Page 116 of Surrogate For My Best Friend’s Man 2

“Meaning?”

“Suppression, disqualification, evidentiary hearings and if the facts support it, dismissal.”

Now we were talking.

Moretti closed the folder. “I’m filing immediately.”

“How long?”

“Give me two weeks.”

I stared at him.

“Two weeks for what?”

“To make them wish Agent Brown had never heard your name.”

For the first time since I’d been locked up, I felt something besides anger, hope. “Are you saying I’ll be home in two weeks?”

“I’m saying I’m going after your detention first. I want you out while we fight the rest.” He pointed at me. “But don’t confuse confidence with a promise. Judges make decisions, not lawyers.”

Fair enough, then Moretti smiled for the first time. It wasn’t a friendly smile either. That muthafucka looked like he’d just found something he’d been hoping was buried in the paperwork. “This is why I ask clients whether there’s anything they forgot to tell me.”

“I didn’t think fucking Kim mattered.”

“Your mistress’s father being a federal agent investigating you?”

He stared at me. “That fucking matters.”

I nodded.

“Anything else?” Moretti watched me for another second like he didn’t believe me then he stood. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Tomorrow?” I asked.

“No.” He grabbed his briefcase. “Tomorrow”

After he left I went back to my cell, I finally had a little hope. I was ready to get back to my life. I couldn’t do shit in here. I couldn’t protect my family or run my business. I didn’t like the fact that I had no control a nigga felt helpless. I also needed to get out so that I could fix whatever was wrong with my marriage. I didn’t like the way Alisha was moving. Apparently she forgot who the fuck I was because she was doing the most. If I was on the outside ain’t no way in hell she would have been ignoring me. I hope she doesn't think she is leaving me. It's for better or worse till death do us part around this muthafucka.

ALISHA

Iwas done being everybody’s fucking fool. That was the conclusion I came to after weeks of silence. The hurt was still there, some mornings I woke up and had a few peaceful seconds before everything came rushing back, Deuce, Kim, the twins, Shante, grandma Lorraine knowing. Malik being the one who finally told me. My whole marriage had turned into some shit everybody knew about except the wife.

For a while, I kept asking myself why? Why did Deuce cheat? Why would Shante agree to carry those babies? Why would Grandma sit around me knowing the truth? Why was Kim so obsessed with somebody else’s husband that she’d accept any piece of him she could get?

Eventually, I stopped asking. Fuck a why because they did the foul shit and that was enough. Everybody had gotten too comfortable with Alisha being loyal. They thought because I loved hard, I would forgive anything. Because I showed up, I’d always be there. Because I had stayed through so much already, I’d stay through this too, but they had me fucked up.

The first thing I did was call a divorce attorney. I didn’t tell anybody. I made the appointment, gathered everything the attorney requested and walked into that office knowing exactly what I wanted, a divorce and primary physical custody of Brittany, protection for my nail shop and every damn thing I was legally entitled to after five years of marriage.

I wasn’t walking away from my marriage with a broken heart and two suitcases while Deuce kept everything we’d built. Absolutely the fuck not. When the attorney asked whether reconciliation was an option, my answer came so damn fast. “No.”

She explained the process, and I paid attention. She talked about the property, custody, joint accounts, the house and my business. Deuce’s current incarceration complicated some things, but it didn’t stop me from filing. I signed what needed signing and when I walked out, my wedding ring was inside my purse. I wasn’t somebody’s wife anymore in my mind, the paperwork was just making it official.

Moving out of the house came next. I waited until Brittany was with Mama because she didn’t need to watch me pack up our life. I hired movers not Rell or one of Deuce’s people. A legitimate moving company that didn’t know shit about us besides the address and what needed to be moved. Walking through that house one last time hurt more than I expected.

There were memories everywhere, Brittany learning to walk, Christmas mornings, family dinners. Me and Deuce on the couch arguing over movies. That was what people didn’t understand about leaving somebody. Everything didn’t have to be bad for you to know it was over.

I had loved Deuce in that house, but I wasn’t going to let old memories keep me trapped in a place where I could no longer respect the man I shared them with. So I packed my clothes, shoes, purses and personal things. Brittany’s entire room, her clothes and toys, everything she needed.