by Naija
“Some domestic shit with my kid’s mother. She found my cell phone bill. Had your phone number highlighted throughout the whole thing. She asked who you were and I told her, mentioned you were pregnant, and she snapped. Started yelling, said I was leaving my family for some pussy. Next thing I knew, she grabbed a steel pipe and hit me with it.”
“Oh. Sorry to hear that,” I said.
He never talked much about his relationship with his children’s mother. When we first met, he led me to believe he had one child when actually he had three with two different women. His son Trey was sixteen, and his daughters Janelle and Carmen were fifteen and four. Truthfully, I never inquired. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to know, but I tried to guard my feelings and how close I got to Troy emotionally. Knowing more than I wanted to about his past could be more detrimental than the relationship already was.
“I’m at this turning point in my life. I want someone in my corner I can trust,” he said.
I wasn’t sure where he was going with the discussion, but I listened intently as he went on.
“Maybe we can start over. Do it right this time,” he said.
“I don’t know about starting over, Troy. I’m very confused mentally right now. I don’t want a man who fucks me when get gets ready, stays out all night, and comes in and out of my life. Troy, I need someone who respects me, can put a ring on my finger, and dedicate his life and love to me, exclusively. I’ll never have that with you.”
“Marry me, Raquel.”
I was flabbergasted when he proposed. This had to be another one of his games, “Come again?” I said. Troy could see the resistance and bitterness that flared within me.
“Yes. I’m not trying to be alone. I want someone to love,” he said.
“We can’t get married. We’re moving in different directions,” I told him. “Matter fact, you don’t even like me.”
“Girlfriend, you’re nuts. Your love is to die for. I’ve held my feelings back from you so long because I was in a bad place with my family. I didn’t want to bring that drama around you. It’s never been personal, the shit that I’ve done in our relationship. I want to start fresh.”
“I don’t think so, Troy. There’s just been so much to happen between us. I just—”
He interrupted me and got down on one knee. I started to breathe heavily as he took my hand. “What are you doing?” I asked him.
“I want you to be my wife,” he said, pulling out a three-carat princess-cut diamond ring set in platinum. “I promise to do right by you,” he said.
My mind was telling me not to accept the ring, but my heart overruled. I loved Troy, “The ring is beautiful.” Tears formed in my eyes when I reflected on the moments we’d shared.
“You don’t have to answer now, but keep this ring,” he said, sliding it on to my ring finger.
I was at a loss for words. We didn’t fall back into our old routine of fucking. That night was different. Instead, he held me in his arms, and we cuddled. We kissed softly and passionately throughout the night like when we first met. Troy always came back strong. Once again, he walked back into my life. I let my heart take a chance to be loved by him.
• • •
Cleaning house wasn’t easy. I wanted to keep in touch with some of the men in my life, but I was marrying Troy and had to close up shop.
For years I’d detached myself emotionally from the men with whom I had sex. I knew how to be a faithful woman—committed to one man, just had refused until this point. If I was going to honestly give it a shot as Troy’s wife, all the sleeping around ended here.
Once Troy’s baby mama Cynthia found out about our engagement, she took Troy to court for child support. He had given her and those two kids everything, and now she was being vengeful. She had been calling my house looking for him. She was so bold she showed up outside one day. She had installed a tracking device on Troy’s Lexus so she knew where I lived. Fortunately, she didn’t know what I looked like, but I’d seen her before driving past my crib in his car.
When Troy left, he originally took the Lexus with him. Since he had two cars, he gave it back so his kids wouldn’t be stranded and suffering from the bullshit she created. When I saw the Lexus cut my corner one day, I knew what was up.
Cynthia was crazy. She didn’t even show up for court after all that shit to get him there. She had called my house looking for Troy before he gave her back the ride, said he stole it and was reporting him to NYPD. That’s when I found out about the illegal shit Troy had in his possession.
We were sitting in my living room on the sofa. Troy was cooking some oxtails for himself and broiling salmon for me. He was rubbing my stomach, playing in my hair, filling me in on the details of his day in court.
“The judge said it was good I showed up. Strengthened my case should she come back with something else.”
“I’m glad things worked favorably for you in court. So, what type of illegal shit you had in your ride?” I asked him, sounding like a real Brooklyn girl. My dialect had adapted quickly, blending in with the native New Yorkers. It didn’t matter if I was in the company of West Indians, Mexicans, or Americans, my lingo mimicked my surroundings.
“Just some shit that could jeopardize my freedom,” he stated.
I couldn’t imagine what that might have been. I knew he didn’t push street pharmaceuticals. Too many people close to him had died or had their lives ruined messing with that shit. His daddy used to be the kingpin before he got saved by the Holy Ghost. That’s why Troy didn’t have any religion. He lost it somewhere along his journey. I kept praying it would return. I pressed the issue. “Straight talk, Troy. What kind of shit did you have?”
“Artillery,” he said. “Nothing serious. The police didn’t need to pull me over and find that in my ride with my suspended license.”
“You need to get that shit straight with your license. How much you owe the DMV?”
“Twenty thousand dollars.”
“Damn. For what?”
“Tickets. Parking my commercial vehicles in residential areas, you know the bullshit.”
“Oh, they are locking your ass up if you get stopped,” I said, laughing.
Troy and I were in a euphoric state. He’d ended his more-than-friends relationship with Cynthia and I’d come out of my protective shell I’d worn for years and done something I’d never done with any man—given Troy a set of keys to my apartment.
Chapter 15|
Troy was confident my love belonged to him and never asked me to get rid of my male friends like some partners did when things turned serious. From the moment we became involved, I knew Troy was capable of changing my licentious ways.
As I headed to my car, the tune of Usher singing “That’s What It’s Made For” went off on my cell phone. It was Khalil.
“Speak,” I said, beating him to the punch line.
“What’s up, love?”
“Headed to my office. How are you?”
“Everything is everything,” he replied. “What’s new?”
“I’m finally settling down. Troy and I got engaged and I gave him a set of keys.”
“Congrats,” Khalil said in a dull tone.
“What’s new with you?”
“Ah, love, you know how it is, busy working. I’m thinking about settling down myself.”
“Really? With the young lady you’d been seeing? What’s her name again?”
“Janet. I’m just not a hundred percent sure what I want yet. You know how that can be,” he said.
“I understand. You have to do what makes sense for you at the end of the day,” I replied. “Have you heard anything about Dorian’s investigation?”
“They have a guy named Darnell in custody. Apparently, he was bangin’ Dorian’s wife. Last I heard the police were looking for her. They think she may be hiding out in the Caymans.”
I couldn’t tell Khalil that Kristie had told me about her lover in one of our sessions. Part of me felt responsible for what
happened to Dorian. I told myself not to feel guilty or take the blame. It wasn’t like Dorian hadn’t already had an altercation with Darnell. He should have known what he was up against.
“How’d they discover it was him?”
“The details were a little sketchy. Sounds like an anonymous source may have caused the detectives to look into this guy. He took a plea bargain when the pressure came down and told the cops Dorian’s wife was the master mind behind the attack.”
I’d been the unidentified informant who tipped the police off.
“Is there something on your mind, Khalil? You seem distant,” I asked.
“I’m fine, love. Hey, so was it the ring or something else that sparked you to give Troy keys to your crib?”
“He is my fiancé, Khalil. He isn’t living with me. He just has access to my home. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” Khalil said.
“Let me find out you’re jealous, Khalil,” I teased.
Khalil had been cold on the phone. I’d known him too long and something was bothering him. It didn’t matter. I was done investing in other people’s drama. I wasn’t going to allow him to steal my joy. If he wasn’t happy for Troy and I, fuck him.
• • •
My business was booming, and I was finally in a happy place. Troy and I were in sync. It never crossed my mind that we could love so hard, but we did. His baby mama finally quit calling and driving by my house. The hang-up calls also stopped. I was traveling again weekly, closing deals for my firm. The month of October was booked solid so I could wrap up outstanding deals, avoiding travel during the holidays.
Donovan, the guy from the train, called the office looking for someone to represent his company. He had launched an entertainment business, helping untapped talent penetrate the marketplace. We made dinner plans at the Shark Bar, between Broadway and Amsterdam, to discuss the scope of the services he needed.
When I arrived, Donovan was running late. A glass of white wine marinated on my taste buds while I waited. Donovan arrived looking dapper as hell. Someone raised him right. He approached the table, leaned over to kiss me on the cheek, and took his seat.
“How was your day?” he asked.
“It was excellent, very productive,” I responded.
“Let’s get business out of the way, and then we can enjoy the remainder of our evening.”
“Sounds great.”
“Ideally, what we want to do is act as agents for performers, vocalists, and other entertainers across a wide spectrum of industries. We may have some in music or acting,” he said.
“Explain to me the details of what you’ll do. Are you going to find placement for them? Negotiate contracts? What will your services cover?”
“We would like to do all that. We want to utilize industry connections all of us have to make things happen for urban youth looking to break into their respective fields.”
“What role do you see my firm playing?”
“I’d like for your team to design our media kits. Essentially, we want a presence both on and offline.”
“About how many people do you intend to employ starting out, and what have you forecasted for budgets?”
“It’s pretty small starting out, but I’d like you to personally manage the project.”
We continued talking about the needs of his company. For the most part, I didn’t take on tiny projects like his. Recently, my firm had hired a few college students who wanted industry experience. This would be an excellent project for one of them to work on solo. I decided to hook Donovan up with my intern Elise despite his request to work directly with me.
“So, what’s new with you?” he asked.
“I’ve been providing free counseling to poverty-stricken families out in the Bronx. A friend of mine started a community program, hoping to improve the well-being of people in the projects.”
“Wow.” He was impressed with my affectionate attitude toward those less fortunate. “How often do you go out there?”
“Once a week right now. It’s very flexible.”
“That’s what I like about you. You are a talented sistah, always helping people out.”
“Thanks. I try.”
“You take transit out there?”
“Yeah. I usually leave directly from my office. It doesn’t make sense to go home, get my car, and drive back.”
“That’s true. Just be careful getting out late in the evening. I don’t want anyone chasing you.” He laughed, remembering the night we met.
“I’m always looking out. Plus, you got my back, right?” I said playfully.
“Always, beautiful,” he replied.
Just as we finished our dinner and I entered the cab, Jason, Troy’s friend called. “I’m going to Brooklyn, Park Slope,” I told the driver before taking the call.
“What’s up, Jason?”
“Troy’s playing you,” he said.
“Stop hatin’ on Troy,” I told him.
“Yo, I know you thought my ex-wife jumped on Dallas, but it was Troy’s girl who put her in the hospital after she caught him sneaking out her crib. He’s still fucking his baby mama and Dallas too.”
“Jason, you need to stop this shit. Troy and I are getting married, and we love each other. I can’t allow you to distort his image like that. I’m telling him what you said. Don’t call again.”
When I got home, the music was blaring. Troy was in the shower. I had had a long day, so I undressed and stepped inside with him.
“Hey, I didn’t hear you come in,” he said.
I kissed him seductively. “Of course you didn’t hear me loud as the stereo is.” I smiled. The things Jason told me still had me bent out of shape. Troy sensed my mood.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, running his fingers through my wet hair.
“Jason called me tonight.”
“What that nigga want?”
“He said Cynthia assaulted Dallas and that you were still fucking both of them.”
“Baby, don’t let that nigga fill your head with bullshit.”
“Is it true?”
“What?”
“Are you fucking Dallas?” I was ready to deal with the possibility that Troy and his baby mama were sleeping together, but I couldn’t imagine him being intimate with Dallas.
“No, it isn’t true. That nigga Jason never got over you. He was acting funny when I told him about our engagement. He’s just angry because his household fucked up. I love you, baby,” Troy said, kissing my breasts and massaging my clit with his middle finger.
Since the miscarriage, Troy and I hadn’t made love. He was being gentle with me. He sat on the edge of the bathtub, pressed me against the tile, and sweetly licked my pussy while warm water flowed over us, hiding my passionate tears.
• • •
I was looking for some pajamas when I noticed an envelope on the dresser addressed to me. I opened it. Inside was a beautiful thank-you card and airline tickets to Jamaica from Troy. I was ecstatic.
“Troy,” I called.
“What’s up?” he said, walking into the bedroom. “Oh, I see you found your present.”
“Yes, I did. I love you, too, baby.”
“I figured we could celebrate our engagement,” he replied. “The card was to thank you for standing by my side after all I’ve put you through.”
Troy fixed me some tea and brought the mini-spa into the bedroom. “What are you doing with that?” I asked.
“Giving you a pedicure,” he said. Troy proceeded to soak my feet in hot paraffin wax. He had read a book on reflexology and decided to test his skill on me. He stimulated all the zones before shaping and polishing my toenails.
Troy’s dick was hard when we climbed into bed. I convinced him that as long as he took it slow, he wouldn’t hurt me, and he did. My pussy was tighter than usual. I felt it expand to accommodate him and relaxed, allowing my fiancé to take what was his.
Chapter 16|
Kevin, my shrink, was in
New York on business. It was exceptional timing because I was due for a session. We arranged to meet in my office later in the day.
I was shocked when Janet, Khalil’s girlfriend, called.
“What’s up, Janet?” I inquired, not sure about the purpose of her call.
“Have you seen Khalil?” she asked.
“No.”
“Oh, I was hoping you’d help me figure something out. If you don’t mind my asking, when was the last time you saw him?”
“Well, I haven’t seen him since I moved to New York. I think the real question is why are you calling me?”
“Sorry to be so evasive. I remember meeting you briefly,” she said. “I know you and Khalil are close. I haven’t seen him, and I’m concerned.”
“Haven’t seen him since when?”
“It’s been four months.”
I’d spoken to Khalil since then, but I didn’t share that with Janet. He hadn’t mentioned to me they were having problems and implied they were settling down. “Did something happen?” I asked.
“Sort of,” she said.
“Janet, if you want me to help you, I need to know what’s up. Otherwise, we might as well end this discussion.”
“I don’t know if he told you, but we’re expecting.”
She paused briefly, waiting on a reaction of some sort from me. I didn’t have any.
“I was in the process of cleaning, had been washing clothes. I changed the bedding like I normally do, and found a used condom under the fitted sheet.”
“Umm, what?”
“Yeah, there was a used condom in our bed. It still contained some type of residue. We aren’t using condoms, Raquel.”
Her conversation had completely caught me off guard. Khalil was a nasty nigga when it came to freaky shit in the bedroom. I remember once when I was on my period, he tried fucking me, believing the myth that the flow would slow down during sex. Shit, not mine. It was a bloody mess. Instead, he licked my pussy in the shower, determined to get off that night.
“What are you saying, Janet? Khalil slept with someone in your bed?”