4. Kim #3
“You brought me flowers?” she laughed softly. Deuce started walking toward her, but then his eyes landed on me sitting in that chair and instantly his whole expression changed. The smile disappeared and his brows pulled together. It was confusion first then irritation and disbelief.
He stopped walking the look he gave me was what the fuck, I smirked. Alisha stood up smiling while taking the flowers from him completely unaware of the tension thickening between us.
“They so pretty,” she said before kissing him softly.
Watching that in person made me jealous and pissed off because he never hesitated loving her out loud.
Never hesitated claiming her publicly. Meanwhile I got hidden penthouses and secret late nights.
Deuce looked at me again hard this time.
You could tell he was trying to figure out what game I was playing.
I leaned back comfortably in the chair and smirked just enough for him to notice.
“Babe, this is my client Kim,” Alisha said casually. Deuce cleared his throat before forcing himself to play along. “Nice to meet you,” he said carefully.
Liar! “You too,” I replied sweetly while holding his stare a little too long. You could see the panic sitting behind his eyes because for once he wasn’t in control of the situation.
“Y’all both acting like y’all know each other,” Alisha joked with a small laugh.
If only she knew Deuce moved behind her, resting one hand lightly against her waist while she kept working on my nails.
The intimacy irritated me badly, not because I didn’t know he loved her.
I knew that already but seeing it up close while he ignored me all morning made me want to slap his ass.
He needed to stop fucking playing with my feelings like I wasn’t attached to him too.
“Deuce,” Alisha said suddenly. “Can you grab Brittany from daycare later?”
“Yeah,” he answered without taking his eyes off me.
He stepped right into husband and father mode while standing in front of me made me feel like I would always come second to this bitch.
That’s why I wanted to have his baby so that Alisha and I could be equal.
No matter what existed between us or how many times he told me he loved me I was still standing outside a life he refused to fully let me into, and I was getting really tired of standing outside looking in.
By the time I left the nail shop, my mood was already ruined.
The fresh air hit my face the second I stepped out.
Seeing Deuce standing there playing perfect husband after ignoring me all night irritated me in ways I couldn’t even explain.
I slid my sunglasses back on and walked toward my car slowly, heels clicking against the sidewalk while Detroit moved around me loud and restless.
The city always felt alive no matter what time of day it was.
Gray clouds hung low over downtown while traffic crawled through the streets, buildings towering around me covered in murals and old brickwork.
Detroit had a rough beauty to it, wounded but still standing kind of like me honestly.
The second I got inside my car, my phone rang through the Bluetooth, it was Mama calling. I exhaled softly before answering. “Hey Ma.”
“What you doing?” Regina asked immediately. I smiled a little despite the fucked up mood I was in. My mother always sounded warm and comforting.
“Just leaving, getting my nails done.”
“You busy?” She asked.
“Not really.”
“Well meet me at Olive Garden then,” she said. “I ain’t seen my child in forever.”
I laughed softly while pulling out into traffic. “It ain’t been forever.”
“Kimberly.” That tone right there told me she wasn’t playing.
“Aight,” I replied. “I’m on my way.”
The drive to Olive Garden took longer than usual because traffic was horrible.
I tapped my nails against the steering wheel while creeping down Woodward behind a line of cars.
Detroit looked gloomy that afternoon rainwater still sat in potholes from earlier while people hurried down sidewalks wrapped in hoodies and jackets.
Street vendors posted near intersections. Old buildings were mixed with new luxury apartments like the city couldn’t decide what version of itself it wanted to be. That’s exactly how my life felt lately. My phone rang again through the speakers and this time it was Deuce.
I sucked my teeth before answering. “What?” I snapped.
“The fuck was that about?” he barked immediately.
No hello, no explanation for ignoring me. Just a fucked up ass attitude. “Oh, now you wanna call?”
“You think that shit funny?” he asked. “Pulling up to my wife’s shop?” There it was again it was always about Alisha. At this point fuck his wife.
“I called you all night,” I shot back. “You ignored me.”
“That don’t mean you go pulling stunts like that.”
“Stunts?” I repeated. “I wanted my nails done.”
“You knew exactly what the fuck you were doing.” Maybe I did, maybe I wanted him uncomfortable for once. I wanted him to feel pressured instead of me carrying all the emotional weight in this situation by myself.
“One thing I don’t play about is my wife,” Deuce spat.
“Oh, now you care enough to call when it’s about your precious wife,” I snapped. “Interesting.”
“You listening to me?” He asked. “And were you listening to me when I kept calling your phone?”
“Where you going?” he asked finally.
I laughed. “None of your damn business.”
“Kim…”
“Nah,” I cut him off. “Go worry about Alisha.” Then I hung up and tossed my phone into the passenger seat and gripped the steering wheel tighter.
I was tired of fighting for attention and watching him play family man while I sat around waiting for scraps of affection whenever it fit into his schedule.
By the time I pulled into Olive Garden parking lot, my irritation settled down a little.
I spotted my mother’s silver Lexus near the front and parked beside it before checking myself in the mirror quickly.
The smell of breadsticks and pasta hit me the second I walked inside.
Warm lighting filled the restaurant while soft music played overhead.
Families sat at tables talking loudly while servers rushed around balancing trays.
My mother sat near the front. She smiled immediately when she saw me. “There goes my long-lost daughter.”
I smiled trying to hide my fucked up attitude I leaned down to hug her tightly. “You're so dramatic,” I said.
“And your hard to catch up with,” she shot back while squeezing me.
My mother was beautiful in that effortless grown woman kind of way. She was light brown skin, short curly hair with brown eyes and she always dressed classy.
“You look tired,” she said once we sat down.
I rolled my eyes. “Can I at least sit down first before you start?”
She laughed softly. “I’m just saying.”
The waitress came over and we ordered drinks first. Peach bellini for me and sweet tea for her. Then we ordered food. I got chicken alfredo with extra chicken and salad. Mama ordered lasagna and soup with endless breadsticks. That woman loved Olive Garden like it was fine dining.
“So,” she said once the waitress walked off. “How you been?”
“I’m good.” I lied.
“Mhm.”
“What?”
“You say ‘I’m good’ every time when you’re not actually good.”
I sighed softly and leaned back against the booth. “I’m fine, Ma.”
Her eyes studied me carefully for a second before she spoke again. “You still dealing with that man?”
“Yes,” I answered.
Mama shook her head slowly.
“I don’t like this situation, Kim.”
“Here we go.”
“No seriously,” she continued. “Ever since those miscarriages, you been losing yourself.”
“I’m not losing myself.”
“You are though.”
I looked away toward the window briefly while she kept talking.
“You look drained all the time, emotionally stressed.”
“Life happens.”
“No,” she said softly. “Men happen.”
“Deuce has been there for me,” I defended quickly.
“Has he?”
“Yes.”
Mama raised a brow. “Then where he at?”
I opened my mouth then closed it again. Because I didn’t feel like explaining anything. Especially not to somebody already judging the relationship. “He works a lot,” I mumbled.
“That man should’ve been wrapped around you after them miscarriages.”
“He was.” I replied.
“Not enough.”
The waitress brought our food before I could respond. The smell alone made me realize I was actually hungry. Steam rose from the plates while Mama immediately grabbed a breadstick.
“You better eat,” she said. “You too skinny.”
I frowned. “I’m not skinny.”
“To me you are.” She replied.
For a little while, conversation stayed lighter about work and family gossip. My cousin got engaged and her wedding was coming up soon. I needed that break mentally; I needed something normal for a second. “You still working at the hospital?” Mama asked.
“Part-time.”
“You should focus on that more.”
I frowned slightly. “What that supposed to mean?”
“It means you worked hard for your degree.”
I graduated from Howard with a nursing degree. I worked my ass off too. Long nights studying, I had plans for myself once. I wasn’t supposed to become some emotionally confused woman sitting around waiting on a man to pick me.
“I am focused,” I lied.
Mama gave me a look that said she didn’t believe me at all. “You’re too smart to make your whole life about somebody else.”
I stabbed my fork into my pasta harder than necessary. “You making it sound worse than what it is.”
“I’m making it sound exactly how it look.”
That irritated me because the audacity of this woman acting like she never lost herself over a man. I grew up watching her revolve around my father cooking and cleaning. Holding the family together while my father stayed buried in work. The difference was mama wanted to be that woman I didn’t.