MY SISTER’S MAN WAS SUPPOSED TO NEVER KNOW MY NAME
CHAPTER 1
BITCH, THAT’S HIM
“Bitch, you got ten fucking minutes.”
Samaria Raines leaned on her horn outside Zaviyah’s place in Lauderdale Manors like she had lost her damn mind.
BEEEEEEP.
Zaviyah snatched the curtain back.
“Bitch!”
Samaria looked up from her white Mercedes and leaned on the horn again.
BEEEEEEP.
“Keep playing and I’m not fucking going!”
Samaria rolled down her window.
“YOUR ASS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE READY AT EIGHT!”
“It’s eight fifteen!”
“EXACTLY!”
Zaviyah slammed the curtain shut.
“Hoe.”
She heard Samaria yell from outside.
“I HEARD THAT!”
“How the fuck you hear me through a window?”
“BECAUSE I KNOW YOUR ASS!”
Zaviyah couldn’t even argue with that.
She grabbed her purse from the bed, checked herself in the mirror one last time and sighed.
She looked good.
Damn good.
Chocolate brown skin.
Long black curls falling past her shoulders.
A fitted black romper that hugged every curve without making her look like she was trying too hard.
Gold hoops.
Gold sandals.
Gloss popping.
She picked up her phone.
The lock screen lit up.
Her son.
Two year old Kyren was smiling with four little teeth showing, holding a toy truck upside down like he had personally invented the damn thing.
Zaviyah smiled.
“My baby.”
She opened her messages.
MALISSA
Ky ate. Bath done. He running around here fighting sleep though
Zaviyah typed back.
Make his lil bad ass lay down. And don’t give him no more juice.
Three dots appeared immediately.
Girl bye ?? this baby run your whole house and you know it.
Zaviyah smiled.
She couldn’t even argue.
Kyren did run shit.
Her house.
Her mama’s house.
Daycare.
Probably half of Broward County if somebody gave him enough time.
She grabbed her keys and headed outside.
Samaria was already making that irritated face.
“What?”
“You changed your outfit.”
“So?”
“That ain’t what you had on when you FaceTimed me.”
“I changed.”
“I can see that.”
“Then why the fuck you announcing it?”
Samaria looked her up and down.
“Who you dressing up for?”
“Myself.”
“Mmm hmm.”
Zaviyah opened the passenger door.
“Don’t start.”
“I ain’t say nothing.”
“You made a sound.”
“Can’t make sounds now?”
“Not them suspicious ass sounds.”
Samaria laughed and pulled away from the curb.
Zaviyah looked over at her sister.
Samaria looked good too.
She always did.
Where Zaviyah had more of a throw something on and somehow still look fine type of style, Samaria planned every damn detail.
Hair laid.
Makeup soft.
Nails fresh.
Cream colored dress.
Little designer bag sitting in her lap.
Samaria was thirty and had been acting forty five since she was twenty two.
Zaviyah was twenty eight and had been accused of acting twenty one since she actually was twenty one.
They were different as hell.
But that was her bitch.
Her first best friend.
Her first enemy.
Her emergency contact.
The person she could call at three in the morning and say, “Don’t ask no questions,” and
Samaria would ask at least fifteen questions while putting her shoes on.
“You excited?” Samaria asked.
“For what?”
Samaria looked at her.
“Bitch.”
“What?”
“You finally meeting Kavon.”
Zaviyah groaned.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You been talking about this man so damn much I feel like I already know him.”
Samaria smiled.
“That’s my baby.”
“See.”
“What?”
“That shit.”
“What shit?”
“My baby. My man. Kavon said. Kavon bought.
Kavon took me. Kavon surprised me. Kavon breathed today.”
Samaria burst out laughing.
“Bitch, you a hater.”
“I’m tired.”
“You jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Because I got a man.”
“I can get a man.”
“Keeping one is your issue.”
Zaviyah turned slowly.
“Watch your fucking mouth.”
Samaria laughed harder.
“Tell me I’m lying.”
“You are.”
“Okay.”
“Okay then.”
“Okay.”
“Fuck you.”
“Love you too.”
Zaviyah looked out the window as they headed toward Broward Boulevard.
She really was happy for her sister.
At least she wanted to be.
Samaria had been through enough bullshit with men.
The last one had been a professional liar with no discernible job and three children he somehow forgot to mention.
So when Kavon came along almost eight months ago and Samaria started glowing differently, Zaviyah was relieved.
Flowers showed up at Samaria’s job.
Random dinner dates.
Weekend trips.
Kavon remembered little shit.
Her coffee order.
Her favorite candy.
The perfume she wore.
He apparently listened when she talked.
That alone put him ahead of ninety percent of the niggas Samaria had dated.
There was only one weird thing.
Zaviyah had never met him.
Not once.
She had heard his voice in the background during FaceTime.
Seen the back of his head in one picture.
Saw his hand holding Samaria’s wine glass in another.
But somehow, every time Samaria tried to get everybody together, something happened.
Kyren got sick.
Zaviyah had to work.
Kavon traveled.
Samaria changed plans.
Life.
Tonight, Samaria had apparently decided enough was enough.
“You ain’t escaping this time,” she said.
Zaviyah looked over.
“Who escaping?”
“You.”
“I ain’t been escaping shit.”
“Yes, you have.”
“Girl, bye.”
“Every time I try to introduce y’all, your ass got an excuse.”
“My son had RSV the first time.”
“Okay, that one was valid.”
“Thank you.”
“The second time?”
“I had to work.”
“Third?”
Zaviyah paused.
“Something happened.”
Samaria laughed.
“Exactly.”
“Why you need me to meet this nigga so bad anyway?”
Samaria’s smile changed.
Zaviyah noticed immediately.
“Oh fuck.”
“What?”
“That face.”
“What face?”
“That dumb bitch in love face.”
Samaria slapped her arm.
“Shut up.”
“You love that nigga?”
Samaria looked at the road.
Her smile answered before her mouth did.
“Yeah.”
Zaviyah sat up.
“Oh shit.”
“Don’t do all that.”
“No. You said LOVE?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
Samaria frowned.
“What the fuck you mean how much?”
“Like regular love or you done started looking at wedding dresses on Pinterest love?”
Samaria went quiet.
Zaviyah’s mouth dropped open.
“BITCH.”
“Shut up.”
“YOU BEEN LOOKING AT WEDDING DRESSES?”
“I said shut up!”
“Oh, you gone.”
“I am not gone.”
“You gone gone.”
Samaria was laughing now.
“He makes me happy.”
Zaviyah smiled.
And meant it.
“Then I’m happy for you.”
Samaria looked over.
“For real?”
“For real.”
“Thank you.”
“But if he hurt you, I’m keying his shit.”
“Please don’t.”
“Then tell him don’t hurt you.”
“I’ll put it in the relationship agreement.”
“Good.”
They laughed.
Then Samaria said something that made Zaviyah’s smile disappear.
“He wants to meet Kyren too.”
Zaviyah looked at her.
“My son?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Samaria frowned.
“Because that’s his future nephew if everything works out.”
“Future nephew?”
“Don’t make it weird.”
“I’m not making it weird.”
“You just made it weird.”
“I don’t have random men around Ky.”
“Kavon isn’t random.”
“To you.”
“He’s been my man eight months.”
“And he still random to my baby.”
Samaria sighed.
“Fine. Meet him first.”
“That was already the fucking plan.”
“Okay.”
Zaviyah looked back out the window.
Something about that conversation made her uncomfortable.
She didn’t know why.
Maybe because Kyren didn’t have a father around.
Not because Zaviyah had intentionally planned it that way.
Life just happened.
Two years earlier, she had gone on a girls trip to
Tampa with two women she used to work with.
Three nights.
Too much liquor.
Too much freedom.
One very fine ass man.
Kav.
That was all she knew him as.
Kav.
He had been staying at the same hotel.
Tall.
Brown skin.
Beard.
Tattoos.
Smile dangerous enough to make common sense leave the building.
They met near the hotel bar the first night.
Flirted the second.
By the third, Zaviyah had ended up in his room.
Then his bed.
Then his shower.
Then his bed again.
It was supposed to be vacation shit.
No promises.
No feelings.
No trying to turn three days into forever.
He asked for her number the next morning.
She gave it to him.
Or thought she did.
Her phone ended up in the hotel pool later that afternoon after one of her drunk ass friends knocked it out of her hand.
By the time Zaviyah got another phone and restored what she could, his number was gone.
She knew his first name.
He knew hers.
That was it.
She had tried searching social media.
Do you know how many damn men named Kav lived in Florida?
Too fucking many.
Eventually she stopped looking.
Six weeks later, two pink lines showed up on a pregnancy test.
And Kyren came eight months after that.
Zaviyah had never regretted him.
Not once.
She regretted that she couldn’t give him answers about his father.
But she never regretted her baby.
“You good?”
Samaria’s voice pulled her back.
“Yeah.”
“You got quiet.”
“Just thinking about Ky.”
“He good?”
“Yeah. Malissa got him.”
“You know that baby probably still awake.”
“Definitely.”
Samaria laughed.
“He bad.”
“He two.”
“He bad and two.”
“Fuck you.”
They pulled into downtown Fort Lauderdale.
Friday night traffic was doing what Friday night traffic did.
Everybody and their mama was outside.
Music.
Cars.
People crossing streets like they had nine lives.
Samaria finally parked.
Zaviyah checked her gloss.
“You nervous?” Samaria asked.
“To meet your man?”
“Yeah.”
“Why the fuck would I be nervous?”
“Because I told him you crazy.”
Zaviyah stared at her.
“You told that man I’m crazy?”
“I said you can be.”
“I’m about to show his ass crazy.”
“Please don’t.”
“You started it.”
They walked toward the lounge.
Samaria had picked a spot near Las Olas where the music was loud enough to feel like Friday but not so loud everybody had to scream directly into each other’s mouths.
Zaviyah liked it immediately.
“Okay,” she said. “This cute.”
“See.”
“Don’t get excited.”
They were shown to a booth.
Samaria checked her phone.
“He said five minutes.”
“Good. I need a drink before the interrogation.”
“You’re not interrogating him.”
“I absolutely am.”
“Viyah.”
“What?”
“Behave.”
“Why everybody always telling me that?”
“Because you need reminders.”
Zaviyah ordered tequila.
Samaria got wine.
Two drinks later, Zaviyah was relaxed.
Laughing.
Talking shit.
Checking pictures Malissa had sent of Kyren asleep sideways across her bed like he paid bills there.
Then Samaria looked toward the entrance.
Her whole face lit up.
Zaviyah saw it.
“That him?”
Samaria smiled.
“Yeah.”
Zaviyah put her phone down.
“Finally. Let me see what all this damn hype about.”
She turned.
And her entire fucking body went cold.
No.
Her smile disappeared.
No fucking way.
The man walking toward their booth was taller than Zaviyah remembered.
Or maybe he only seemed that way because she was sitting.
Black shirt.
Dark jeans.
Fresh haircut.
Same beard.
Same mouth.
Same eyes.
Those fucking eyes.
Zaviyah forgot how to breathe.
Tampa.
Hotel bar.
Elevator.
Room 814.
His hands on her waist.
Her legs around him.
His mouth against her neck.
Morning sunlight.
His voice.
You sure you gotta leave?
Zaviyah’s stomach dropped so violently she thought she might throw up.
Samaria stood.
“Baby.”
The man smiled at her sister.
Then his eyes moved toward Zaviyah.
His smile vanished.
He stopped walking.
Samaria didn’t notice.
She stepped forward and kissed him.
On the mouth.
Zaviyah stared.
Her sister.
Was kissing Kav.
Her Kav.
No.
Not her Kav.
Her vacation Kav.
Her baby daddy Kav.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Samaria pulled away smiling.
“Come on. I want you to finally meet my sister.”
Zaviyah wanted to run.
Actually get up and run the fuck out of the building.
But her legs wouldn’t move.
Kavon approached the table slowly.
His eyes never left hers.
Recognition hit his face harder with every step.
Samaria smiled at Zaviyah.
“Viyah, this is Kavon.”
Zaviyah couldn’t speak.
Samaria looked at him.
“And baby, this is my little sister.”
Kavon stared at Zaviyah.
His eyebrows pulled together.
Then his eyes widened.
“Zaviyah?”
Samaria’s smile disappeared.
Zaviyah’s heart stopped.
Fuck.
Fuck.
FUCK.
Samaria looked at Kavon.
Then at Zaviyah.
Then back at Kavon.
“How the fuck you know my sister’s name?”
Nobody answered.
Zaviyah’s phone lit up on the table.
A picture from Malissa.
Kyren had woken up.
He was sitting in bed smiling at the camera.
Kavon’s eyes dropped toward the screen.
Zaviyah saw it happen.
Saw him glance at the picture.
Saw his expression shift for half a second.
She snatched the phone so fast she nearly knocked over her drink.
Too late.
Kavon looked back at her.
Confused.
Samaria looked between them.
“What the fuck is going on?”
Zaviyah opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because after two years of wondering how she would ever find her son’s father, she finally had.
And the motherfucker was in love with her sister.