Marissa Alexander
I was in the laundry room washing Samuel’s clothes when I noticed some pink lipstick around the collar of one of his black shirts. I paused before bringing it closer to my nose. Instantly, I was hit with some cheap ass perfume that damn sure wasn’t mine.
“This triflin’ ass nigga,” I muttered, sucking my teeth.
At this point, finding shit on Samuel’s clothes shouldn’t have surprised me, but somehow the disrespect still managed to piss me off every single time. The nigga stayed on the road more than he stayed home, and every time he came back, it was always some bullshit attached to him.
Lipstick, perfume, random receipts, and unknown numbers. The list kept getting longer.
I tossed the rest of his clothes into the washer before throwing that shirt off to the side. That muthafucka could stay dirty for all I cared.
The washing machine started while I grabbed my phone from the counter and called Samuel anyway, already knowing his sorry ass probably wasn’t gon’ answer.
The line rang a couple of times before voicemail picked up. Of course.
I quickly hung up before rolling my eyes. “Weak ass nigga.”
I stood there for a while, trying not to let my irritation get the best of me, but somehow my mind ended up drifting to Kyrie instead, and that only made my mood worse.
While my husband was out here cheating and embarrassing me, Kyrie was somewhere laid up with Sianni, acting like the bitch was Queen Sheba or something.
That shit irritated my soul, especially knowing Kyrie ain’t never completely cut me off until she came around.
Yeah, we were never together like that, but Kyrie and I had history, and the fact that he was out here playing house with her like I never existed didn’t sit right with me.
Before I could stop myself, I pulled his number up and pressed call. The phone instantly disconnected, and my eyebrows furrowed. The call had failed. I looked at the phone and then let out a dry laugh.
This nigga had blocked me. The irritation in my chest worsened instantly. I opened Instagram, and like the app was purposely trying to piss me off, the first thing that popped up was a picture of Kyrie and Sianni leaving some diner together.
His hand was on her lower back while she smiled up at him like she had won a damn prize. The comments were even worse.
Couples goals
He really loves his wife
The way he looks at her >>
The word 'wife' made me roll my eyes before I exited the app and called the one person who I already knew hated Sianni just as much as me.
Alexia answered damn near instantly.
“What?” she snapped.
I frowned. “Damn, bitch. Who the fuck pissed you off?”
“That weak-ass nigga Marvin,” she hissed. “I’m in a hotel right now because he wanna keep bringing up Sianni.”
“What the fuck he bringing her up for?” I asked, my brows pulling together.
That whole shit threw me off because… what?
Was this nigga fucking her too?
“He said I been acting different toward her.” Alexia sighed on the other end. “But it’s whatever. Now I ain’t got nowhere to stay, and I’m stuck in a hotel.”
I leaned back against the couch, my fingers tapping against my leg while I tried to piece this shit together.
“So, all this behind Sianni?” I asked. “Your ex-best friend?”
That shit sounded wild as hell to me.
“It’s more to it than that,” she muttered, her voice cracking slightly. “I just… I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”
I could tell she was trying not to cry.
“Bet,” I replied after a second. “You wanna come out here and stay with me?”
“Nawl,” she said quickly. “I don’t wanna interrupt whatever you and your man got going on.”
That pulled a laugh outta me.
“Bitch,” I scoffed. “Ain’t shit going on with me and that nigga.”
My jaw tightened instantly at the thought of him.
“I just found some shit in his clothes, and I’m done with his ass,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Matter fact, I been done… but this time? Yeah, this shit official.”
I sat up straighter, dragging my tongue across my teeth before smirking to myself.
“It’s time for me to get my man and stop playing.”
“Aight,” Alexia replied softly. “Then, yeah… I’ll come out there.”
“Bet. I’m finna book your flight now, then I’ll text you the details.”
“Okay.”
Soon as we got off the phone, I grabbed my laptop and started looking up flights. It didn’t take long before I found one leaving tomorrow afternoon. I booked it, then sent her all the information.
A couple of seconds later, my phone buzzed.
ALEXIA: Alright.
I texted back quickly, letting her know I’d be there to pick her up the second she touched down.
I set my phone on the marble counter and stared around the quiet-ass house. Samuel still hadn’t answered me. Three calls. Two texts. Nothing.
That nigga was probably laid up with another bitch right now, not giving a damn about me.
Sucking my teeth, I walked over to the wine rack and grabbed one of those expensive-ass bottles Samuel liked to buy whenever he wanted to impress people. The cork popped when I opened it, and I poured myself a glass.
Then another. Then said fuck it and filled the damn thing almost to the top.
The silence in that house was getting on my nerves, so I grabbed my phone and turned on some music. Something slow and toxic. One of those songs that had me thinking about shit I should probably let go of.
I took a long sip of wine before my dumb ass opened Instagram again.
And, of course… The first thing I saw was Kyrie.
My stomach tightened instantly.
This nigga had just posted pictures with Sianni. They looked happy and in love. Kyrie’s one arm was draped around her. And the way he was looking at her? I knew that look.
My jaw tightened as I kept scrolling. Another picture. Another damn caption about being “grateful” for his wife.
Wife.
That word alone pissed me off.
The comments were even worse. Women in the comments were talking about some “relationship goals” and “they look perfect together.”
I rolled my eyes and took another drink. Perfect my ass.
The wine started warming me up a little, but it still wasn’t enough to keep my mind from drifting back to him.
Back to us. Back to that damn hotel.
I could still remember the way Kyrie used to look at me when he wanted me to shut up. I had been running my mouth about something stupid while he stood there, watching me with that look in his eyes, like he was getting irritated and turned on at the same time.
The next thing I knew, he was behind me.
One hand slid around my waist while the other gripped my thigh hard enough to make me gasp.
“You talk too damn much,” he muttered against my neck.
Just thinking about it made heat crawl up my body.
Kyrie always moved like he already owned me. Calm. Cocky. Aggressive without even trying.
That nigga never had to say much. The way he touched me was enough.
I gripped my wine glass tighter. And now Sianni was the one getting that version of him. That shit burned me up inside.
I slammed the glass down harder than I meant to and looked back at the picture still glowing on my screen. Sianni, smiling hard as hell like she won something. Yeah, fucking right. Samuel was cheating, and Kyrie was playing house with another bitch.
And me? I was sitting in this big-ass empty house, drinking wine and thinking about memories that weren’t mine anymore.
My jaw tightened. That was about to change. Because Alexia was on her way, and once she got here, we were going to figure this shit out together.
THE NEXT DAY…
The next day, I pulled into the airport garage a little after noon, my heels clicking against the pavement while I made my way toward arrivals.
My phone buzzed in my hand.
Alexia: Just landed.
I slid my sunglasses up on top of my head and leaned against the car, watching people come in and out the sliding doors with luggage all around them.
A few seconds later, I spotted Alexia walking out with a big ass designer bag on her shoulder and an attitude written all over her face.
As soon as she saw me, she sucked her teeth.
“Girl…” She sighed once she got close enough. “I need a damn drink.”
That pulled a smirk outta me. “Already got the bottle waiting.”
Alexia and I ain’t really talk much on the drive back. The radio played low while she sat in the passenger seat, sighing every five seconds and looking out the window like her life was over.
As soon as we pulled up, I grabbed her bag out of the trunk and led her inside.
The house was still quiet as hell.
Still empty.
Samuel still hadn’t called me back either.
I led her into the living room where the wine bottle and glasses were already waiting on the table. Alexia damn near collapsed onto the couch while I poured us both a drink.
“So, Marvin really put you out?” I asked, handing her the glass.
Her whole face tightened. “That nigga chose her. Sat there defending her ass like she some innocent little victim, and I’m the problem.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. That hoe always playing victim.”
“Exactly.” Alexia took a long sip. “And Marvin’s dumb ass falling for it.”
I sat back against the couch, swirling my wine around slowly while she kept talking.
“That nigga really sat there and acted like I was wrong for recording in Kyrie’s house,” she muttered. “Like I was trying to hurt somebody.”
“You should’ve seen how she looked at me the last time I saw her,” I replied. “That hoe swear she won.”
Alexia grabbed my phone once I pulled Sianni’s page back up.
“Look at this shit,” she scoffed, scrolling through the pictures. “This bitch always smiling.”
“Because she trying to sell a dream,” I replied. “That’s all that is.”
“Exactly.” Alexia nodded. “Every post is some grateful wife bullshit.”
I leaned over a little, looking at another picture of Sianni standing next to Kyrie, smiling hard as hell while he looked down at her.
My jaw tightened instantly.
“I’m so sick of seeing this shit,” I muttered before taking another drink.
Alexia kept scrolling before her face shifted slightly.
“What?” I asked immediately.
“Nothin’.”
“Nawl,” I frowned. “What?”
She hesitated for a second before taking another sip of wine. “I’m just saying… don’t let social media fool you.”
My eyes narrowed.
“What that mean?”
Alexia looked down at the phone. “You know how these athletes are. Everything gotta look perfect for the internet.”
Something about the way she said it made my stomach tighten.
“You know something.”
“I don’t know shit,” she replied too fast.
“Alexia.”
She sighed before setting the phone down. “I’m just saying… Sianni be playing her role real good.”
I stared at her for a second.
Yeah, that hoe knew more than what she was saying.
“I don’t care what role she playing,” I muttered. “That girl don’t know Kyrie like I do.”
Alexia looked at me over the rim of her glass. “You really think you can get him back?”
“I know I can.”
She went quiet after that, but I caught the look she gave me.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothin’.” She shrugged. “I just think Kyrie moved on.”
“He ain’t moved on,” I cut in quick. “That nigga playing house ’cause it looks good right now. That’s it.”
Alexia studied me for a second before nodding slowly. “Aight then… so what we gon’ do?”
A slow smirk spread across my face.
“We gon’ get in that hoe head.”
“How?”
“We remind Kyrie I’m still here,” I replied. “And we make Sianni uncomfortable every chance we get.”
Alexia smirked. “Now that sounds like fun.”
“Oh, it is.” I laughed softly before clinking my glass against hers. “’Cause we’re just getting started.”
I couldn’t wait to see this hoe fall and eventually drop Kyrie like a bad habit so I could officially slide my way in there and get what was rightfully mine.