As tears streamed down my face, I quickly attempted to wipe them. I hated crying, even when my heart was shattered. Crying just made me feel weak. “Ahkeem, you don’t mean that.”
“The fact that you had the audacity to judge yo mama for doing what she did with your sister after you did something similar is fucking beyond me, son! You killed my fucking seed,then smiled up in my face like wasn’t shit going on! Do you know how fucking vile and sick that shit is?!”
“I know, Ahkeem!” I cried. “Please just talk to me!”
He took two steps toward me, backing me against the wall of the kitchen. “Now you wanna fucking talk?!” he snarled down at me. “After you did what you did and hid it from me for two years?! Now you wanna have a conversation?! Fuck you, Jazzlyn!”
“I made a mistake, Ahkeem!”
“No!Imade a fucking mistake! I trusted you with everything! So much so, you got my fucking last name!” He held up his left hand, shoving his wedding band in my face as a reminder. “Do you even understand the significance of this shit? Or are our vows only important when it’s convenient for you?!”
At this point, I broke down. He was seeing red and wasn’t in any headspace to hear me out. My sobs heaved out of me as he remained before me with no remorse… not even an ounce of it. “You killed my fucking baby, Jazzlyn! You ain’t even have the decency to tell me you were pregnant so we could try to figure it out together! You’re selfish, inconsiderate, and grimy as fuck for being able to keep this secret for so long! Ain’t no telling what else you keeping from me! Do you even want kids eventually, or was that a lie too so you could keep me?!”
“Baby, I do! I made a mistake! Just hear me out!”
He scoffed. “Yeah ‘cause a conversation only matters on your time… right? I’m so fucking done with you, yo.”
He brushed past me and waltzed to our bedroom. In hysterics, I rushed after him, grabbing his shirt in hopes of having him stop. He whipped around with his nose flared and fists clenched. It was like he didn’t even know me anymore.
“Quit fucking grabbing on me,” he gritted. “Just let me pack my shit so I can slide.”
“And go where?”
“Away from you! If I stay here any longer, I might do some shit I can’t come back from.”
I let him go. He walked into the bedroom closet, pulled his Louis Vuitton duffel bag, and filled it up with as many clothes as it could fit. I continued to cry as he bypassed me with the bag in hand.
“Ahkeem, could you just think about this?”
“Who else fucking knew?” he disregarded my question and asked one of his own.
It was in my best interest to just tell him everything he wanted to know. I gulped down and looked up at him with nothing but sorrow in my eyes. “Priest,” I croaked out.
Another bitter chuckle sounded from him as he shook his head. “Y’all motherfuckas one in the same, son. That nigga sat in my fucking face and… don’t even worry about it. I see I can’t trust neither of y’all.”
He brushed past me again, this time bumping my shoulder in the process. I didn’t chase after him. He wanted to go—correction, he needed to go—in order to keep from doing or saying something we couldn’t come back from. He took the elevator down, leaving me in shambles. I broke down shamelessly, heavy cries pouring out of me. Ahkeem was the love of my life. If he chose to walk away from me and never patch up our marriage, I wasn’t sure if my heart would ever heal from that pain.
I found my phone and dialed the number of the only person I knew would lend me a shoulder to cry on without making me feel shittier than I already felt. “PJ… he left,” I cried out.
“I’m on the way.”
By the time Priest arrived at the penthouse, I was curled up in a ball on the couch. I had cried so much that the pillow I rested my head on felt soaked. I heard the elevator doors chime behindme. Instead of one set of footsteps, I heard two. It wasn’t until they came around the couch that I realized Britain had come too.
Whenever she saw others in pain, she always carried this look of broken sympathy, almost as if she was in more pain than the person she felt bad for. My sister was an empath, so she emotionally and physically felt everything when it came to her loved ones.
“I’m so sorry, Jazz.” She took a seat on the couch and rubbed my back. “You got through the toughest part. Now all you can do is give him space so he can calm down.” She knew. I figured Priest told her when I called him in hysterics. She was my sister at the end of the day so I knew she gave my brother hell so she could come console me too.
“He’s done with me. You should’ve seen the look in his eyes.”
Priest took a seat on the other side of me. He lifted my head and rested it on his lap. “He ain’t done. Ahk love you so much, yo. You just revealed some deep shit to him; he just needs time.”
“I wish I n- never told him,” I hiccuped out.
Britain shook her head. “No because everything done in the dark will come to the light. He was gonna find out eventually. It was better coming from you than someone else.”
She had a point. I managed to keep the secret under wraps for two years, but eventually, God would have found a way to reveal it to him. The blow up would have been way worse had he found out about it from someone else. He probably would have asked for a divorce right then and there.
My brother reached down and wiped my tears. “C’mon. Go pack a bag. I can’t leave you here alone.”
