The One He Desires

Journee Marie Gavin

It’s crazy to me that one minute a man can sweep you off your feet and then turn around and slam you on your back.

That’s exactly how I feel right now as my thoughts spin like the wheel that determines the numbers necessary to win the lottery.

I can’t believe I’m in this nightmare. Nothing could have prepared me for it, and I definitely didn’t see it coming.

“Girl, I got cheated on by a man who pledged his undying love and devotion to me days before. How?”

I take a large gulp of the dark liquor that tastes like oil going down, but I’m too consumed with my situation to care. My mind returns to the moment that led to my current drinking binge.

I’m not sure if I’m beat to be this man’s ride or die. It’s dirty as hell in here. Look at this nasty phone. I wish I had my purse so I could sanitize this thing. I might catch an ear fungus or something. Yuck.

“You’re too pretty to be frowning like that.” The deep and unfamiliar made my head dart up as my eyes met someone who’s not the man I’m here to see.

“Excuse me?” My lip curls as my eyes pinched at this man’s audacity.

My hand wrapped tighter around the phone, and I pressed it firmly against my ear to hear his reply.

“I was gonna head back, but you forced me to prolong my return. Who are you here for?”

“Why?”

The unknown man smirked as his eyes sparkled with humor, and somehow, he disarmed me without knowing it.

“I might want to check him for having your pretty ass down here stressing. You don’t belong here.”

Trust me, I already know.

“I’m here for Brian Noble,” I said with a what’s it to you tone.

The man shook his head and chuckled, but the humor didn’t meet his eyes, and my brows hike as I waited to see what he’s gonna say next.

“Hm. Yeah, you definitely don’t belong here wasting your time on that nigga.”

“Who are you to tell me where I belong?”

“Jamarion. Look, I gotta bounce, but make sure BN tells you about how he stepped out on you since he’s been here.

I ain’t a hater, but I can’t let my new sister go out like this over a nigga like that.

Be easy.” With that, Jamarion hung up the phone and walked with a confident gait toward the officer waiting at the door, just as Brian walked out the door and toward me.

“What do you mean? I don’t understand the question.” Zuri frowns as she watches me pace around like a crazy woman.

Zuri Lockhart is not only my best friend but also a therapist, although she is trying to tell me she’s not mine because of the conflict of interest. But to hell with that.

I need a professional, and she’s home field advantage in my book.

Nobody else is capable of dealing with me and my foolishness. So, Zuri is stuck with me.

“He’s been in jail for fourteen business days, and like the dutiful girlfriend I am, I took my ass down there to see what he needed.”

That thought causes me to pause and take another healthy gulp of the liquor I’m cradling like an infant in my arms.

“Uh, why don’t you hand me the bottle and take a seat so we can discuss this rationally?”

A loud, unladylike burp escapes my mouth before I have a chance to answer, causing a small giggle. I wipe my mouth with the back of my free hand and continue my pacing and information dump.

“Imagine my surprise when I show up, and the inmate next to that sorry sack of shit tells me that the man I’m there to see cheated on me. How did I get cheated on by a man in jail?”

I roll my eyes hard enough for them to get stuck as I turn the bottle up and guzzle the rest of the liquid without a pause.

I have been drinking every day since finding out that my man waited until he was behind bars to step out on me.

I have so many questions, but shock and awe kept me from uttering a single one a few days ago.

I left the jail stunned as if time had been frozen.

I found myself giving the man next to me more time than the man who was supposed to be mine.

The session with Zuri was mandatory after that visit because that mofo has me messed up.

With each passing day, I have been contemplating whether I should go back and cuss him out or let it ride.

“He cheated? How?” My eyes meet Zuri's, and a giggle escapes at the sight of her contorted face and deep frown.

“That’s a good fucking question. Like, who did you cheat with, and how? Got me out here worried about him, and he’s getting his dick wet. No decorum or anything. I swear these men ain’t worth two nickels rubbed together.”

I continue pacing as my neck and face heat at the thought of my ex’s actions. His raggedy ass waltzed out there like everything was good. The wildest part is that he let me find out about his indiscretions from someone else.

“Hm. Come sit with me so we can process this. Have you eaten today? It’s only ten, and you’re consuming liquor like it’s water.”

Zuri’s voice is too sweet and compassionate as I spin on my heels ready to give her a piece of my mind.

But either my movements are too fast for my brain to catch up with, or I’ve drunk too much alcohol, because my stomach immediately protests.

I slap my hand over my mouth when bile rises up like a volcano as my eyes bounce left and right before I run on wobbly legs to the exit.

I make it just inside the bathroom when vomit gushes out of my mouth like a geyser.

My stomach jerks and pulls, and I’m unable to stop the bile as my body reminds me that drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t the best decision.

“Hey, Benny. Can you send someone up to clean the bathroom outside of my office? Thank you.” Zuri’s voice sounds in my ears, and my face flushes with heat.

Seconds later, dry heaves cause my stomach to tighten, and it’s a welcome relief, as nothing else comes out, which allows me to stand upright. I turn to look at my best friend with misty eyes as her melancholy gaze hits me like a tidal wave.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter in a shaky and raw voice, thanks to the events moments ago.

“One good thing about you rocking your pixie is I didn’t have to hold your hair back. Feel better?”

I shake my head and walk to the sink so I can cup my hands to rinse my mouth. Thankfully, none of the vomit has gotten on my clothes. But a few splatters are on my shoes, so I slip them off and go about removing the evidence of my bad decision.

“Let’s go back to my office before the custodians come to clean this up, unless you want them to cuss you out for making such a nasty mess.”

Without a word, I finish what I’m doing and then follow my best friend back to her office. My stomach is still queasy, but the urge to vomit is gone. What I didn’t know at this moment is that the worst day of my life would introduce me to the best thing that ever happened to me.