Chapter 4 #4
This whole thing with silent karma… it just wasn’t working out for me anymore. Besides, karma wasn’t for me to serve. It was for God to deliver and I felt like… what was the point? If I was destroying myself, was it even worth it? Absolutely not.
“Shit baby, you good?” Asked middleman.
I pulled off his dick and ran my tongue over my bottom lip. Salt. Tears. I was crying. He noticed. Tears were rolling down my face. I was so far gone that I didn’t even realize I was crying. I wondered if they noticed, too. The small crowd behind me. Wondered if Judah saw.
Just before number one could pull my thong down, I stopped him. Stood, pulled my pants up, and without a word, just… walked away. Pushing by Judah, who tried to grab me, on the way out.
About thirty minutes later, I was pulling into the driveway.
The ride home was spent with me crying most of the way.
I didn’t stop until I was about five minutes from pulling up.
I was a fucking mess. Didn’t know what to do with myself.
The only thing I could count on was crying. Which was pretty fucking pathetic.
With a deep breath, I prayed like hell the kids were in bed already.
Shifting my eyes to the dash, I saw that it was 9:55PM.
They should’ve been in bed. The only one that would be up at this time was Aubry and she was most likely in her room on the phone doing whatever eighteen-year-old girls did these days, so I didn’t have to worry about her bombarding me when I walked in.
After texting Sienna, letting her know I was at home, I grabbed my bag and got out of the car.
With a deep breath I hit the alarm and walked inside of the house.
I sighed a sigh of relief when I saw that the kitchen was clean and clearly closed for the day, with the oven hood light the only thing on.
Sitting on the stove, though, was a tray of food that I assumed was for me.
Walking over to the stove, I lifted it and my stomach growled at the sight of my favorite Chinese dish—almond chicken and shrimp fried rice.
I hadn’t eaten all day. Before digging in, I wanted to wash the night off me, so I just took a piece of chicken out, ate it, and closed the tray back.
Coming out of my shoes, I carried them as I walked across the mopped kitchen floors, toward the hallway where I took the stairs up to the bedroom. I crept the entire walk there, careful not to draw any attention to myself.
When I got to my bedroom, I softly closed the door behind me and turned, to find Duke sprawled out on the bed, phone in hand, knocked out.
Bitch.
Was sleeping comfortably, as always, like he wasn’t living a double life.
I stood there just… staring at him. Averting my eyes from him to the phone resting in his hand, contemplating on if I should check it or not.
I wanted to know more. Wanted to know who she was.
Wanted to know just how much he’d been funding their lives.
Then it hit me… I hadn’t checked the bank statements.
Should have done that a long time ago, the next day after finding out about Diary.
Our shit was probably damn near wiped out with him funding a completely different life.
I crossed my arms over my chest, the heels dangling in my hand, tempting me to launch them at him.
I hated Ducati. Hated him because despite finding out about a secret child, I still loved him.
Wasn’t that crazy? I hated him for making me love him.
Hated him for making me believe we were actually trying.
Hated him for making me believe he’d actually changed. Damn, he was good.
I swallowed as tears threatened to spill over my bottom lid.
I didn’t want to cry anymore. I’d shed so many tears over this marriage already.
I should have been drained dry. But I wasn’t.
I felt like it was because it wasn’t just the marriage I was crying over.
It was me. I was mourning my life. Mourning who I was.
Mourning the only identity I knew. Mahogany Mills-Morris. She was dead. This was dead. Us.
I don’t know how long I was standing there, watching him sleep before he turned over, stretched and looked over at me.
“Shit, Ne, you scared the fuck out of me.”
I bet I did. The bedroom was fairly dark, with the only light shining in the room coming from the small crack through the bathroom door, so I was practically standing in the dark.
Just… watching him. Watched him for so long, standing in that same spot that my feet tingled.
Stood there, watching him for so long that the tears I did cry dried on my skin.
I didn’t say anything. Dropped the shoes I’d been holding for only God knows how long and slowly walked over to the bed.
“What’s wrong? Something happened at work?”
Still, I was quiet.
Stood next to the bed, looking down at him with more tears building behind my low eyes.
“Ducati,” I mumbled.
He sat up on his elbows. If I could see his face, I’d see the deep furrow in his pinched brows, as he looked up at me, confused. I was happy I couldn’t see his face. I didn’t want to. If I seen it, I’d probably spit in it.
“Yeah baby, what’s wrong? Come here.”
He reached out to touch me and I jerked away. He sighed. Sighed like he had the right to be annoyed. Fuck out of here.
I said I was going to wait.
Said I was going to play the long game. Make him suffer.
Sell him a dream and then rip it away but…
I couldn’t. I was strong. Had been strong for so many years.
But I wasn’t that strong. I couldn’t hide what I knew.
Hiding, holding on to it, was only hurting me.
You see what just happened? I went to Pandora’s and as always, lost pieces of me doing shit to get back at a man who didn’t deserve anything but my absence.
I was tired. Tired of hurting myself like that.
Tired of mistreating me, giving myself the short end of the stick.
So, I decided enough was enough. I’d endured too much already.
“I’m going to ask you a question,” I said, as my heart began to race. “And…” I paused to swallow. “And… I need you to be honest. If you lie..” softly, I laughed. “Just… just don’t lie.” Again, I laughed. “If you lie…”