4. Kim #4
I never dreamed about being somebody’s stay-at-home wife.
I wanted my own career and my own accomplishments.
My own identity outside of a relationship.
Somewhere along the line though I started shrinking myself emotionally trying to fit into Deuce’s complicated life, and maybe Mama saw that before I did.
By the time lunch ended, both of us looked more relaxed.
Mama reached across the table and squeezed my hand gently. “I just want you happy,” she said quietly.
“I know.”
“And I want my daughter back.”
That sat with me for a second because underneath all the criticism she really was worried. “I’ll come by more,” I promised while standing up.
“You better.”
I leaned down and hugged her tightly before grabbing my purse. “I love you.”
“Love you too, baby.”
Mama’s words kept replaying in my head while I drove through Detroit traffic.
Part of me hated how right she sounded, but another part of me felt defensive too.
Because she didn’t know everything and didn’t understand how deep things had gotten between me and Deuce.
Instead of heading toward the penthouse, I drove to my own house.
A quiet modern spot on the west side with floor-to-ceiling windows and dark stone detailing.
I needed space and distance from everything.
The second I walked inside though, I froze.
Deuce sat on my couch waiting with his elbows resting against his knees while anger sat heavy across his face.
“Seriously?” I muttered under my breath.
Then it hit me that he had my location.
“Damn,” I cursed quietly. I forgot to turn that shit off. Deuce stood up slowly the second our eyes met.
“You done playing these childish ass games?” he asked coldly.
I tossed my purse onto the counter.
“You really tracked me here?”
“You really pulled that bullshit today?”
“You were ignoring me.”
“You knew exactly what you was doing walking into her shop.”
“And you knew exactly what you was doing ignoring me.”
“That don’t give you the right to play with my marriage.”
I stepped closer, irritation boiling all over again. “Your marriage?” I repeated. “You should’ve thought about that before you started sleeping with me.”
“I’m serious, Kim,” he spat. “I don’t play about Alisha.”
There he was again protecting her first. And hearing it one more time after everything I sacrificed for him? That pushed me right back into anger. “I don’t give a fuck about Alisha.”
The words came out cold and fucked up but I didn’t give a fuck. Deuce stared at me from across the living room with that look on his face like he was trying real hard not to snap. “You need to calm the fuck down,” he yelled.
“Calm down?” I repeated. “You got a lot of fucking nerve telling me that.”
He dragged his hand over his beard slowly already looking irritated. “You pulling up to her shop was foul as fuck.”
“There goes that protecting her first shit again,” I shot back.
“That’s my fucking wife.”
No matter how deep things got between me and him Alisha would always come first publicly.
“Well, I’m technically your baby mama too,” I snapped.
His eyes locked onto mine, jaw tightening slowly.
“You not pregnant right now,” he said carefully.
I blinked at him for a second like maybe I heard him wrong, that shit hurt.
“Wow,” I said while shaking my head slowly. “That’s where we at now?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But it’s what came out your mouth.” I folded my arms tighter across my chest because suddenly I felt stupid standing there and embarrassed.
“I carried your children,” I said quieter this time. “Three of them.”
Deuce looked away briefly before sighing. “I know Kim damn, but the shit you doing is uncalled for.”
“No, you don’t,” I snapped immediately. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t keep talking to me like I’m just some inconvenience.”
He rubbed the back of his neck looking frustrated now. “You letting your feelings take over.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” he replied bluntly. “You moving off emotion right now and that ain’t a good look.”
“Oh okay,” I laughed bitterly. “So now I’m crazy because I care?”
“I didn’t say you crazy.”
“But that’s what you implying.”
“You showing up around my wife trying to get reactions out of me.”
“Because you ignored me!”
“That don’t mean go do no dumb shit like that!”
My chest tightened hard enough to make breathing feel weird for a second. Because somehow every time I reacted to pain, he caused he found a way to make me look like the problem.
“You know what kills me?” I asked while pacing away from him. “You act like I forced my way into your life.”
“I never said that. But technically you did you and your punk ass daddy was looking for information so he could lock my black ass up.”
“But you keep talking to me like I’m some random woman who got attached on her own. You act like you don’t love me.”
“I love you,” I admitted.
Deuce looked at me before sighing heavily. “I know you love me, maybe you love me too much.”
That was it, no softness, no reassurance, just those fucked up ass words. How the hell do you tell somebody they love you too much?
“I’m tired of feeling hidden,” I whispered.
“You knew the situation from the start.”
“And you knew I loved you from the start too.”
His jaw flexed again.
I stepped closer slowly.
“You got me carrying grief by myself while you keep running back to play house.”
“I’m not abandoning you.”
“But you not standing beside me either. I hated how tired he looked. Because part of me wanted him angry and emotional. I wanted proof that losing me scared him too. Instead, he looked exhausted. Like all of this had become another problem he needed to manage.
“You getting wrapped up too deep mentally,” he said finally. “That shop stunt today proved that.”
“You worried about the wrong thing.”
“No, I’m worried about you fucking up my marriage.”
“Maybe because I’m tired of being kept in a box! You think this is easy for me?” I continued. “Watching you leave every night? Watching you play husband and daddy while I sit around mourning babies we made together?”
Deuce closed his eyes briefly before looking back at me. “You knew I wasn’t leaving my wife.”
He was right, he never promised me marriage. Never sold me dreams. The problem was feelings changed the rules. “And you knew I wasn’t built for this halfway shit forever,” I replied.
He exhaled hard through his nose before grabbing his keys off the counter. “I can’t do this tonight.”
Whenever conversations got too real, Deuce shut down emotionally and tried to leave.
“No,” I snapped. “You don’t get to walk out every time I say something you don’t like.”
“I’m not arguing with you while you talking crazy.”
My face twisted instantly. “Talking crazy?”
“Yes,” he replied calmly. “You all over the place right now.”
I stared at him in complete disbelief. Because how dare he stand there acting nonchalant after creating this entire mess? How dare he reduce years of emotional damage into me “talking crazy”?
“You know what?” I laughed bitterly. “Fuck you.”
“Kim…”
“No,” I cut him off. “You got me losing pieces of myself while you keep protecting everybody else first.”
“That’s my family.”
“And what am I?”
His mouth opened slightly before closing again. Because there wasn’t a good answer, not one that wouldn’t expose exactly how uneven this whole situation really was. I blinked hard when tears started burning behind my eyes. I hated crying in front of him and looking weak.
“You should leave,” I let him know.
“Kim.”
“I said get the fuck out!”
He stared at me before finally heading toward the door. He looked disappointed in me. Like somehow, I was the difficult one in all this. “You need to get your shit together and go to counseling,” he said before opening the door. “This ain’t healthy.”
I laughed through my tears. “But cheating on your wife and getting your side woman emotionally invested while your sister carries your baby is somehow healthy?”
His jaw tightened instantly.
“You proving my point.”
Then he walked out, the second the door slammed shut behind him, something inside me cracked completely.
I grabbed the candle sitting on the coffee table and launched it across the room.
Glass exploded against the wall. Whatever my hands touched first I threw not giving a damn if it broke.
Suddenly I couldn’t hold none of it inside anymore, the humiliation, the jealousy, the grief and the anger all of it came rushing out at once.
“How dare you!” I screamed into the empty house while tears blurred my vision.
How dare he stand there judging me after creating this entire situation!
How dare he make me feel crazy for loving him too deeply when he spent years feeding those feelings?
How dare he keep acting like I was separated from his real life after everything we been through together?
I slid down against the wall slowly once my energy gave out.
Broken glass scattered around me while sobs shook through my chest hard enough to hurt. Sitting there on that floor I finally let myself admit something I’d been avoiding for months I was losing myself.
I had a nursing degree from Howard University.
Money and my own house. Yet somehow my entire emotional stability revolved around a married man deciding how much space I deserved in his life.
That realization made me cry even harder.
Because this wasn’t who I used to be. I used to be focused and disciplined.
Now look at me threatening a man and competing with his wife for his love and attention. I pulled my knees to my chest while tears kept falling.
Because no matter how toxic this situation became, no matter how much it hurt, I still loved him enough to destroy myself trying to hold onto him. Maybe Deuce was right my ass need counseling.