Chapter 1 #2
I could admit that for a split second I’d thought about letting her arrange that, but I knew that I couldn’t do it.
I wished I could say it was because I was the bigger person, and it wasn’t right, but that wasn’t the case.
The issue was that after what the world had witnessed, there was no way in the world that anybody would believe that I had nothing to do with it.
And, I wasn’t built to wear orange and live inside a prison.
I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I was far too bougie for that.
As I stepped out of the shower, feeling a lot better than when I’d gotten in, I noticed I had three new text messages on my phone.
Picking it up and seeing that all three were from Ray, I rolled my eyes.
He had been trying to reach out to me since I damn near took his head off, and I had been ignoring his ass because I said everything I needed to say.
And, if he missed anything, every damn gossip channel on YouTube had the replay.
RAY:
Ken, answer the phone for me, baby. I swear I can explain everything. I just need you to at least talk to me and hear me out.
RAY:
Come on, Ken. I’m begging, baby. Please don’t end shit like this.
RAY:
I don’t give a fuck about what the news is saying. We know what’s real. Come on, Ken, call me. If I don’t hear back from you, I’m coming over, Ken.
I knew that if I didn’t respond, he would for sure pop his ass up, and that was the last thing that I wanted.
I didn’t trust myself in the same room with him, and it for damn sure wasn’t because I would believe his bullshit and lies.
Nope, I was afraid that I would really try to kill his ass this time for playing in my face for a second fucking time.
So, it was best that we kept our distance, and both went on about our lives.
Picking up my phone, I opened his message and contemplated what I wanted to say to him. I started and erased several messages before I landed on what I wanted to say.
ME:
Raymond, stop fucking messaging me! I don’t want to hear anything that you have to say. And, don’t bring your ass over to my house.
I saw that he read the message a few seconds after I sent it, but I didn’t care what he had to say back, so I blocked him.
There was no fixing what we had, so there wasn’t any further conversation needed.
I was just happy that I managed to figure out he was no good before I walked down the aisle looking like a fucking dummy in six months.
Had we already gotten married, I would’ve for sure found myself behind bars.
But, thankfully, I could make a clean exit and not have to deal with him ever again.
“Alright, now that your ass is clean, what’s next? What do you need me to do?” Zaveah asked, flopping on my bed.
6 MONTHS LATER.
Life for me looked nothing like it did six months ago. Every time I thought about how far I’d fallen, I wanted to cry and commit murder. And, I knew exactly who the hell I wanted to kill. Thankfully, I had talked myself off that ledge several times over the last few months or so.
As for Ray, he eventually slowed down on his attempts to get in contact with me and was living his best life, according to the blogs.
But, I, on the other hand, was struggling and doing badly.
I had already gone through all the money I had saved and the money I got from the things I’d sold, and was forced to do something I never wanted to do. Go back home to my parents.
I always said that going back home, even though my parents would welcome me with open arms, was a last resort for me, and trust me, I’d already exhausted every other option.
Getting a job in PR didn’t seem as though it was going to happen for me.
I had sent my resume to over one hundred agencies, and every one of them said no.
Nobody wanted to work with me because they felt like I was a liability.
I understood where they were coming from, but damn, everyone deserved a second chance, right?
Nonetheless, nobody was trying to give me a second chance, and I hated that so much for me.
I was starting to give up hope and felt like all my jokes about working at Walmart were going to become reality.
Every time I thought about how I went from the top of my game in the PR industry to no longer even being a player made me want to cry.
I’d lost everything behind a man, something I swore I’d never do.
And, it didn’t help that he was thriving while I was the one dealing with all the negativity from something that was technically caused by his actions.
“Come on in here, girl. I don’t know why you’re acting all shy and whatnot. We know this is the last place you want to be staying right now, but you should be grateful that you have a home to come back to. Some people don’t even have that,” my mother said as I slowly crept into the house.
I could see my father coming down the stairs as I made my way into the living room, hopefully to get his wife so that she could leave me be.
I knew that she had good intentions, but my mother could be too much when she wanted to be.
She always thought it was her job to tell me how to live my life and how to approach things.
I wouldn’t say that she was overbearing, but she for damn sure was going to let me know what her thoughts were and how she thought I should move, whether I listened to her or not, which I rarely did.
“Tracey, let the girl breathe, okay? She’s going through something right now, and she doesn’t need us adding more to her plate,” he said, coming where my mother and I sat while giving her that look to check herself and let me breathe.
My father was a big man, and although he’d never so much as raised his voice at us, he definitely was intimidating and scary.
Growing up, whenever I got to the point of bringing a boy home to meet my parents, I knew our relationship would be ending shortly after.
Most times, the moment my father opened the door, I already knew the text I would receive shortly after.
That was a big reason why I’d only brought Ray home to meet them once before we got engaged, and although he made it through, I could tell my father wasn’t too fond of him.
I should’ve taken heed to how my parents reacted to him, and known that things with us wouldn’t end well.
Hell, even my mother, who wanted me to settle down and give her some grandkids, wasn’t a fan of him, and she loved damn near everybody.
I was grateful that, even though she was a little pushy, she always wanted the best for me.
So, even though she wanted me to have the marriage and kids as she had at my age, she didn’t want me to just do that with anybody to say that I’d checked that off my to-do list. With the way that my life was going, I was starting to think that I was most likely going to end up by myself, and she’d just have to love the cats I was sure to have.
“How are you feeling, Sunshine?” My father asked, kissing my forehead and finally taking a seat next to my mother.
He’d been calling me by the nickname Sunshine since I was a little girl.
Growing up, I got teased a lot for my strong features, which really messed up my confidence for a while.
I had almond-shaped eyes, thick eyebrows, and juicy lips.
It was my father who helped me to see the beauty in the features that made me who I was.
And, somewhere along the way, he started calling me sunshine because he said I lit up every room that I walked into.
I guessed that when I learned to accept who I was, I moved differently, and he, among others, could tell when the shift happened.
Little did most people know, though, it really took me until college for me to really appreciate my beauty, and once my body developed, men started to see the beauty in me, too.
I would say around that time, shit went from bad to worse, though.
I spent so much time craving the male attention that I’d never gotten before, and unfortunately, I’d kissed my fair share of frogs until I learned my worth.
“I don’t know, Daddy. I know that I need to figure something out, though.
It’s not just about not wanting to be back home, although I’m grateful to have a loving home to come back to.
It’s the fact that I’ve worked hard to get to where I am.
I put my all into my career, and I'm not going to just give up because I’ve hit a bump in the road.
Y’all didn’t raise me to quit or give up, and I’m not going to start now, especially over a man. ”
“I know that’s right, Sunshine. You’re a Mathis, and we don’t have quitting in our blood. If anybody can figure this out and turn things around, it’s you. Is that little nigga still contacting you?”
“Sometimes. I block him, and then he calls from another number. I’ve stopped blocking them because it’s pointless. I don’t want to change my number at this point because it’s on all the resumes I’ve submitted.”
“Do you want me to go down there and have a conversation with him?”
Laughing, I shook my head, “No, Daddy. I got it, I promise. If it becomes too much, you already know that I’ll let y’all know. I’m sure once he gets a new girlfriend, he’ll forget all about me.”
At least that was what I was praying for.
Ray, while out there in the media living his best life, was still harassing me and begging me for another chance whenever he wasn’t preoccupied with one of the groupies who’d caught his attention.
He wasn’t calling as much, thankfully, but he was definitely still trying to see if there was a chance for me to take him back.
Unfortunately for me, he’d made it clear, privately to me and publicly in his interviews, that he wasn’t letting me go.
I had no clue as to why he thought I’d come back to him after everything we’d gone through, and the fact that the girl he cheated on me with was claiming she was pregnant.
But, clearly, in the land of delusion was where he chose to spend most of his time.
He’d caused me too much embarrassment for me to even think about spending a second hearing what he had to say.
For a while, I wanted to be mad at Logan’s ass for ensuring that the news about him cheating and the baby he had on the way landed on my desk, but I really wanted to thank her.
She saved me from far more heartache, even if her intentions weren’t in the right place.
Logan had always been my rival at the office, and we were always competing.
She knew I was with Ray and made sure I was assigned the job.
Now, she was sitting in my office, working with my clients, and living the life that I used to enjoy.
The bitch had played her game well, and I’d lost fair and square.
“Well, let’s not dwell too much on the past, baby. I’m going to whip up your favorite meal. You go get washed up and unpacked. I’ll be doing a Walmart order later this evening, so let me know if you need anything,” my mother said, smiling before kissing my father and disappearing into the kitchen.
Once I was inside my old room, I flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling above me.
It was still covered in old B2K posters and other various artists I was in love with back in the day.
As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I was torn between redecorating the room to make it feel more like my space and leaving it be because I didn’t plan to be in my parents’ home for too long.
A part of me felt that if I took the time to redecorate the room, I would end up staying much longer than I intended.
But, at the same time, how could I possibly thrive in a space that didn’t feel like mine?
It was a hard decision to make, and one that I felt I’d know what to do about when the time came.
For the moment, I was going to get rid of a few things that stood out, like the obnoxious number of posters and the hot pink lava lamp on the nightstand.
As I put everything into the large trash bags I grabbed from downstairs, I heard my phone buzzing on the nightstand.
Diving onto the bed so that I could grab it, I opened it with anticipation that it was good news.
These days, every time my phone rang, buzzed, or dinged, I hoped it was someone with a job offer.
Each time, I was disappointed, but the pride in me wouldn’t allow me to give up on myself and my dreams.
Looking at the phone, I saw it was a message from Zaveah.
She was inviting me to a ladies’ luncheon that might be good for networking.
I really didn’t have it in me to suck up to a bunch of women who thought they were better than everyone else because of their credentials or last names, but I was desperate, so that meant saying yes to every opportunity that came my way.
ME:
Yeah, count me in. Is there a dress code or anything I should know about?
ZAVEAH:
No, just come dressed to impress. I have a good feeling about this one, Ken. I think the connection you need to turn things around for you is going to be in the room.
ME:
I hope so! Thank you for inviting me, friend. How much do I owe you for the ticket? I know these events are expensive.
ZAVEAH:
Ken, don’t fucking play with me like that. You don’t need to worry about the cost. Just make sure you meet me there tomorrow, and come ready to shut the room down.
ME:
LOL, okay, friend. Thank you again!
That was a much better way for me to end the day.
I hoped that Zaveah’s intuition was right and that someone in that room would either have a job for me or know someone who did.
I’d worked since I was a sophomore in high school, and waking up every day with nothing to do was really beginning to take a toll on my mental health.
I was the type of person who needed to be busy.
When my hands and mind were idle, that was never a good thing.
Deciding to get up and figure out what I would wear to the luncheon tomorrow, I began going through the clothes I had packed in my room to find the perfect outfit.
I might’ve been desperate for a job, but I wasn’t going to look like it.
Nope, when I stepped into that room, I wanted everyone to be curious about who I was and how they could get some of my time.