Chapter One
Zamora
Ten Years Later…
I hate to admit it, but I was happy to bid my crew farewell. Although I was in Las Vegas mainly for a wedding, I extended my stay an additional four days. I planned to get some much-needed R I just knew we had. I never wanted to see him again, let alone co-parent with him. However, the reality was that I wanted my baby.
I touched my lower abdomen, thinking of the life growing inside me. I was only two weeks pregnant, not far at all. I wished I hadn’t been so careless that night and let him enter my body. I was celebrating the grand opening of my catering company, The Z Spot, and Evan was there pretending to be a supportive husband to save face with our family and friends. We had indulged in good food and plenty of champagne, and before leaving the building, we turned up the heat in the kitchen, making love right there on the counter. Afterward, he drove us home, and we shared the night making love and behaving as if we were still a loving couple. When I woke up the following morning, he was gone. It was no surprise because he never diverted from his routine, so I knew he was at the barbershop.
Pulling my naked body from the bed, I went to relieve my aching bladder. As I listened to my business splatter into the porcelain bowl, memories of the night before flooded my head.
“Shit! Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Fuck!” I said with my hands formed into tight fists on my plump thighs and eyes shut just as tightly as I could close them. I was mad at myself for having slept with the damn enemy.
After wiping, I immediately started the shower. I went to my sink, grabbed my electric toothbrush, brushed my teeth, gargled, and then washed my face before I stepped into the massive shower. While under the stream of near-scalding water, I scolded myself for what I had done the night before with Ev. Damn, that was foolish, I couldn’t go back in time to make a wiser decision.
With all the baby-momma drama that involved trick-ass Terri, I was over Evan and his lies. During her entire pregnancy, our marriage was in limbo. Some days, I wanted to believe in Evan because he was so charming and good to me. After all, we’re only human and make mistakes. But then there were times when he would come home late, using the excuse of working late. Sometimes, he would pick a fight with me on purpose to have reason to storm out of the house and be gone for hours. Of course, he would say he just needed to blow off steam, but in my heart, I knew Terri had something to do with his actions.
Because I was so focused on getting my catering company up and running, Evan became that pot on the back burner, slow-cooking something you had to stir every now and then. The Z Spot was my only concern at that time, so I dealt with shit that I would have normally shut down. Fast forward to the birth of the other woman’s child. When we showed up to the appointment to take the paternity test, I took one look at that little boy and ran the hell up out of there. He chased me down with apology after apology.
“We’re fucking done!” I spat after slowing and turning to him. “Your dick was so desperate to make a baby. Well, now you got a son, and we are fuckin’ done!” I yelled and stormed off.
I kept walking with no destination in mind because I hadn’t driven, but finally stopped to get an Uber. I didn’t go home, though. Instead, I went to my sister’s, who comforted me as always. When I finally made it home, he was there.
“Can we talk?”
“No, but you can find another place to live,” I said, heading towards the bedroom.
“Zamora, please, just hear me out.”
I blew out the air held captive in my chest, then slid my ass down onto the chaise in our bedroom.
“Speak!” I demanded, my heart racing at a speed I had become accustomed to ever since the affair and pregnancy were revealed to me.
“I know I lied in the beginning about the entire affair and baby, and I’m sorry. I know you don’t believe me, but Terri was just ass, a roll in the damn sheets. All physical, baby; nothing serious. That’s it, that’s all. It happened, and I was wrong. But I never intended to get her pregnant. We didn’t get the test done today because I knew how upset you were, but I still don’t believe that baby is mine. Something is telling me shit is off with her.”
I chuckled loudly. “Just ass, huh? Ass, Evan? My goofy-ass husband tells me a woman who he penetrated without a condom was just ass! Is that shit supposed to make me feel better about this bullshit of a marriage you threw away over some ass ?” I yelled, fighting back the tears.
I didn’t want to cry another tear in front of his selfish, self-indulging ass. He didn’t deserve to see that type of emotion from me. He was a joke, and I did not want to show him my emotions or even give him any indication that I cared.
“We’ve been way off, Zee,” he defended. I heard him, but I wanted to slap his cheating ass face. He had made foolish decisions that made shit even worse, so reminding me that things were not perfect did not lessen the blow to my damn heart.
“You’re right about that. How did you think things would be between us when you’re keeping whores on the side, Ev? Then you vowed to get your shit together, but our minute of peace turned to war after your side piece showed up on our doorstep with her pregnancy announcement. Yes, since that day, we have been way the fuck off. But prior to the bitch ringing my damn doorbell and telling me that my husband was going to be a father, we were fine. Well, at least I thought we were fine because I believed your lying ass when you told me that you were not stepping out on me. Now, there’s a woman across town who has your child. So, if there is nothing else you got other than ‘I’m sorry’, we are done, and I really need you to be somewhere else right now,” I said, swiping at my tears.
“Zee, we can get past this. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you. I never wanted her like I want you, please believe me. I don’t love her the way I love you. You are my wife. You are my wife, dammit! He yelled.
“I was your wife,” I spat back, giving him the same level of energy. I was angry, and I no longer wanted to play his game or be a fool for love.
“Listen, things are mad crazy right now. I know I hurt you, and I can tell you a million times I’m sorry, but before you totally give up on me…on us, can we try? Anything you want, say it,” he said tenderly, lowering his voice. He slowly moved closer to me, and I did not need him to touch me. I still had a thing for Evan, and I didn’t want to be a fool for him anymore.
For a moment, he resembled the man I married. However, I was very aware of what the reality was with him. My stuck-on stupid days were damn done. His words were trash, and I no longer wanted him or to be married to him. I was over and done with it all.
“I wanted a faithful husband, but I guess you were incapable of being that. There is absolutely nothing you can say or do to change my mind. I am fed up, tired, and exhausted with your bullshit. The manipulation will no longer work on me, Ev. You have destroyed all hope for us and this damn marriage. We are over, and I won’t say it again!” I declared and then stood up.
I waited for him to say something, and when he didn’t, I headed into the bathroom and shut the door. I had no more words for him, and he apparently had none for me.
Instead of leaving our marital home, Evan moved into the guest room. After our first court hearing, we started going to marriage counseling at the request of the judge. However, when the test results came back that Evan was indeed the baby’s father, I knew there was no coming back from that. No way could I be the stepmother to a child that was born outside of my marriage. True, he was an innocent child, but I wanted nothing to do with him or his scumbag parents.
Evan and I had finally agreed to divorce, but that one night had me in a damn situation with him. What’s going to happen now after I tell him that I’m pregnant? I wondered as I wheeled my suitcase down the hall to the elevator.
It was time to bid Las Vegas farewell and return to my business and failed marriage. When I got to the airport, I made my way to the departure gate. I was more than two hours early since I had left the hotel at checkout time, and my flight was not scheduled to depart for another four-plus hours. To pass the time, I pulled out my tablet and opened the Audible app to start my next book. Minutes later, I began to feel sleepy and knew it was the pregnancy, especially since I had a very restful night.
I decided to find another seat near a wall so I could secure my bags against the wall. I used my neck pillow to get more comfortable. After putting the pillow around my neck and placing the small travel blanket, I pulled from my oversized handbag over the upper portion of my body. I went back to listening and snoozing until an alert from my phone jolted me. It was a text message from the airline informing me that my flight would be delayed an hour. Not bothered by that one hour, I settled back into my book and quickly dosed off again, but about thirty minutes later, another alert woke me. Seeing the word delayed again on the screen, I opened the app to see how long it would be. Another hour?!
Realizing I had no control over the flight’s departure, I adjusted myself in the seat and continued to get a few more z’s. The attendant’s loud voice over the speaker was the next thing to awaken me. When she announced the flight was now canceled and there were no more flights going to Chicago that evening, I hurried to throw my items into my bag. I had a crucial meeting with a potential client who was referred to me for an engagement party and possible wedding, and I had to get my black ass home. I hurried to the counter but not faster than five or six others. So, I stood there in the line, anxiously waiting for my turn. When the clerk gave me a wave to come to the desk, I moved quickly as if someone from behind me was going the damn line.
“Please tell me you can get me out tonight…even if it’s on another airline. I have a very, very important meeting in the morning, and I can’t miss it. I mean, this is crucial,” I tried to convey with no stress, but the truth was I was stressing.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but all flights to Chicago have been canceled due to the weather. I’ll be happy to rebook you on the earliest flight we have in the morning,” she politely offered.
“You gotta be kidding me. I can’t wait until tomorrow. I have samples to make and need to be home tonight to prepare dishes for tomorrow,” I cried. I knew my commitments did not matter or didn’t mean a damn thing to the lovely attendant, but the human in me reacted like we humans do. I didn’t know if it was my hormones, but I was on the verge of tears.
“Please, ma’am, let me see what’s available for first thing tomorrow,” the ticket agent offered and started stroking the keys on her keyboard.
After handing over my ID, she pecked at the keyboard and then told me that her earliest flight was 7:10 a.m. I nodded, agreeing, even though I was pissed. What could I do? I’d have to email my client to explain and reschedule. I hoped she would agree.
As the agent placed the new ticket in my hand, I heard someone call my name behind me. Involuntarily, my eyes closed because that was a voice that my heart and my ears would never forget. I took a deep breath and then exhaled, and I turned to see him.
“Marcus,” I whispered, my eyes locking on my first love.
My knees grew weak, and I involuntarily posted my weak body against the counter to catch myself.
“Ma’am, I need to help the next person in line,” the agent said with a sense of urgency in her voice.
I gave her a look but knew I needed to move so she could do her job. So, I quickly gathered my belongings and started walking in Marcus’s direction, wondering what our first words would be to each other in over a decade of seeing each other.