4. Kim #2
“You can’t keep doing this to me,” I snapped. He turned around slowly. “Doing what?”
“Leaving.” His brows pulled together. “Kim…”
“No,” I cut him off. “You get to walk away every single time while I sit here alone bleeding and grieving.”
He set the glass down immediately. “You know I ain’t no fucked up ass individual I’m here for you.”
“But not really,” I snapped. “Not completely.”
He stared at me carefully while I paced the kitchen trying to keep myself together.
“You have a whole family waiting on you every night,” I continued. “A daughter and a wife. Meanwhile I’m over here losing babies by myself.”
“You not by yourself.” He replied.
“That’s easy for you to say when you still got everything.”
“You knew what this was from the beginning. You knew I wasn’t leaving my wife.”
“And you knew I loved you.”
“You think this shit is easy for me?” he asked finally.
“At least you get to go home to something.”
I was tired of carrying all the pain while he kept balancing both lives like some damn magician. “I can’t keep losing pieces of myself for a man who still treats me like I’m temporary,” I said.
“You not temporary.”
“Then prove it.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“How?”
“You give me a baby,” I said quietly.
His expression shifted instantly. “We been trying.”
“No,” I replied. “You can make this happen.”
“Kim…”
“I’m serious.”
He rubbed his jaw slowly, already irritated. “You in your feelings right now.”
That pissed me off. “Of course I’m in my fucking feelings!” I shouted. “I keep losing your children while you go home playing husband!”
“I never asked you to compete with my wife.”
“But I am,” I snapped. “Every single day.”
The room went silent after that just both of us breathing hard could be heard. Everything between us finally exposed for what it really was; a damn mess.
“You not leaving Alisha,” I said quietly after a minute. He didn’t answer, he didn't have to because I already knew the truth. “Fine,” I continued. “Then give me something permanent.”
“We’ll keep trying.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m done trying.”
He frowned slightly. “What that mean?”
“If you don’t give me a baby,” I said slowly, “I’ll tell my father everything.”
Deuce went completely still, no expression, nothing. “How the fuck am I supposed to give you a baby if your fucking infertile?” He yelled.
“I don’t know… have somebody carry one for us. People do it all the time.” I replied.
“You mean like a surrogate or some shit?” He asked.
“Exactly.” I said.
“Man, what the fuck? You been watching too many of those damn reality shows. What black person you know that would do some shit like that.” Deuce spat, getting irritated.
“What else is there to do? I've done my research and they could use my eggs and your sperm. So technically it would be our baby, just someone else carrying it.”
“Man, you really done lost your damn mind. I’m not about to do no shit like that wit no random ass person and that shit cost ninety to 100,000 dollars to have that procedure done.
“Deuce it ain’t like you don’t got it. Look at all the shit I done been through. You owe me and why don’t you just have your sister do it. That way you know who the person is.” I replied matter of factly.
“Now you really sound fucking crazy you think my sister gone do some shit like that when her and Alisha is best fucking friends.”
“If she wants to keep her big brother out of the Federal prison she would! Her loyalty ain’t to Alisha it’s to you.”
“You threatening me?” he spat. I swallowed hard but stood my ground anyway.
“I’m tired of hurting alone.”
“That ain’t an answer.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “Maybe I am.”
His jaw flexed slowly while he stared at me.
“You’d destroy me like that?”
Tears burned behind my eyes instantly. “I’m already being destroyed.”
Another long silence stretched between us before he finally looked away and for the first time since I met him Deuce looked trapped.
That was the night we came up with the surrogate plan.
Even though part of me hated myself for forcing things to that point another part of me didn’t give a fuck anymore.
I was done grieving babies in silence while another woman lived the life I wanted. By the next morning, I was already irritated. I had the kind of irritation that sat heavy in your chest and got worse every time you checked your phone and saw nothing. No call, no text, nothing from Deuce.
I stood underneath the hot water in the penthouse shower letting it run down my skin while steam filled the glass walls around me.
Usually, showers relaxed me but that morning my mind wouldn’t slow down.
All I could think about was the fact that Deuce ignored me all night after everything we talked about.
After everything I sacrificed for him. I tilted my head back under the water, closing my eyes briefly while irritation crawled deeper into my chest.
I already knew what he was doing whenever things got complicated between us, he disappeared into husband mode. Loving me became something he had to put on pause whenever Alisha needed attention, and I was getting tired of that shit.
I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself before walking back into the bedroom. My phone sat on the nightstand, still no response. I grabbed it immediately and called him again anyway it went straight to voicemail.
“You got me fucked up,” I mumbled under my breath before ending the call. That man always answered for me even if he was busy. For him to suddenly go silent after the surrogate talk pissed me off because that meant he thought I was playing with his ass. I wasn’t letting shit slide no more.
I dropped the towel and started getting dressed while my thoughts kept spinning. I decided to throw on some fitted jeans with a cream-colored cropped top and gold hoops. By the time I finished getting ready, irritation had already turned into pettiness.
Once I got petty, logic usually stopped mattering.
I grabbed my phone and opened Instagram before typing Alisha’s name into the search bar.
I’d been on her page before more than once.
Not because I was obsessed with her. I just wanted to understand what made Deuce hold onto her so tightly and what made her so different from me.
Her page had perfect little family pictures. Videos of Brittany laughing with cute captions, and pictures of her nail designs.
I rolled my eyes while scrolling then I noticed the nail shop page tagged in one of her posts. My thumb paused against the screen. A slow smile spread across my lips. If Deuce wanted to ignore me like I didn’t matter after everything I gave him then fine. I’d remind him exactly who the fuck I was.
An hour later, I pulled up outside the nail shop.
The building sat on a busy street lined with little boutiques and restaurants.
I stepped out of the car slowly, sunglasses covering my eyes while I glanced through the front windows.
Women were packed inside laughing and talking over music.
The second I opened the door, the smell of acrylic, perfume, and hair products wrapped around me instantly.
The whole place looked polished. Pink and white decor with gold accents everywhere.
Neon signs hung against the walls. Clean stations lined up perfectly.
I could tell Alisha took pride in this place.
A few women looked up when I walked in. I was used to attention.
Some people stared because they thought I was pretty.
Others stared because they sensed trouble.
“Hey boo, welcome,” one of the nail techs greeted from the front desk. “You got an appointment?”
“I was hoping Alisha could squeeze me in,” I replied smoothly. The girl looked toward the back before nodding.
“She is finishing up now. Alisha, you got a walk in she yelled toward the back.”
Alisha looked up. “I’ll be with you in a moment; you can have a seat in the waiting area.” She replied.
I smiled politely while my eyes moved around the shop and then I saw Alisha.
She sat near the back doing a client’s nails while talking casually to another nail tech beside her.
I studied her quietly for a second. She was taller than I expected, probably around five-nine and she was thick too.
She had honey brown skin glowing underneath the lights with long dark hair falling down her back in loose curls. She had a pretty face and smile.
She was the kind of woman men proudly took home to their mothers. Looking at her I could see why Deuce married her. Yeah, she was beautiful, but she wasn’t me. She didn’t walk into rooms the way I did. That irritated me even more because despite all of that she still came first.
I looked up to see Alisha walking toward me with a polite smile. “Hey there you can follow me.” She let me know before walking back to her station.
“Hey I’m Kim,” I replied smoothly.
Her eyes moved over me briefly before she gestured toward an empty chair. “You can sit right here.”
I slid into the chair slowly, crossing one leg over the other while she started setting up. I sat there wondering if she could feel the disrespect floating around us right now. Because I was sleeping with her husband and she had absolutely no idea.
“What you getting?” she asked casually.
“French tips.”
She nodded before reaching for my hand. “You been here before?”
“No,” I replied. “But I heard you do good work.”
She smiled softly. “Well hopefully I don’t disappoint.”
My phone buzzed against my thigh. I glanced down quickly and still nothing from Deuce. I sucked my teeth softly before locking the screen again. The front door opened right then, and I looked up and there Deuce was standing in the doorway in a black T-shirt and dark jeans with flowers in his hand.
Something ugly twisted inside me, because once again Alisha came first. The second she looked up and smiled at him; the entire room shifted for me.