by Deja King
Before I could respond, Leon strolled in; he was wearing his oversized Sean John sweatsuit. He glared at me, then at Melanie, then back at me. He immediately sensed the vibe was off and rushed Melanie out of the room. But he was too late. The damage was done. I didn’t need for her to tell me anything else. I knew! I knew. I didn’t have the details yet, but I knew that the double life that I feared Brian had, was a reality. My mind was spinning. I couldn’t believe the lousy sonofabitch had played me like a fool for all this time.
I stormed out of the lounge and went into the studio where Brian was working and spewed out, “You are dead to me. This relationship is over, and I don’t ever want to see your lying face again.”
He had the audacity to keep a straight face. “What are you huffing about? You need to stop bugging out over bullshit.” When I surveyed his face, his eyes were empty and cold. With his right hand he kept stroking his throat as though contemplating his next lie. Then he said, “What the fuck is wrong with you, Tyler, and why are you acting like this?” But he knew exactly what I was talking about.
“You’re a sick fuck, and I hope you burn in hell forever for each despicable lie you fed me. If I don’t ever see your face again, it will still be too soon.”
Brian glared at me as if he felt torture and agonizing pain. Within an instant, he lifted me up by my white Luca Luca leather jacket and slammed me through the door and then up against the wall. My whole body buckled under the pressure.
He was such a little guy, and I couldn’t believe he had such strength. Leon ran into the hallway to get Brian off me, but Brian reached around Leon and punched me dead in my face. People started running out of the other studios, wondering what the commotion was about. Brian was ripping plaques off the walls and throwing them on the floor. He screamed, “How the fuck can you treat me like this? I take care of you. You are supposed to be my woman. This is how you repay me?”
I was in shock, upset, and torn all at the same time. Here was the demise of our relationship unfolding at the Hit Factory, with strangers being privy to our dirty laundry. Brian had done a lot of things for me, but put his hands on me wasn’t one of them. He had never raised a finger to me. Never! We had had disagreements but he had always remained so calm. I had never seen anything in his character to point toward such a violent temper. But then again, I guess I really didn’t know this man at all.
After Brian was finally restrained, I was so overwhelmed that I ran out of the building in tears. Melanie followed me outside to get a taxi and said, “I’ll call you tomorrow so we can finish our conversation.” I reached in my purse and quickly wrote down my number. Leon was lurking in the back, and I didn’t want him to have a clue as to what we were discussing. I went home feeling dazed and confused. I sat on my bed scrutinizing the bruises on the side of my stomach. My eye was swollen, and my leg was also bruised because Brian kicked me while I was on the floor. That’s what they do. They kick you while you’re down.
Early the next morning the phone rang and jarred me from my sleep. It was Melanie. It was the call that would start to answer so many questions. The soap opera news began rolling out before I could digest it.
“Tyler, I was in Chicago with Leon a few weeks ago, and the day we were leaving the hotel he asked me to check out. I went to the front desk and they handed me the bill, and I asked for the phone records too, which they were more than happy to provide. I gave Leon the hotel bill and put the phone records in my purse. When I got home I started calling the numbers, trying to find the number to his crib so I could blast his baby mother. One particular Jersey number appeared in the records several times, and when I called, some chick named Beverly answered the phone. I said my boyfriend was in the music industry and this number had shown up several times on my cell phone bill and I wanted to make sure he wasn’t calling the next chick on my phone. She tried to ease my paranoia by explaining that she was Brian’s girlfriend and the mother of his child. She said my boyfriend was probably calling to speak to him.”
My mouth dropped, and I believe for a brief second my heart stopped, if that’s possible. The room started spinning and I felt like I was in the twilight zone. I had to sit down because my knees became weak and my stomach was nauseated. I wasn’t ready for this. I was still in shock over the fact that Brian had jumped on me, and now Melanie was telling me he had a readymade family. All this triggered so many mixed emotions. In most of my prior relationships the man was abusive, and because I had serious issues within myself, it made me feel closer to the man when he put his hands on me. My excitement-free relationship with Brian had now taken on a life of its own. I discovered there was a dark and dangerous side of him, and at the same time I got the devastating news that someone I thought was my man really wasn’t. He was somebody else’s man and they had a child together.
Melanie gave me Beverly’s number, and I called her to get the scooby doo. After the second ring a woman’s voice said, “Hello.”
“Hi, can I speak to Beverly?”
“Who’s calling?” the woman asked, sounding apprehensive.
“This is Tyler Blake.”
The woman paused. “I’m sorry, you have the wrong number,” the woman said abruptly. But I knew I didn’t have the wrong number, and I knew it was Beverly on the other end. I said my name again, but this time I asked to speak to Brian and she put him on the phone.
Without hesitation, I told him I knew all about his lies and his other life. Of course, he acted like I didn’t know what I was talking about and said we needed to talk. When he hung up, my mind was clogged over the whole situation but I still wanted to hear his side. I tried to absorb all this new information about his other life and replay what I learned over and over. It hadn’t dawned on me that my heart was shattered and I was truly crushed.
Brian didn’t call me that day or night, because that is what a lot of men do. They play mind games with you. They first try to figure out what you know and believe to be the truth so they can then contradict you with more thought-out lies. They plot and scheme and get all their lies together before they even have a conversation with you. Then they keep you waiting so your anxiety builds up, and by the time you do talk, you don’t know what to believe yourself. That’s how fucked-up they have your head. I call it the Jedi mind trick, and honey, once they master it, they are not to be fucked with.
Thank goodness I had Girl Power PR, because although I was drained and feeling miserable, it gave me a reason to get out of bed and put on my clothes. I had so many emotions I was trying to sort out. I felt betrayed, used, and lied to, felt that I had wasted over a year of my life. While I was sitting at my desk, the phone rang. It was Brian; he wanted to come over that night to talk. I told him that was fine. When I hung up, I put my head on the desk and hoped that I would open my eyes and find this was all a bad nightmare. But this wasn’t a fantasy script I wrote to spice up my life. This was my reality. This was me once again having to accept that the world isn’t so pink.
Later on that evening, Brian came over, and the first words out of his mouth were, “Please forgive me for hitting you. I never meant to put my hands on you, Tyler.” After looking at my bruises his eyes filled with tears, and in a sorrowful voice he said, “I’m sorry for hurting you this way. I felt overwhelmed when you said you wanted to leave me, and the built-up anxiety from keeping my lies bottled up was weighing heavy on my mind and heart.”
(Readers, do you see how men can turn their web of deceit around so that suddenly they are the victim? You can be walking around with a broken arm and a busted lip, but it’s all your fault. For all you women who are just realizing this crap for the first time, don’t worry about it. You see what kind of drama I had to endure to finally get it.)
I wasn’t interested in Brian’s words of sorrow.
“Brian, who is Beverly?” I asked harshly.
“She’s an ex-girlfriend.”
“That you have a baby with? How old is the baby?”
“A few months,” he said coyly.
“So you were having sex with her while we were together?”
“In the beginning when you and I were having problems, I started seeing her off and on and she got pregnant. Once she told me she was pregnant, I never slept with her again.”
“There was no need. The seed was already planted. Were you ever going to tell me you had a baby, or were you going to keep me in the dark?”
“I knew I had to tell you eventually, but I could never find the right time or the right words. I didn’t want to lose you and I still don’t. I’m not with her anymore, Tyler, I swear.”
“Then why is she living at your house, the house you claimed you didn’t have?”
“Beverly doesn’t live there. She lives in Brooklyn. I got the place in Jersey when her due date neared. I couldn’t live in Greg’s house with a baby. She is only staying there temporarily so I can be near my daughter, and so I can help her out.” When he said “daughter,” I felt a lump in my throat because the child should have been our daughter.
“How long is she staying with you, Brian?”
“I’m not sure, but it doesn’t matter, because I’m not in a relationship with her. I’m with you and she knows that. Tyler, all I’m asking is that you give me some time. I want to be a father to my daughter, and that means having a cordial relationship with her mother.”
“Are you sleeping with her?”
“No, I swear I haven’t had sex with her in months. I have no desire to sleep with her. Tyler, I made a mistake, and when I tell you my heart belongs to you, that is the truth.”
He told me more half-truths. I had given this man my soul and although I knew I should have left him and never looked back, the other part of me wanted to make him pay. I began the process of collecting on my debt, and at the same time I tried to pull it together mentally in order to handle the cards I had been dealt. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but under the circumstances it was my only option. I took Brian back that night. Why, you ask? Because every man I had been with had stomped on my heart and then left me alone. Well, not this time. And since Brian was the one who broke my heart, it was only fair he put it back together.
Picking Up the Pieces
I was moving to Jersey. The first thing Brian was going to pay for was my rent. I liked Brooklyn, but I wanted trees, flowers, and grass. And Brian was going to give it to me.
“I can’t believe I’m in Brooklyn, but I have to admit I’m somewhat impressed. It’s very cute and hip over here. I was expecting derelicts on every block,” Chrissie said. I rolled my eyes and continued packing up my belongings.
“Chrissie, would you please make yourself helpful and tape up the boxes? The moving company will be here shortly.”
“Well, why don’t you have them tape up the boxes?”
“Chrissie, I remember when we first met, you were so sweet and down-to-earth. Hanging out with all those celebrities has made you so New York snooty. Take it down a notch. It’s not that serious.”
“All right, all right. Where’s the tape?” Chrissie asked, annoyed although she knew I was right. Chrissie located the tape on the kitchen counter and continued sizing up my apartment. “I still don’t understand why you’re not moving back to the city. With the high rent you’re paying—I mean Brian will be paying— you can get a beautiful place in the city instead of Jersey.”
“Unlike you, I don’t want my stomping ground to be my sleeping ground. I’m not up to being bothered with the hustle and bustle of the city. I need peace and quiet. I can’t get that in the city.”
“I don’t agree with your logic, but I understand. I’m just happy you’re moving out of this dump. Brooklyn isn’t as bad as I thought, but you’re so above this place. It’s about time Brian put you in the lifestyle you’re accustomed to, even if you had to catch him with his pants down to get it. I knew you were making a grave mistake when you stripped away your beliefs in order to prove you were worthy. It never works. Men don’t appreciate that sort of sacrifice,” Chrissie preached.
“I can’t believe this is coming from you, Chrissie. You’re the same woman who called me jaded for my views on men and relationships. I remember when you were sleeping with some real estate tycoon and were ecstatic when he bought you a pair of nine-hundred-dollar Jimmy Choo boots. I made the comment, “What, you fucking for boots now? Is that all you’re getting out of the deal?” And you blasted me. Now you’re telling me that trying to be independent in order to gain the respect of a man is overrated.”
“Yeah, that’s the long and the short of it. You were right, Tyler. Men don’t think any more of you for trying to be superwoman or for pleasing them by giving in to their every need. If anything, you’ll end up tired and old-looking from working so hard to please them, and they’ll be luxuriating with the chick who was smart enough to put her energy into maintaining herself.”
When the door buzzed and I let the moving people in, Chrissie’s words were still weighing heavily on my mind. Is that where I went wrong with Brian? I let all the guilt of my past relationships dictate the direction I went in ours, not feeling worthy of the gifts and money men so freely gave me in the past, even though they had done so in order to control me and have me obligated to them. Or maybe I so desperately wanted to belong that I sold myself cheaply for momentary doses of love. Whatever my reasoning, I was more confused than ever.
I stepped onto my balcony with Ella, and we basked at the beautiful view of the city. I was living in a loft apartment located on the Hudson River.
“Tyler, this place is gorgeous. Brian really went all out.”
“Yeah, it is pretty great.”
“You don’t seem as excited as I thought you would be. This place is amazing, nothing like your apartment in Brooklyn.”
“I liked Brooklyn.”
“So do I, but I love this place. It was so nice of Brian to do this for you. He really must love you, Tyler.”
“It’s not quite that simple,” I said, knowing that Ella needed to hear the truth.
“What happened, Tyler?” she asked, seeing the distressed look on my face.
“Ella, Brian has been lying to me. He got another woman pregnant, and she’s living with him. He says it’s just temporary, but I don’t believe his story. He also turned out not to be the gentle lamb I once described to you. When I confronted him about his deception, he jumped on me.”
Ella sat down on the patio furniture taking it all in. She shook her head. “Tyler, when is this going to stop? Brian is a cheat and an abuser, just like almost every other man you’ve been with. This has to end. Why are you even here living in this place? You should be back in Brooklyn beginning your life without Brian in it.”
“I know, but I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?”
“Because as much as I hate him for what he’s done to me and as much I’m determined to make him pay for what he’s done, I… also love him.” There the sad truth that has been lurking beneath my anger. I put my head in my hands. “I keep wondering what is wrong with me that men continue to mistreat me and not give me the love that I crave.”
“I blame Mother for this. Since you were a little girl, all you’ve seen is men using physical violence to express their feelings in a relationship. And whether or not you want to admit it, I know you’ve never gotten over having our real father ripped from our lives. You were always closer to him than me, and it seems all your life you’ve been trying to fill the void he left. But a man can’t do that, Tyler.”
“I know, but until I wake up and say enough is enough, being in another crazy relationship is the only thing that brings me some sort of validation that I’m wanted.”
“Tyler, you are wanted; you just don’t know it yet,” Ella said as she hugged me.
After Ella left, I stayed on the balcony and stared out at the Empire State Building. My mind replayed the heartache that brought me here. I was so full of anger. Actually I was beyond angry. I was at the boiling point. I tried to medicate the anger by digging my h
ands farther and farther into Brian’s pocket. While I was spending his money, did it make me feel any better? As a matter of fact, it did.
One night I went to meet Brian at his office (he was now the president at a major label) because we were going out to dinner. It was rather chilly and I decided that I wanted a new coat. A little coat wouldn’t hurt his pockets. We were walking down Fifth Avenue, when I saw a beautiful coat in the Fendi window. Of course I dragged Brian in the store. I tried on several other coats, but my heart was set on the one in the window. Not bothering to look at the price tag, I had already made up my mind that I was getting that coat.
“Excuse me,” I said to the saleswoman. “Could you please get that coat in the window for me? I don’t see it in the store.”
“Why, of course.” She grinned as if she had dollar signs in her eyes.
I tried on the camel-colored coat and viewed myself in the mirror.
“You look stunning,” the saleswoman said. “That is a limited edition. There are only twenty like it in the world.”
“I’ll take it,” I said, not bothering to ask the price. Brian and I walked over to the sales counter, and I lingered on the side waiting for him to pay. He pulled out his newly issued black American Express card and nearly fell to the floor when he realized the price.
“Twenty thousand dollars? Are you crazy? You can put that shit back!” Brian paused and looked at me before he said, “I don’t have a twenty-thousand-dollar coat. I don’t even have a five-thousand-dollar coat.”
His words had no substance because I had already decided that I was leaving with that coat. “Darling, I don’t care if you don’t have a twenty-thousand-dollar coat. I don’t care if you don’t have a hundred-dollar coat. Hell, I don’t care if you don’t have a coat at all because this isn’t about you. I want that coat and I deserve that coat,” I said in a sweet saturated bitchy tone.
As Brian reluctantly handed his card over to the saleswoman, I put my old coat in the bag, threw on my new money coat, and sashayed out of the store saying, “Mother would be proud of her princess.” Some people say money can’t buy you happiness, but it can sure make you look damn good while you are disintegrating in misery.