SAJE #2
Sandy pursed her pale, thin lips and motioned for the guards to enter the dressing room. “Please see that Mrs. St. Pierre… Oops, I mean, Ms. Atkins, safely makes it off the property.”
She backed up out of my face quickly after that.
“Sandy, fuck you! And everybody else around this muthafucka! You ain’t shit, and this show won’t be shit without me! Fuck y’all!” Everybody was going to hear me on my way out.
When I say those guards got me the fuck up out of there in a hurry, they played no games.
After my truck was loaded, I sped away in full tears, defeated and mad at the world. When I arrived home, I remembered the envelope on the vanity with my name on it. I didn’t have time to open it back in the dressing room.
I ripped it open and pulled out the folded, single sheet of paper.
Hey,
I’m sure by the time you read this letter, you heard the news.
“You’ve been fired, hoe!” I wish I could be there to see the stupid-ass look on yo’ face when they told you.
You should’ve kept that pussy tucked in yo’ panties.
Bitch, you had it good being with a fine, rich nigga like Reason.
You lucky his ass wasn’t a cheater because either Novah or I would’ve had a ball jumping up and down on that dick…
I bet that shit is big as fuck. It’s a shame.
You fucked my nigga, Ezekiel, and Novah’s man, Basheer.
Smh, you a real slut bucket. Aren’t you ashamed?
Letting multiple niggas cum in that sloppy pussy.
Where did being a hoe get you, Saje? Ha, I’ll let you think about that question for a minute.
You sure will have all the time in the world to think after this.
Since you love being the center of attention, I made sure to put the focus all on you. I told Sandy about the eventful gender reveal. Now, you’re really the star at the studio. You’re welcome.
Deuces, bitch,
Wynn
I cried and screamed repeatedly as I pounded my fists against the steering wheel like it was Wynn’s fucking head.
Divorce papers? This nigga Reason had the nerve to serve me with divorce papers.
I should’ve filed for divorce first. He left Miami and walked out of my life like we wasn’t married, like we hadn’t put in years together.
I understood I fucked up, but how could he walk away without fighting for our marriage first?
He laid eyes on that surrogate, and the next thing I knew, he was gone.
The only thing that made sense was that him and that woman played me. This had to be their plan all along, their way of getting me out the way.
Before she pulled off that dramatic fainting stunt, I stared at her, thinking she looked familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then it hit me. She looked like the same bitch in the prom picture Reason kept in his wallet. She was older now, but her features hadn’t changed.
In the photo, she and Reason were all smiles, and all hugged up. That shit made me sick to my stomach. I had always wondered why he carried a picture of his ex high school bitch around in his wallet. I complained about it, but when I realized he wasn’t getting rid of it, I eventually let it go.
If I’d known he was still in love with her, I would’ve found a way to snatch that picture out of his wallet and burn that shit.
Reason had to know his ex was the surrogate.
I didn’t believe for one second that was all a coincidence.
They played that shit off on the yacht like they were all shocked to see each other, but I think it was just a front to throw me and our guests off.
Because how the fuck, out of all the broke women in LA, was she the one who signed up and got selected to be our surrogate?
It didn’t make sense. It felt more like they set that shit up.
A part of me also wondered if Basheer was in on it. He was Reason’s right-hand man, and he knew a lot about his personal business. This was information I would have to be okay never knowing, but it had crossed my mind a few times.
I didn’t care what kind of chemistry or old love Reason thought he had with that woman. She could and would never be me. I gave my husband the best parts of his life. What we shared was grown love, not that kiddy shit they had.
The other thing that kept plaguing my brain was the woman’s daughter.
She looked just like Reason. Was he her father?
If he was, was that why he was so adamant about allowing the surrogate to bring her to the gender reveal?
Question after question ran through my head, and it had me ready to explode because I had no answers.
I couldn’t even badger Basheer because he was no use to anybody anymore.
I’d called Reason to get answers, just to find out his personal, business, and work phone numbers had all been changed.
Then, I drove straight to his office and was immediately escorted back outside before I could even make it fully inside the building.
My access to him had been completely cut off, like I was never an important factor in his life at all.
The pain from every area in my life was mentally excruciating.
The turn of events had me wanting to change, but I couldn’t help slipping back into a state of rage while I tried to deal with my emotions. Thinking I got played had me aggravated all over again.
I entered the living room with my mind all over the place as I stared at Basheer looking out of the window.
I aggressively grabbed the handles on the wheelchair, wheeled his ass into the bedroom, and struggled to put him in bed on my own.
Seeing him in this state was another devastating thing I was dealing with.
Reason had really fucked him up when he threw him in the ocean.
Thankfully, there were lifeguards on the yacht because he couldn’t swim.
They did all they could, but it wasn’t enough.
The damage was done. He hit his head on the side of the yacht when he was thrown, and that was the moment his life changed forever.
We found out Basheer had suffered cognitive impairment, which affected his memory. He couldn’t remember anything anymore. He also suffered from motor dysfunction, and that caused problems with his balance and motor skills.
Basheer was disabled and could no longer do a damn thing on his own. All that good dick and bomb tongue he used to work my middle with had now gone to waste. Some days I stared at him and thought, What the fuck? How did we get to this point?
I felt obligated to be his caregiver because of our history.
Plus, I felt like I’d been blackballed in the industry, so I had nothing better to do.
I couldn’t book a gig for the life of me.
I even tried auditioning for those low-budget films I used to never even consider, and I never got a call back from any of them either.
Thankfully, Reason had funded everything in my life during the years we were together, which allowed me to save my own money. That was what I was using now to survive, because there was no longer any money coming in.
I threw myself on the bed next to Basheer, frustrated that my life had changed in an instant. Tears formed in my eyes, and I couldn’t hold them back.
Baislee peeked her head in the room. “Saje, are you and Daddy good?”
I didn’t have a problem with her calling me by my first name, because I didn’t think I deserved the title of “mom.”
I wiped my face and sat up. “As good as we’re gonna get,” I answered.
She stood there for a while without saying anything, then walked in and fixed the pillow under her daddy’s head. I eyed her, admiring how attentive she was to him.
When Basheer was allowed to leave the hospital, I put my pride aside and reached out to Baislee. At first, she was dismissive, but when she saw how serious Basheer’s condition was, she left New York and came to Miami.
Baislee helped with her daddy a lot. I really didn’t have to do much. Seeing how deep her love ran for him made me feel a little jealous, I admit. Her being around felt strange at first, because I never thought I’d see my daughter again.
When Basheer got sent back to New York when we were younger, I had no clue his grandfather made him take Baislee with him.
I was under the impression that one of the women had taken her home.
The whole time, Basheer was taking care of a newborn with the help of his grandmother, Ms. Odessa.
While he lived in Miami, he flew back and forth to New York, and now I knew why.
When Baislee first arrived, she barely said a word to me, but as the days went by, she started shedding layers little by little.
I knew I was changing, because now I was yearning to bond with my daughter.
I knew it might’ve been too late to make up for being gone her whole life, but I hoped it wasn’t too late to try.
I felt ashamed that I once had no problem claiming I wasn’t a mother. This girl literally looked like a younger version of me, and I still couldn’t get over it. She had the sweetest spirit, and the innocence I never had. She resembled me but was nothing like me.
She asked me questions like she was an investigator, and at first, I kept my guard up because it was a story I never spoke about to anybody.
But Baislee deserved to know the truth. She was nineteen years old, and until this point, all she knew were the lies that had been told to her.
I was tired of the secrets, and I needed to release all that shit if I wanted to earn her trust.
Baislee was a professional ballet dancer, and I had the pleasure of watching her perform at a show in Miami.
I cried real tears because I’d missed out on seeing her grow from the beginning to now.
If I had known that this was what it felt like having a child, being there for all their accomplishments and watching them grow into their own person, I would’ve made a different decision years ago.