Tears on My Pillow 2 (9 page)

February 8
th
, 2014

Saturday

Anjela

                   Jakari just text me saying he is on the way. I’m nervous but for once, I feel like I am the one in control. I jump when he knocks on my apartment door. I check my hair and freshen up my lip gloss in the mirror that is hanging on the wall over the couch one last time before opening the door.

                   I open the door and step back, so that he can come in. I get pissed as soon as I open the door for him because even after the way he fucked me and left me, I am still very much attracted to his fine ass. He got my mouth watering from the way he looks in his black leather waist length coat, black skully, black jeans, and Timbs. His dick print is on point too, I must add.

                   I slowly lock the door behind him. I take in a deep breath and try to prolong looking into his green eyes for as long as possible. I have to be strong no matter what he says, I think to myself. I finally turn around to face him and discover that he has already made himself comfortable on the couch. “What do you want to talk about?”

                   “Anjela, straight up, you need to have an abortion. I’ll pay-”

                   I cut his ass off at the pass. “Oh, you gonna pay but not for an abortion! That’s out of the question, so I am glad you got that out ya system,” I snap.

                   He looks down at the floor and interlocks his fingers together, while leaning forward on his elbows, which are propped on each of his legs. He is deep in thought, I guess, contemplating his next move. “Seriously, Anjela, I’m married. I love my wife and I’m not going to leave her,” he says, looking up at me like these things are going to immediately make me see things his way. I begin to laugh hysterically. “Motherfucker, I been figured that out! As long as she plays nice with my, I mean our baby, then we will all get along fine.”

                   “Look, there can’t be any baby for her to be alright with. That is just NOT an option. If my wife finds out about this baby, she will divorce me and I can’t have that!”

                   “What does that have to do with me and our baby? I think the time to think about your marriage was before you cheated with me.” I can see that he is getting frustrated because he is not getting the answers that he wants. He is definitely trying to remain cool. He probably thinks there is something he can do or say to make me change my mind, but he will soon find out he’s very wrong about that.

                   “Please stop saying, our baby! I am not your baby’s father!”

                   “Jakari, this conversation is over! You’re getting too loud and it’s making me nervous.”

                  “I’m sorry Anjela,” he says in a much lower tone. “How much will it cost to make this go away?”

                   “You’re a professor, so I am really hoping you are just acting stupid. I already told you that this is not about money.”

                   “Then why are you doing this?”

                   “You played with my heart because you could, so now I am having your baby because I can,” I say and wink my eye at him, just to get under his skin. I briefly feel good because I am so tired of being raked over the coals by men. I bend over backwards and forwards for them, and they just use me and walk away without a second thought.

                   I get nervous when he stands up in front of the couch and balls both his hands into fists. I can see that he is squeezing his fists together hard as hell because his hands are trembling. I think I may have pushed him a little too far because he is now walking towards me.

                   “So, you mean to tell me that you are going to ruin my life and set a baby up to be fatherless because you feel like it?”

                   “Fatherless?” I ask, confused as hell.

                   “You damn right because I am not going to have anything to do with the little fucker!” he yells. Jakari bends down so quick, I barely knew what was going on, and flips over my wooden coffee table. Magazines, coasters, and mail fly everywhere.

                   “What the hell!” I holler. He rushes up to me, grabs my neck, and forcefully pushes me back up against the wall. My head hits the wall with a loud thud. I actually feel a little disoriented.

                   He is squeezing my neck so hard that he is cutting off my airway, so I can’t breathe. My hands fly up and I try to peel his fingers from around my neck but of course, he is too strong. I start to swing, trying to connect with his face, hoping that would cause him to let go but I can’t reach him. My eyes begin to water as I look at him and see that he has gone to another place. His normally olive green eyes have now darkened to an emerald green. They have so much rage in them. His lips are curled into a sneer. I have never seen this side of him before and at this moment, I wish I still hadn’t.
This fool is really going to strangle me to death
, I think to myself while making one last ditch effort to punch him in his face. OHMYGOD OHMYGOD OHMYGOD please don’t let me die like this. Please God! The tears start to run down my face as the pain and the fear of dying take over.

                   All of a sudden, just when I am about to black out, he lets go. He turns around and walks towards the door. He kicks an end table as he walks by, causing it to slam into a wall. The lamp that was sitting on the end table hits the floor and shatters. I fall to the floor holding my neck and taking in as much air as I possibly can. I want to yell something after him but I am to scared, so I just sit silently until he walks out of my apartment and slams the front door. I thank God for hearing my silent prayer and sparing my life.

                   Once I catch my breath, I leap up and race to my door to lock it. I can’t believe that just happened. He has never been aggressive like that with me before but I guess he was showing me how I am currently making him feel. I know he feels the noose tightening around his own neck as he came to the realization that I am going to have this baby.

                   I go in my room, and drop down on my bed and begin to cry. I surmised that Jakari’s reaction would not be a positive one, but I am not going to lie and say that I wasn’t hoping he would calm down, once he got use to the fact that he is going to be a dad. He literally flipped out today. He didn’t even ask me when I was due or anything. I mean, all he seems to care about is his wife.

                   I think back to when I initially put my plan together and remember how excited I was. When Jakari and I first met, he stated how much he wanted to have kids and all the things he would do with them. I know he was probably referring to kids with his wife, but oh well. He should have kept his dick between her legs then. When I finally got him to agree to a meeting with me, I knew he wasn’t going to hit it without a rubber, so I planned ahead. I stopped by CVS and purchased an oral medicine syringe so I could take matters into my own hands. I was banking on the fact that after we had sex, he would throw his condom away in my trash. He did and that was his mistake. I retrieved the condom and implanted his sperm in my vagina, and the rest is history.

                   I don’t know what I am going to do but I do know that I am going to keep my baby, and he or she will be a Roberson, whether Jakari likes it or not! I roll over on my back and place my hands on my stomach. “It might just be the two of us but I will love you so much, you won’t notice,” I say to my baby. My tears escape me in the form of huge sobs. I roll over and bury my face in my bed and scream until my throat is sore on the inside.

February 8
th
, 2014

Saturday

Jakari

                   I walk out of Anjela's apartment seeing nothing but red. I hate that I put my hands on her because my mother sure raised me better than that. I sit in my car replaying everything that just happened in my mind. This wench really wants to go through with having a fucking baby that she basically got out the trash. This bitch really stole my sperm. What the fuck kind of shit is that? That’s some sick, creepy, desperate shit! Then, she has the nerve to look surprised when I say I won't be a part of this bastard’s life. I punch the steering wheel and fling my head back hard into the headrest. I can’t believe the chick, whose pussy was far from something to write home about, is the one who ends up pregnant! Damn, I tell you my luck sucks. Let me go ahead and get out of Springfield cause I see the goons lurking.

                   I have never been this much out of control. I am used to chicks doing whatever I say, when I say, and how I say. At this point, it seems like the only one I am still running is Azia's ass. Chan won’t let Qia breathe, Kelly is trippin, Anjela done misplaced what little mind she had to begin with, and Qia has become Ms. Independent. All this shit is new to me and I don't like it. I have to find some way to turn all this crap around before I end up losing Qia.

                   I get home and walk up to my front door, and instantly want to turn around and haul ass in the other direction. I hear Confessions 2 by Usher blaring through the door. He is singing everything I am currently feeling. “Just when I thought I said all I could say, my chick on the side said she got one on the way.”

                   I put my key in the lock and turn it. I push the door open, not knowing what the hell I am walking into. Why the fuck is this song on, blaring through the surround sound, at the exact minute I step up to the door? Did Anjela contact Qia that quick and tell her about her baby? Is this Qia's hint to me that shit is about to go down? I turn around and slowly close the door as Usher says, “Damn near cried when I got that phone call. I'm so throwed and I don't know what to do but to give you part 2 of my confessions.”

                   “You ain't neva lied Ush,” I mumble to myself as I lock the top and bottom locks on the door. I think about leaving the door unlocked for a second, in case I need to make a break for it. I begin to walk down the hallway that leads to our bedroom when I spot Qia in the kitchen, mopping the floor. She has her back to the hallway so she doesn't see me approaching. Suddenly, she stops and starts singing along with Usher. “Now this gon' be the hardest thing I think I ever had to do, got me talkin' to myself askin' how I'm gon' tell you, 'bout that chick on part 1 I told ya'll I was creepin' with, creepin' with, said she's 3 months pregnant and she's keepin' it.
”

                  
I shake my head as I process the words to the song. I'm like, damn nigga, why you snitching? She begins to wind her hips to the beat of the song with the mop handle between her legs and that certainly grabs my attention. My mind is lifted from the dark place it is in. Her fat ass in those itty bitty, tight white spandex shorts with a piece of each ass cheek hanging out the bottom has my full attention.

                   Qia starts twirling her hips and then begins popping her ass. I continue walking towards her without taking my eyes off of her backside. I walk up behind her and wrap my hands around her waist, not knowing what to expect. If she knows my secret, then I am pretty sure she is going to clock my ass but hopefully, this is just all a coincidence. She jumps a little and spins around to face me as Usher continues to sing. “The first thing that came to mind was you, second thing was how do I know if it's mine and is it true, third thing was me wishin' that I never did what I did, how I ain't ready for no kid and bye bye to our relationship.”

                   “Jakari, what the fuck?! Have you lost your mind?!” she yells and pushes me in my chest.

                  
Oh shit! Here we go,
I think to myself. I can’t respond because I don’t know what to say. She has every right to want to fuck me up. Bitches work quick! Anjela is going to regret this shit though. Mark my words.

                   “Take your damn shoes off! You know I don’t play about that and I just vacuumed the carpets!” she screams over the music.

                   I relax as I comprehend what she is talking about. Damn, this shit got a nigga paranoid. I laugh. “I’m sorry baby.” I take my shoes off, and go and place them by the front door on the mat where they belong. When I came in, I was so focused on why she was playing Confessions, I forgot about her ‘no shoes in the house’ rule.

                   When I come back into the kitchen, she turns around and says, “Now where were we?”  I put my arms back around her waist. She bends forward a little and presses her behind back into my wood and begins to grind on it. I say a silent prayer, thanking God that she doesn't appear to have any hidden agenda for playing this song. I begin to kiss and suck on her neck as she continues to grind on me. I hold her hips a little tighter thinking about how I can't bear to lose her. She is my everything.

                   She drops the mop but the music is so loud, we don't hear it when it makes contact with the floor. She stands up straight, and lifts her arms into the air and pops her ass on my hardening muscle. I suck on her earlobe for a minute before loudly whispering into her ear, “Give me a private dance.”

                   Qia loves to dance so this is right up her alley. She turns around and smiles a sexy but devilish smile, before taking a couple of steps towards the kitchen table. She pulls a chair from underneath the table and gestures for me to have a seat. I am more than happy to oblige. Once I am seated in the chair, Qia straddles me. She lowers herself into my lap and starts doing this dance called the tic toc. This shit is hella sexy. I feel my muscle growing as I get lost in the rhythmic but jerky motion of her hips.

                   She stands up, turns her back to me, and straddles me again. Now, she is twerking like her life depends on it. Ass is flying everywhere. She is popping her behind in my face and I am enjoying every minute of it. I start slapping her ass with my hand while imagining I am using something else.

                   She takes a couple of steps forward, so she is no longer straddling me. She starts shaking just her behind. She begins to lean forward and continues to shake as she touches her toes. Qia squats down, bounces one ass cheek at a time, and my mind is blown. My wife is so got damn sexy. She gets on her hands and knees and starts popping her ass again. I readjust the hard on forming in my pants. She looks back at me as she lifts up her right leg and pops her pussy. I lick my lips and think about what I want to do to her.

                   Beyoncé ends up coming on so Qia hops up and backs up until she is straddling me again, and starts doing the uh oh dance. She is looking back at it and the whole nine. She plops down in my lap, breathing hard and laughing. She gives me a quick peck on the lips and yells, “Did you like your private dance?”

                   I nod my head up and down. “Check out how much.” I guide her hand down to my rigid meat.

                   She giggles and stands up. “You’re so nasty. Let me go turn this music off because I need to talk to you.”

                   I automatically get that sinking feeling and determine that certain death is imminent. Nothing good ever comes from that statement. I, reluctantly, follow her into the bedroom. Each step I take towards our bedroom has me feeling like I am approaching the electric chair.

                   She turns the music off just as I enter the room. “What's up?” I have to force myself to ask.

                   She leans up against the dresser. “How do you feel about cheating?”

                   “What!” My eyes damn near pop out of my head. I know she didn't just really ask me about cheating. What the fuck is going on? No woman ever asks shit like this unless she is bout to catch your ass on some shit!

                   “Come on J! I am trying to have a serious conversation. Please answer my question.”

                  “Why are you asking me that?” I inquire, trying to buy myself some more time.

                   “Don't answer my question with a question,” she says, folding her arms over her chest. “I so hate it when you do that.”

                   “I don't really have an opinion on that topic since it is something that neither of us has ever done to each other.”

                   “Nigga please,” Qia says rather loudly.

                   I freeze. Okay, this is it. Here it comes. I knew this was a set up for something! What portion of my drama has made it back to her? I bet you it's that damn baby shit! Lord or it may be Qisha! Oooh, if Kelly called her!  See, I knew she was setting the tone with Confessions!

                   She puts her hands on her hips. “You know damn well you have an opinion! Do you think there is such a thing as emotional cheating?”

                   I begin breathing again. Whew! I snatch a Kleenex out of the box on my nightstand and dab the sweat on my forehead. Alright, let me answer this woman so we can move on from this topic. “Definitely!”

                   “Okay, elaborate please,” she says, attempting to widen her sexy slanted eyes but them darn things are so slanted, they don't widen by much.

                   Damn Qia! What the hell you want? A five-hundred-word essay. “On what, love?”

                   “Gracious Jakari! You have me feeling like I am pulling teeth here. Why can't you just have an adult conversation with your wife?” She rolls her eyes up to the ceiling.

                   “What are you asking me Qia?” I ask, trying to hide my frustration. I don't know what she is getting at and if I learned one thing, it is to be careful how you answer these out of the blue questions women come up with. Somehow, you end up opening a trap door with your responses.

                   “Which is worse, emotional or physical cheating?” she asks.

                   “Qia, what really is the point of this conversation? I'm not doing either and neither are you, so why are we wasting our time talking about this irrelevant nonsense?”

                   Qia just stares at me and shifts her weight to her right foot. I sigh. “Damn woman! Alright, um, I would have to say that emotional cheating is the bigger sin of the two. Now, can we please change the subject to something more entertaining, like me hitting it from the back over there in front of the mirror?” I smile, hoping that I have given her something else to think about.

                   “Why is emotional cheating the worst?” she asks, unfazed by my proposition.

                   This conversation is getting old, real quick. Qia has never grilled me like this before. What the fuck?! Is she freakin leading up to something or what? At this point, I am ready to shoot my damn self. “Because an emotional attachment beats a physical one any day. You can be at work, three thousand miles away, or in bed with a totally different person, and if you are emotionally attached to someone else, they will be on your mind. Thoughts of them will keep you loyal, even when you shouldn't be or don't want to be. Thoughts of them will cause you to smile at the craziest times. Thoughts of them will have your body tingling in all the right spots, while you are trying to concentrate on something else. Whereas, the physical attraction is forgotten as soon as that person is out of your sight and can be turned off like a light switch. Now, are we done?”

                   “This movie Qisha and I watched today got me to thinking about cheating and the different reasons why people do it. So, I just wanted to hear what you thought about it,” she says, sauntering over to me. She bends down and envelopes my lips with her soft plump ones. I fucking swear, all this over a movie. I lie back on the bed and let her take control.