuse me?” she asked.

  “Don’t fucking play deaf! ARE YOU HAVING SEX WITH HIM?”

  Omar was not himself, and he seemed to be pissed off about something. Unfortunately, it was a surprise to her because she didn’t know what.

  “No, I’m not,” she said, not looking at him.

  “You’re a lying bitch, you know that ...”

  From his response, she could tell that this wasn’t going anywhere good. Omar was probably drunk and angry. She tried to calm him down, but he was just yelling and being really crazy and upset.

  “Did you let another man inside of you Jordan?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  “Why are you doing this, Omar? Since when do you care?”

  “Don’t play stupid with me—we have been together fourteen years! Don’t give me that, I didn’t think you cared shit ... did you sleep with him?”

  “You and I weren’t together,” she said.

  “Not together? Not together? You see this right here?” Omar struggled to get his wedding ring off his finger.

  “ ’Til death do us part, remember?” he said, and he threw the ring at her. She was already on the verge of tears when he first started asking her, but when he threw the ring, she crumbled into sobs.

  “Answer me, Jordan—did you let some man go inside my wife?”

  She just cried—she couldn’t get words out of her mouth.

  He knew the truth. He knew deep down, and he was reacting from the truth that he already knew and really couldn’t bear to hear.

  He let out a loud noise and punched the wall. “I don’t believe this shit! You’re gonna answer my damn question,” he said as he approached her quickly.

  “Lie down,” he said.

  “What?”

  “You heard me, lie down!”

  “Omar, no. Please—just go,” she said with tears running down her face.

  “Jordan—lay your ass down!”

  He gave her a look she had never seen in Omar’s eyes before. In all the years she’d known this man, this wasn’t the Omar she knew. She felt fear. Omar was at a point of rage she had never seen in him before, and she didn’t know what he would do. She laid down to keep from infuriating him any further.

  He began to remove her pants and it felt like a dream, or rather, a nightmare. In her mind she thought she was doubting that he could possibly be doing what it seemed he was doing—until she felt him remove her panties. Her body was tense, and she had curled her legs up, trying to make it harder for him, but it just made him rougher. She cried and asked him to stop. He said he wanted to see if someone else had had sex with her. He began to probe inside of her as he asked, “Did you let someone else in here? Tell me the truth, Jordan! I just want to know the damn truth!” he said, sounding like a crazed madman.

  “Omar, stop! Please stop,” she begged as tears rolled down her face.

  “Not until you tell me the truth,” he replied.

  Finally, her weak body and broken spirit said, “Yes! ... Yes, I did.”

  “Yes?” he said, surprised, as he paused.

  “Yes,” she repeated through her sobs.

  “You slept with him?” he asked as if he needed to verify what she had said.

  “Yes, I slept with him.”

  She felt his body tense up, as he reached and put his arm around her neck and started to choke her. “You let another man inside of you, Jordan?”

  She tried to remove his arms from around her neck. He just continued yelling, “How could you, you fucking whore? After all these years, you do this to me—you sleep with your so-called fucking best friend.”

  As he loosened up on her neck slightly, just enough for her to wheeze some air, he started to pull his self out of his pants. It almost felt like it was all not really happening, someone was going to pinch her at any moment and wake her up. She could smell the liquor on his breath, but didn’t recognize the look in his eyes.

  He had removed his hands from around her neck, and he started having sex with her. She said nothing. Her spirit was broken and she was afraid.

  “I am your husband. You were supposed to have sex with me, no other man. But you had to run out and be a whore—you just couldn’t be alone—right, Jordan?”

  He asked her this as he repeatedly thrust his manhood inside her worn-down body. She had stopped trying. She just lay there, waiting for this torture to be over.

  Her cell phone rang, and it was attached to her pants buckle that he had just removed and still had on the bed. Omar grabbed it, and looked in the Caller ID. It was Jayon.

  “What the fuck do you want with my wife, Jayon?” he said as he answered the phone.

  “Omar?”

  “Yeah, Omar. What do you want? I’m in the middle of making love to my wife—she can’t talk right now.”

  Then he hung up.

  She probably should have screamed, yelled for help, but she didn’t have it in her. She didn’t want to piss Omar off any more, and she didn’t want to involve Jayon. This was her mess—nobody else should have to deal with the consequences.

&n
bsp; Omar continued on as if that awkward phone call didn’t even occur. He was getting his revenge on her and Jayon. Making her feel like a slut, and trying to show Jayon that he had control.

  She just lay there, waiting for it to be over and to be able to run to Jayon so he could console her and make it all better. She didn’t know how he would feel, knowing Omar had been back inside of her. She just cried. What had she done?

  “Whose is this?” Omar asked her.

  When he saw she wasn’t replying, he pulled her hair real hard and then put his hand back around her throat and repeated the question.

  “Whose is this?”

  “Yours,” she said. “All yours.”

  A few strokes later, he ejaculated. He didn’t even pull out—he came inside of her with no regard.

  “That’s right, mine. And don’t you ever forget it,” he said as he got up from the bed and fixed his pants.

  She didn’t get up until she heard him walk down the stairs and out of the door.

  109

  About That Time

  No one could believe it, and Jordan couldn’t quite tell it.

  The night it happened she called only Jayon and her mother. Jayon came right over, and her mother wanted to as well. Jordan told her Jayon was with her, and she didn’t want her to let her dad know, so she should stay home. She put the bolt lock on the door, reset the password, and put the alarm on. She wasn’t scared of the Omar she knew, but she was of the Omar who had just left her house.

  Jayon was very upset, and although she was sure he had a million thoughts and questions, he just lay with her in the bed, letting her cry. It was hard for him, because at the end of the day, Omar was her husband. It was almost understandable what he was going through. She believed that it was the liquor. She knew Omar was going to wake up the next day pretending to be oblivious to what he did, and just say he was sorry.

  Which he did, the very next day at about noon. When he called, she didn’t answer—she was home with Jayon. They had both taken the day off. Omar left a message apologizing.

  “I can’t even believe what I am remembering about last night. I’m hoping some of it is not real. If even any of it really happened last night—PLEASE call me. I AM so sorry, J. I would’ve never wanted to hurt you, physically or emotionally. I want to come over there but I know you don’t want to see me. Please call me!”

  She was angry and hurt. She felt invaded and disrespected—he made her feel like a slut. It felt crazy to be feeling this way, when Omar was still her husband. Technically, this was still his. He just handled everything so terribly, and although she knew he was under the influence, it was no excuse.

  She knew she could send Omar to jail over this, but she didn’t want to. Chrasey and Dakota were pissed off, but they understood why she didn’t want to take it there. Her mother told her to call the cops, get his black behind put in jail. She had to explain to her and Jayon that he is the father of her child—why would she want to do that to her son? These were her and his father’s problems—they would have to resolve them without hurting Jason. He would never forgive her. Besides, a piece of her knew that was Omar’s pain surfacing. She knew, because hers surfaced periodically, and she knew how it felt to just want to do something, or to change things. Last night was just Omar trying to feel in control again. He had called three times today—this was the man who wouldn’t take her calls, so it was clear he knew he had messed up. He was probably worried she was going to press charges, and she was sure he really felt bad about what he did.

  Dakota was telling her how thankful she should be that she was on the pill. The last thing Jordan wanted was to get pregnant and not know who the daddy was. That was before she told her she wasn’t on the pill. She had been on and off of them, trying to find the right one for her, and this month she was off. Dakota didn’t even have a response to that information. They wanted to call Jordan silly and stupid for taking those risks. She explained to them that she and Jayon were careful and barely sleeping together; she wasn’t expecting to be raped.

  She didn’t bother to call Omar back until late that next day; he was home and answered her call immediately. First, he let her talk to Jason, as if that would remind her of their big picture. She missed her baby, and it was great to hear his voice. She didn’t want to have an emotional breakdown on the phone with him, so she hurried and asked to speak to Omar. She didn’t even argue or yell or anything—she remained very calm. He asked her some questions, and she answered calmly. He apologized over and over, and explained he had come over to talk, and when he was there, he saw pictures of Jayon and he got upset. He had already been drinking, but while he waited he had a drink or two from their bar. He said he never intended to get that drunk, and never intended to argue with her or hurt her.

  Omar was never violent like that—not toward her at least. She believed he didn’t mean to do what he did. Still, it was done, and this buried them even more. As much as he didn’t mean it, would he understand what it felt like to be ungently finger-fucked or forced to have sex while you’re hysterically crying? He wouldn’t, and every time she remembered it, it would be his face and his liquored breath she would remember. Not something that was going to be forgotten. So she just told him not to worry, she wasn’t pressing charges, and she made sure he knew it had a lot to do with Jason. She also told him that the divorce papers would be in the mail the next day. He asked her once not to do that, and repeated that he was sorry. She told him one more time to look out for the papers, sign them, and send them back. Then she ended the phone call.

  More than anything she just wanted to put last night behind her and out of her memory.

  110

  Second Chance

  Dakota didn’t want to be so pessimistic.

  She wasn’t sure if the reason David was looking so good to her was because she was just trying to find someone to fill the void. She didn’t want to be the woman who always needed someone in her bed to feel whole. She just found herself more intrigued by him than she had been for the three years she had known him.

  He was on his way over to make dinner, and she was reluctant to have him over because she wasn’t sure if she was ready for anything intimate. He had assured her that he just wanted to come over and make her a meal and to make her feel better. It didn’t really matter, because she wasn’t ready. Her vagina hadn’t been tended to in over a month, but as much as she wanted some attention, her emotions wouldn’t allow her to get involved. She was still a little disturbed from the miscarriage, and was still trying to deal with the decision to leave Tony’s sorry ass the hell alone.

  It hadn’t been an easy couple of months. Luckily, she had her girls to make it all better; they had been by almost every day, making sure she didn’t slip into depression. They cooked dinner for her, brought her favorite desserts, shared movie nights. It was these past couple of months that reminded Dakota why they were truly the sisters she never had. Even Jordan, with her crazy, busy life, found time to come by regularly to do whatever she could. She loved those girls. Chrasey and Jordan were the best, and she didn’t know what she would have done without them. Tony surely wasn’t any help—the little he did wasn’t enough. He tried to come over, do some sweet things, bring food and stuff like that. The thing was, he couldn’t be with her all the time; he couldn’t be there the way she needed him. The fact was, whether he would deny it or not, he had Jonelle at home and there weren’t but so many unspoken-for hours in his day. He tried to make Dakota feel like a priority, but at this point, reality was harsher than ever. She knew the truth and it hurt, so just hearing the lies wasn’t enough anymore. He didn’t realize that, but it was becoming real obvious to her.

  David never left her side through it all. She knew, even when things were good with Tony, that David would always be there. He dealt with other girls, too, but she always knew that he would be there when she needed him. He had been trying to become more than what he was to her for quite some time, but she was too silly to value that. At one
point it used to annoy her, his sweet-talking and his persistency, trying to get her to settle down with him. Now she realized what she had been missing the whole time. David cared about her for her, and she didn’t know how to appreciate that. She was too busy chasing Tony to realize what she had right within her reach. A good, handsome, responsible man with a good job and he wanted to settle down. David must have known it was only a matter of time before she would appreciate him, because he stuck around long enough to give her the chance to.

  It was 8:37 when she heard the knock at her door. She muted her television, scooted off the bed, glanced in the mirror, and walked toward the door. For some reason, she had butterflies in her stomach. She didn’t know if it was fear or curiosity, she just knew that for some reason she was not comfortable with this visit quite yet. Once she opened the door, David was standing there with a picnic basket and a flower. That was his thing—he always seemed to bring her a single rose whenever he was coming over. It became his signature, and for the first time she really noticed it. He handed her the rose as he said, “Hello, Dakota.”

  “Hey, David,” she said as she cleared the doorway for him to walk inside. As he passed by her, he gave her a kiss on the cheek and continued toward the kitchen. She closed the door behind him, and followed him.

  “So how are you feeling?” he asked while he walked by.

  “I’m pretty good. Thanks for asking.”

  As they reached the kitchen, he placed the basket down, turned to her and scooped her in his arms.

  “You don’t have to thank me for asking. I truly want to know.”

  “I know, David. I just appreciate that you really want to know,” she said as she started to feel uncomfortable.

  David was too real, too genuine, and too good. She didn’t know how to deal with his type of man—she was used to the phony liars who didn’t take the time to cater to their women. David was truly the opposite—he made her feel like he would take care of her every emotional need.

  “Well, what’s for dinner?” she asked, trying to break the awkward silence.