Chapter Four

 

Nedra

 

When Jealousy Is a Four Letter Word And You're a Sailor

My drive home from Bullseye was a tense one. Every mile that brought me closer to my destination also brought my anger to a boil. I know that I shouldn’t have let my granny’s words get to me—that it was probably her intention to spur some action from me—but I couldn’t help it. Things were starting to make too much damn sense.

I raced my car down the street and punched at the remote for the garage. Seeing Chris’s truck parked in the driveway, as usual, further irritated me. Everything looked normal as fuck even though it was far from it.

My impatience almost caused me to drive into the lifting gate. Once parked inside the garage I repeatedly stabbed at the remote until the metal door began to reverse. The garage door wasn’t even down halfway before I was out of the car and into the house.

“CHRISTOPHER PHILLIPS?!”

I yelled his name at the top of my lungs with the slam of the door punctuating my anger-fueled outburst. I tossed my purse and keys on the side table by the door and flew through the bottom floor of the house like a tornado, scanning every room with the eye of a hawk, scouring for any sign of the object of my fury. Unsuccessful in my search, I stomped up the stairs with determination, muttering expletives to myself with every step.

“Where is this nigga? I know he here. His truck outside.”

I was once again a woman on a mission. This time, it wasn’t giddiness that fueled me but ire. I threw open every door in my path, even the closets. I was tripping, but my anger made me irrational.

When I reached the door to the guest bedroom that Chris had chosen to move into after his life-changing announcement two months earlier, I saw that it wasn’t quite closed but instead cracked a few inches. The reminder that he’d abandoned our marital bed and relocated in there boiled my blood, and I bent my knee and kicked the door open with all of the force I could muster. It flew back and slammed against the wall. Chris stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes wide with surprise and annoyance.

“Aye, what the fuck are you doing?” He relaxed his clenched fists and dropped his hands to the towel wrapped around his waist.

Realizing that he must have just stepped out of the shower in the en-suite bathroom, I was momentarily distracted by his naked torso and the droplets of water that beaded on his skin.

“Nedra!”

Chris’s brusque tone jolted me out of my reverie, and my anger returned full force.

One hand propped on my hip and the other reached out to point a finger in Chris’ face. “Who you fuckin’, huh?”

The tension dropped from his shoulders, and he heaved an irritated breath. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

“I’m not sleeping with anybody.”

That admission wasn’t good enough for me. I moved further into the room. “I know you fuckin’ lying, Chris! You used to want sex all the time, so if you ain’t touching me, you must be fuckin’ somebody. Who is it, huh?”

Another shake of his head and his face screwed tight with frustration. “I swear I—”

“Stop lying!” I didn’t want to hear him deny it again. Using both hands, I reared back and shove him in the chest. The move hardly moved him, but because he was already standing at the end of the bed, the backs of his knees hit the mattress and buckled. He dropped into a seated position at the edge of the bed and reached up to grab my wrists tightly.

“I’m not lying! I would never fuck somebody else while we’re married. I wouldn’t do that. You know that!”

I shook my head and tried to yank out of his grasp. I was so worked up, so angry, I could spit. My mind raced as I tried to pull away from him. “I know that you need it regularly, so who you gettin’ it from? It ain’t me. You won’t even look at me anymore. So, who you giving my dick to, huh?”

“Ned—” He sounded distressed but I didn’t care at that moment. I was heartbroken and desperate, and just the thought of the man I had loved since I was barely a teenager sleeping with someone who wasn’t me drove me crazy.

“Who, huh?!” My voice cracked and my eyes clouded with unshed tears and I dropped to my knees in front of him. I pressed my face into his lap, nuzzling his dick through the terry cloth material of his towel. His grip tightened around my wrists briefly before it loosened enough for me to finally pull free of his grasp.

“Come on, Ned. Don’t do this.” His protest sounded firm but the way he dropped his empty hands to the bed and gripped the cover was a contradiction.

I shot him a warning glare. “Shut up!” I snapped and pulled open the towel, revealing his quickly rising dick. When I wrapped my hand around the base and squeezed, he hissed.

“Who you giving my dick to?” I repeated the question as I continued to glare at him.

Chris stared down at me with hooded eyes and licked his lips. “Bab—Nedra—I swear I—ooh shit!”

He broke off on a grunt as I sucked his length into my mouth. I swallowed him down until I reached my fist then came back up and used my saliva to start pumping him to full stiffness.

He moaned in surrender. “Ned…”

I swallowed him down again, this time, removing my hand and aiming to put my nose in the curls in his lap. I’d almost made it when he hit the back of my throat, and I had to pull back up. Tears sprung to my eyes, and I gasped for a breath, jacking him aggressively. I wanted to hurt him even as I pleasured him.

“Who you letting choke on your shit, huh?”

At this point, I was talking to myself. Chris’ head was bent back, and he was twitching in my hands. I used the corner of my t-shirt to wipe the tears from my eyes and focused on my task, determined to prove a point. If I gave him everything he needed, he wouldn’t go looking for it elsewhere. If I kept his balls empty, he couldn’t empty them into someone who wasn’t me.

I bobbed my head up and down in his lap and used both of my hands to jack his dick simultaneously, employing a twisting motion similar to operating a pepper grinder. When his knees squeezed around me, I dropped one of my hands between his legs and tugged on his balls, knowing that the hint of pain would push his pleasure over the edge.

“Fuuuuuck!”

Almost immediately, his sack tightened in my hand and his dick swelled in my mouth. Then he exploded with a drawn-out moan, shooting into the back of my throat. I gulped down his spend, not letting a drop escape, just how I know he liked it. I held him in my mouth, sucking at a slower pace until he began to soften. I released him and used the abandoned towel to wipe my mouth and face.

The corners of my mouth were tight and my jaw was sore, but I sat back on my haunches and opened my mouth to speak.

“Who you letting swallow down our kids, huh?” I watched as he jerked his head forward and caught my gaze, his eyes filled with regret. He licked his lips, and my eyes followed the movement briefly. It hit me at that moment that we hadn’t kissed in quite a while, even before he told me that he wanted out of our union. How had that fact escaped my notice?

“Nobody but you baby; I swear.”

I narrowed my gaze at him, but he stared back, unblinkingly. His eyes were shiny and somewhat honest, but I was no longer sure if I could trust his word and that only served to piss me off even more. Finally, unable to continue looking in the face of the man who wanted to discard me like yesterday’s garbage, I curled my lip and pushed off the floor, exiting the room. I trudged down the hall and entered the master bedroom that I’d shared with Chris up until two months ago, slamming the door behind me. I stood in the middle of the room for a minute, just trying to get my bearings.

Nothing made sense anymore. I usually loved sucking Chris’s dick, but right then, I was disgusted with myself for doing it. With a heavy sigh, I went into the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth then I stripped out of my clothes and climbed into the middle of our bed.

I laid there waiting for sleep to come and when it didn’t, I thought back to what had just happened. Why did I let my granny get me riled up like that? I should have stopped listening to her after she told me about what was obviously an emotional affair. Because of that woman, I had come home in a rage and attacked my soon-to-be ex-husband and for all of that, I didn’t even feel better.

Chris’ insistence that he wasn’t sleeping with anyone else might have proved my granny wrong but if it was true, it only served to confuse me. If it wasn’t sex then that was just one more thing to check off on my list of reasons why he didn’t want me anymore. After minutes of racking my brain to think of something and coming up blank, I burst into frustrated tears.

What is it? What could it be?

I felt so lost and out of control. What had I done to make him give up on me?

Over my loud sobbing, I heard the bedroom door creak open and I tried to vainly hold in my cries so that Chris wouldn’t hear me from the hallway. That resulted in me jerking violently in the bed and my head started to throb from the suppressed emotions. I just couldn’t win.

Suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me back against a strong, solid chest. I immediately turned over and pressed my face into Chris’s neck, my sobs breaking free once more. He held me tightly, almost too tightly, but I needed that. Needed him. Needed to feel grounded and secure by the man who had been my anchor for so long. Needed to feel him wrapped around me like he would be if things were normal. I cried against his warm skin that still smelled of his favorite soap until I was exhausted and sleep finally overcame me.

♥♥♥♥

When You Have To Gather Your Own Damn Self

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I was in bed alone, save for the dull throbbing of my head, thanks to all of the crying the night before.

Last night…

Ugh. I rolled over onto my back and stared at the ceiling. Last night was a shit show. The way I came at Chris—I squeezed my eyes shut—I was embarrassed by my actions.

No more.

I had finally reached the point of reckoning. This man didn’t want me anymore, and I had to accept it. All of the energy I was spending on trying to hold on to my marriage could be better spent making sure I was going to be fine—mentally, emotionally, and financially—when the dust settled. My chest collapsed as I pushed out a cleansing breath. It was past time to get my shit together.

In the shower, I let the hot water rinse away all of my tension. I was done with all of the bullshit. It was draining, trying to appeal to the Chris I had initially fallen in love with. That man had disappeared a while back—without my knowledge—and so I’d been essentially playing old tricks on a new dog, which equated to banging my head against a brick wall. I sighed; that analogy right there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for my headache. I was so damn ready to not have to try anymore.

Oh.

A curtain of realization lifted over me and my eyes widened as I stared unseeingly at the shower wall. When Chris told me that he was filing for a divorce, he said that it was because we had grown apart and that we were both unhappy. I got so angry with him when he said that, I could have breathed fire. There was no way I was going to sit there and let him tell me what the fuck I was feeling.

But…now that I was thinking about it, though, maybe he wasn’t too far off. Over the past year or maybe even two, the relationship that Chris and I had cultivated throughout our marriage had felt…off. That zeal that I once had about being Christopher Phillip’s wife had just, kind of, faded away. There was no instant “aha” moment where he did something egregious that made me look at him differently. I just didn’t feel the same way about him as I used to.

Sure, some things had changed. I had begun to feel annoyance at how much time he was putting into the high school sports program. He stopped being as touchy-feely as he used to be. His kisses had stopped lighting my insides on fire. We both started to spend more time outside of the house and away from each other than we did in each other’s company.

Huh. I never really sat down and thought about all of the changes that were occurring between us. Apparently, though, Chris had. However, instead of seeing the direction that our relationship was heading and trying to steer the ship in the opposite direction, he shined a light down that path and illuminated the final destination.

Divorce town.

I turned my back to the shower head and let the spray pound soothingly against the back of my neck as I accepted my fate. What’s done was done. Did I want to be single again after spending so long being a part of a twosome? A married twosome, no less? Hell no! Was I about to be just that? Looked like it. The realization hurt but was also a little relieving, if I were being honest.

Shit. I hated to admit it but, Chris was right.

Clean and dry, I stood in the middle of my closet and stared down at my cell phone. The contacts were pulled up and my thumb hovered over the call button. If I made this call, there was no turning back. There was no undo button. It would be me, raising my white flag and saying “Yes, we’re going to do this”. I had no other alternative after last night. If I chose otherwise, my sanity was at stake.

I blew out a shaky breath and pressed the button. When the call connected, my throat was tight and I couldn’t parrot the greeting that I received.

“Nedra? Are you okay?” I could hear the concern in Shanice’s voice. I attempted to clear my throat, but the tears were there and weren’t going anywhere.

“Niecy, I know you…you said I didn’t have to call but I—” I broke off on a sob that I couldn’t hold in if my life had depended on it. Thankfully, my bestie knew what I was trying to say.

“You’re ready to move out?”

I nodded, though she couldn’t see me, and choked out a mournful, “Yes.”

I heard rustling on her end of the phone followed by a short, “I’m on my way.”

I wanted to feel bad about her decision to come over. In fact, I even tried to fix my mouth to form the words to tell her she didn’t have to come. It was Wednesday; she was at work, and it wasn’t even 10 a.m. The words never came out because all I felt was relief that I wouldn’t have to do it alone. She gave me her estimated time of arrival and hung up the phone.

I needed to get up and get moving. I wanted to be gone before Chris got home from work. The tears were still flowing but my sobs had subsided for the moment, so I headed back into the bathroom to throw some moisturizer on my skin then pulled on some leggings and a tank top before going downstairs and into the garage. I grabbed the whole roll of commercial-sized trash bags that we kept for yard work and reached into a plastic tote to find masking tape and a marker. We didn’t have any boxes since I made it a point to break them down and recycle them as soon as they crossed the threshold. Just as I stepped back into the house, I heard the doorbell chime.

Shanice stood on the other side of the door, holding two bottles of wine and an orange and white striped paper bag. “I brought you a honey butter chicken biscuit and some sweet dessert wine to wash it all down.” My face crumbled and she pulled me into a hug, smashing the large roll of trash bags against my chest, almost painfully. “Come on, girl, you know I got you.” I nodded and she released me. I held up the roll of trash bags.

“We’ll fill up my luggage first then move to these. First up is my closet. I have to make sure I take every stitch of clothing with me.”

Shanice nodded and after stopping in the kitchen for napkins and a couple of bottles of water, we headed up to my bedroom. I deposited my wares onto the bed and went to get my luggage out of the closet in the guest room. We hadn’t done much traveling over the years, so I only had two carry-ons, but they would have to do.

Back in my room, I saw that Shanice had already begun to pull my clothes out of the closet and lay them across my bed. Both bottles of wine and the sandwich from my favorite fast food spot were sitting on my dresser, and Shanice had music streaming from her phone. I started laughing when I realized what was playing.

“Twerk music? Really, Niecy?”

Shanice came out of my closet with her arms full of clothes on hangers and gave me a matter-of-fact look. “Yes. We needed something upbeat and what’s more upbeat than twerk music?”

I shrugged. “You’re right. You can’t isolate your ass cheeks to a four-part harmony.”

She laughed. “If you say so. Go ahead and eat your sandwich while I finish pulling your clothes out of this closet.”

I nodded and unwrapped my food then unzipped both suitcases. I laid the suitcases on the floor by the end of the bed and alternated between bites of my sandwich and filling the suitcases with the contents of my drawers. By the time I finished one, I was halfway through with the other.

I zipped up my stuffed luggage and moved them out into the hallway. I then grabbed the roll of trash bags and handed a few to Shanice. “I don’t have garment bags so these will have to do for now.” I pulled a bag down over a group of clothes and made a hole in the bottom of the bag, pulling the hooks of the hangers through. After tying a knot with the flaps of the bag, I held it up and showed Shanice my handiwork. She nodded and we got to work bagging up the rest of my clothes.

Soon, my side of the closet was empty, save for my shoes, bags, and holsters that were on the floor. I tossed all of that in a bag as well, and we started loading up my car with my clothes. We laid the clothes on hangers in the backseat and put the suitcases and filled bags in the trunk.

Back upstairs, I removed all of my hygiene and makeup products from under the bathroom cabinet and in the drawers. All I really had, in terms of makeup, was about a dozen lipsticks and a handful of lip pencils. I didn’t fool with makeup too much, but I had been blessed with “soup coolers” and I liked to accentuate them with a variety of colors.

I fit as much as I could in my toiletry bag and put the rest in the plastic shopping sacks I kept in a drawer for the trash can. Last but not least, I used my step stool to grab the box from the top of the closet that held my three handguns. Chris had returned them after a couple of days when he no longer feared that I would shoot him. Little did he know, I still wanted to shoot his ass, but I was more clear-headed now and wouldn’t dare. Unless I could be guaranteed a female judge who had been through an ugly divorce, it just wasn’t worth it.

With my bathroom items secured in the front seat of my car, I walked through my house and snatched up all odds and ends that I wanted to take with me—a sweater thrown across the back of the couch, a pair of sandals sitting by the back door, a Franklin ball cap hanging on the back of a doorknob, my wedding rings sitting in a bowl on my nightstand…

I stopped mid-reach. No. Those didn’t need to come with me. I scooped them up and carried them into the guest room, placing them on the nightstand. Chris could do whatever he wanted with them, but I had no need for them anymore. I backed out of the room and pulled the door shut. That felt much harder than simply putting rings on a dresser. When I turned around, I saw Shanice coming up the stairs.

“Hey, girly, you ready to jet?” She smiled at me and eyed the door behind me curiously.

I released a breath and nodded. “Without boxes, there isn’t too much I can take, so for now, yeah, I’m ready.” She hugged me then turned me around and nudged me toward the stairs. At the bottom, she grabbed the bag she’d filled with all of my snack items from the pantry and refrigerator and we left.

As I backed out of the garage and down the driveway, I looked up at what had been my home for the last ten years. I’d always thought that the day I moved out would be the day Chris and I decided to become landlords and rent the place out. This trip that I was taking wasn’t even in my worst nightmare.

Once at Shanice’s bungalow, we unloaded my car and put all of my things into her second bedroom. By the time we finished, it was almost four in the afternoon, and I was mentally exhausted and starving. I dropped down onto the couch since Shanice was draped across the loveseat.

“Niecy, let me know what you want for rent, okay?”

Shanice lifted her head and glared at me. “First of all, bitch, you don’t even have a job. What are you going to pay me with? Cake?”

I frowned and clutched my chest. “That stung, hoe.”

She rolled her eyes. “Second of all, what kind of friend would I be if I charged you rent on a home that’s paid for?”

I shrugged. “I know Daddy Byron flexed his grown man bank account and squeezed some coins out of his inheritance to pay off your mortgage, but you still have expenses. Property taxes, utilities, and such.”

“Girl, shut up.”

“Niecy—”

“Shut. Up. You are getting a divorce, Nedra. Don’t worry about anything over here and I mean that. Besides, you still have bills at your house that you have to pay, right?”

I dropped against the arm of the couch. “Yes, girl. After I lost my job, Chris took over the mortgage, but I still pay all of the utilities and cover the streaming services.”

“Are you kidding me? You pay all of that even after you were laid off? Isn’t that like paying a second mortgage?”

“It’s a couple of hundred cheaper, but he also covers the taxes and insurance so what he pays makes up at least two-thirds of the expenses.”

“Still…”

I shook my head. “I pay the stuff that’s in my name. I can’t risk leaving it for him to forget about, or even purposely neglect to pay; besides, it’s really not that bad. The severance package I got was very generous.” Equaling almost two years’ worth of my salary, it was beyond generous.

Up until a few months ago, I had worked for the same company since I was a senior in college. I started as a sort of a girl Friday and worked my way up to being an executive assistant to the regional manager. A year ago the CEO filed for bankruptcy, and six months ago, the company was bought out. Only the positions of a few in management were secure, but everyone else was laid off in the restructuring. I’d been blessed to have a direct manager who loved me like I was his own daughter, and he made sure to pad the hell out of my pockets.

“Yeah, but you’ll have to give up half of whatever’s left in the divorce.”

I shook my head and grimaced as the hunger started to make my stomach hurt. “Actually, according to the lawyer I’ve hired, I might not have to. If Chris agrees, we can each walk away with whatever money we have in our separate bank accounts. Plus,” I sat up, “I’d taken half of my severance and put it in an account in my granny’s name. So, no matter what, I’ll have something to rebuild on.”

Shanice raised her eyebrows. “Damn, that was smart.”

“My mama always told me to keep some money on the side that my man doesn’t know about. I always had a little bit of my check going into a high-yield savings account, but when I got that severance, I could hear my mama’s voice telling me to put some of it up.”

“I know that will help you. Ms. Rose knew what she was talking about.”

“Hell, she oughta with all of the men she ran through.”

Shanice laughed loudly. “Ms. Rose is a pimp! Always has been.”

I smirked. “Always will be.” The one consistent lesson my mama always tried to teach me was fuck niggas, get money. She was so disappointed in me when I settled down with Chris that she didn’t talk to me for the entire year after we were married.

“Maybe my mama had a point. Maybe I need to stop giving my heart to these niggas and just be a hoe.”

“Uh…” Shanice shook her head slowly. “That’s not where I was going at all.”

“No, I’m serious. I didn’t get to have a hoeing stage anyway because I was too wrapped up in Chris. But now, it’s my time. I can make my mama proud. From now on, I ain’t got no love for these niggas.”