14. Kim #2
Then her eyes slowly dropped toward my hands before lifting back to my face. And suddenly I realized exactly what type of conversation this was about to be.
“I wanted to ask you something,” she said smoothly.
“What’s up?”
Alisha leaned back slightly before casually flashing that massive wedding ring while crossing her arms.
“How exactly do you know my husband?”
She was working my damn nerves, not because she asked. But because of how she asked it was like she already knew something. Part of me wanted to be petty so bad right then. I wanted to hurt her the same way I was hurting. I wanted to tell her every damn thing.
But then I thought about Deuce and how he would absolutely lose his mind if I fucked up his marriage.
So instead, I smiled calmly. “I don’t know your husband.”
Alisha's eyes narrowed slightly.
“The first time I seen him was when I came to your shop.” I added casually while lifting my drink. “He is handsome though.”
The second those words left my mouth I knew I crossed the line intentionally. Because immediately Alisha's whole expression changed.
“You think so?” she smirked.
I shrugged lightly. “I mean…” Then I smiled. “Can’t act like your man ugly.”
Milan damn near choked beside me sensing the tension. Part of me enjoyed pushing Alisha buttons. Alisha stared at me then suddenly she laughed.
“You know what’s funny?” she asked.
“What?”
“You trying real hard to sound innocent. Women who don’t know married men usually don’t compliment them like that.” Alisha snapped.
I leaned back slowly. “And women secure in their marriage usually don’t interrogate strangers in restaurants.”
Milan looked like she wanted to disappear. Meanwhile me and Alisha stared each other down across that booth. I finally understood why Deuce loved her, because she wasn’t weak at all.
Then Alisha smiled again. “You know what?”
“What?”
“You got the look.”
That confused me slightly.
“What look?”
“The type of woman that think being chosen by a nigga make them special. But being chosen don’t mean shit without a ring.” Alish let me know while holding up her hand with her big ass wedding ring.
I refused to let her think she won.
I smirked slightly. “Maybe your husband just got good taste.”
The second those words left my mouth, Alisha stood up so fast the table shook slightly and before I could fully react, she threw a glass of ice water directly in my face. Cold water soaked my hair, makeup, and dress. The entire restaurant gasped. I was too shocked to even move.
Cold water dripped down my face, soaking my hair and running down the front of my dress while the entire restaurant stared. Alisha stood over me breathing hard as hell. She looked ready to tear a hole in my ass.
“Stay the FUCK away from my husband,” she snapped loud enough for half the restaurant to hear.
“Alisha…”
“No,” she cut me off pointing directly in my face. “Cause clearly you got me fucked up.”
Everybody around us got quiet. Forks paused and conversations stopped. The whole scene was fucking embarrassing.
“The next time?” she continued stepping closer. “It’s gone be more than water hitting your face.”
Milan looked like she wanted security immediately while I just sat there dripping wet trying not to completely lose my temper too. A part of me wanted to snatch Alisha right across that damn table. The other part understood exactly why she was angry.
“This my last fucking warning,” Alisha snapped. “You better fucking google me and figure out who the fuck I am.”
The whole restaurant stayed dead silent.
Then she leaned down slightly closer. “Don’t let this pretty face fool your ass.” Then just like that, she grabbed her purse and walked off.
She walked away with her head held high, no fear, no hesitation or embarrassment.
She meant every damn word she said. When she disappeared toward the front of the restaurant, whispers started immediately around us.
People staring and judging, exactly the type of attention I hated.
I grabbed napkins angrily wiping water from my face while trying to hold onto what little dignity I had left.
Then Milan sighed beside me. “You never told me Deuce was married.”
Immediately my head snapped toward her. “What?”
“I don’t blame her.” Milan said while shrugging.
“Excuse me?”
Milan folded her arms while looking at me. “Kim… if you are messing with somebody's husband, what exactly do you expect?”
That felt like a slap in the face, because instead of Milan being on my side as my friend she was judging me instead.
“You don’t know shit about my situation,” I snapped, grabbing my purse.
“But I know enough.” She replied.
“Whatever.”
“Kim…”
“No,” I interrupted angrily. “Everybody always got something to say like this shit easy.”
Milan's expression softened slightly. “I’m just saying maybe she is not the villain here.”
That statement pissed me off all over again.
Even after getting water thrown in my face publicly, I still ended up feeling like the other woman, the outsider and the problem.
Without another word, I stormed out of the restaurant.
Heels clicking hard against the floor while everybody stared.
By the time I made it outside into the Detroit night air I realized I was getting tired of losing.