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But, like I said, it’s too late. There’s nothing to fix. We’re gonna keep doing what we do.
Nothing.
So now when she gets in her feelings, I leave her ass sitting in them, biding my time. And, if she starts popping shit, I let her argue by her damn self, which usually only sets her off more. Then she gets it in her little, crazy-ass head that there’s someone else.
“Motherfucker, are you cheating on me?!”
“Hell no, I’m not cheating. I should be. But I’m not.”
“Well, you’re fucking something because you’re damn sure not fucking me!”
“Listen, go ’head with that. I’m not doing this with you with Maya in the other room.”
“Nigga, I don’t give a fuck about Maya being in the other room! Maybe she needs to hear how fucked up you are.”
“Listen. Watch your fucking mouth, aiight?”
“Or what, nigga? I asked you a fucking question. Who you out there fucking?”
“No one. Damn. Now get the fuck off my back.”
“Nigga, I ain’t on your back, yet! I know y
ou fucking some dirty bitch. But if I find out who the bitch is, I’ma fuck her up. Try me!”
“Think what you want. I can get pussy anytime I want. But I don’t. So to answer your question, dumbass, I’m not fucking you because of you, not because of some other broad.”
“Nigga, fuck you and that little-ass dick! You ain’t gotta fuck me, bitch! That little-ass dick ain’t about shit anyway.”
“Yeah, aiight. Then why you sweating it if it ain’t about shit, huh?”
“Motherfucker, get the fuck out of my face!”
And, of course, Amaya heard that shit, too.
I frown, shaking the thought of our last argument two weeks ago out of my head. Yeah, I’m miserable in this marriage. But I’m still married. So until she leaves, or I can get up this money to file for a divorce—and get custody of our daughter—cheating is out, no matter how bad I want some stress-free pussy.
Shit, if I could afford one of those “happy-ending” massages, I’d let some slanted-eyed babe work the nut out of me.
But I’m not even chancing that. Just my luck, she’d fuck around and catch me getting this dick handled. Then try to fuck me over more than she already has. So, nah, I’ll get this nut off solo—well, with the help of porn and phone sex, for now. Otherwise, I’m not giving her any ammunition to use against me when it’s time to take her ass to court. But, trust me. If I was the kind of man to step out and fuck other women, I would. It’s not like I’m not being tempted. Pussy is always being thrown at me.
It’s like the more I say no, the more it’s being tossed at me. Still, as hard as it is, I resist. But fuck. Do you know how badly I want some new pussy? Some head? I’d love to have my dick sucked right now. And these balls licked, slow and wet. Would love to give this dick to someone who appreciated a good man and some good goddamn dick.
But I don’t need the added drama.
Not right now.
So I’ll pass.
I just want this bitch gone.
I want her to go on with her pathetic life, and leave Amaya and me alone. Let her ass be the weekend parent. It’s not like she’s doing much of the parenting any-damn-way. But, for now, I take the high road. Bite my tongue. And keep pretending.
I glance at the time on my iPad. 7:30 p.m.
I scowl, wondering where the fuck Stephanie is with my daughter. But I’m not about to text her to find out. On second thought, I think, grabbing my cell. Where’s Maya? I text.
A few seconds later, my phone pings. It’s her. I’m surprised she’s hit me back so quickly. Usually it takes her twenty, sometimes thirty, minutes before she decides to get back at me, if not at all, unless she wants something.
