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“But?” he says, giving me a sideview stare.
“But my life is kind of complicated right now. There are things about me that you wouldn’t understand.”
“Like what?”
I slowly shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. The fact is, as much as I want to be with you, I can’t.” He lets go of my hand. Walks over to the other side of the room and picks up his boxers. I watch as he slips them on. “I don’t mean to hurt you.”
He looks over at me. “Nah, I’m good, yo. I wish you woulda told me this shit sooner, instead of havin’ a muhfucka gettin’ all into you ’n shit. It’s all good, though. It was fun while it lasted.”
“I’m so sorry. I really, really like you.”
He half-laughs. “You like me? Oh, shit. Well, check this out. I was really, really feelin’ you, aiight? I wasn’t only likin’ you. I was diggin’ you, hard. But, hey…it is what it is.”
Persia, you owe this man the truth.
Truths aren’t always what they appear to be.
You’re right. Not when they’re based on distorted realities. Give him the truth. That you’re not Paris; that you’ve been misleading him. That she’s carrying his baby.
The truth doesn’t matter, anymore. The damage is already done. I’m not risking losing my sister over this.
The minute you tricked him and fucked him in her store, you lost her.
Dicks come a dime a dozen. Paris will meet someone else. I’m doing them both a favor.
But she’s pregnant by this man.
Not for long. Hopefully I can convince her to have an abortion before it’s too late.
“I swear, I never meant for this to happen.”
He scowls at me, placing both hands up on his hips. “You never meant for what to happen?”
“To care about you the way I do.” Truth is, I really have gotten attached to him. Well, not him, his dick. Actually, I love his dick. But, shit. I love Royce’s dick, too. Why couldn’t Paris stick to the fucking script instead of straying off with this man? All she had to do is bring him around for the three of us to share. And none of this would’ve happened. Now, he thinks I’m her. She’s pregnant. He has deep feelings for her. She thinks he dissed her. And now I have to be the one to dump him.
“I’m seeing someone else,” I finally offer, bringing him as close to the truth as I possibly can. A half-truth is better than none. He squints at me. His jaw tightens.
“You seein’ someone? You mean as in fuckin’?”
I nod. “I’m so sorry. The last thing I’ve wanted to do was hurt you.”
“Yo, I’m not hurt. I’m disappointed. But, it’s all good. I’m glad you told me before I got in too deep.” He gathers my clothes, walks over and hands them to me. “Yo, I think you should go.”
I get up from his bed and slip on my bra and panties, then slide back into my clothes. He watches as I slip on my heels, then walks me to the door.
I reach for him, but he pulls away. I can tell he’s hurt, even though he says he’s not. He’s an innocent victim in my sick-twisted game. I honestly feel bad. But, it’s all for the best. He and Paris will both go on with their lives, never knowing anything different. Other than he stopped calling her, and she was fucking someone else. “I’m not the woman you think I am.”
He eyes me, shaking his head. I see sadness. “Yeah, obviously not,” he says, opening the door. He watches as I walk toward the elevators. He waits until I step in, then shuts the door. The elevator doors close and I’m left alone with my lies seeping from my pores, along with the musky fuck-smell that still oozes out from between my legs.
Porsha
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
“Porsha, we have to convince Paris to get an abortion, and fast,” Persia says in a hushed tone, looking over her shoulder to make sure Paris isn’t in earshot. We’re sitting at the kitchen table. Persia is seated in a chair next to me. “This whole situation is a mess
.”
I blink. “This whole situation is a mess for whom?”
