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“And then you still didn’t open your mouth and say shit. So tell me. Was sucking his dick and fucking him worth it to you?”
I steal a glance at Porsha. She glares back at me, eyes smoldering. I can tell she’s pissed, too. Felecia decides she’s heard enough and finally decides to leave. I’m sure so she can run off and start blabbing to everyone. Nosey-ass Cassandra leans back on the sink with her arms folded, determined not to miss a drop of dirt.
I’ve never seen Paris like this. I’m truly hurt, that I’ve hurt her. “Paris, you have to believe me when I say I’m so sorry. I know what I did was—”
“Fuck you, and fuck your goddamn apology, you selfish-ass bitch! I don’t have to believe shit. All I wanna know is how many times you sucked his dick, or let him fuck you in that nasty, whore ass of yours?”
Three other women walk into the bathroom. “Paris, please,” Porsha says, pulling her by the arm. “This is Pasha’s wedding. Let’s deal with this at home. We don’t need anyone else hearing all this.”
She stares at me long and hard. “You know what, you’re right. Let me get the fuck away from this bitch. I don’t know how the fuck she’s getting home, but her ass is not riding in the same car with us. The bitch can walk or suck her way home as far as I’m concerned.”
She swings open the bathroom door, storming out with Porsha hot on her heels. I turn to look at myself in the mirror, turning on the water. I’m wrecked.
Miss Nosey with the Big Ass toots her lips up. “Oooooh, Miss Girl, you a real messy one, I see. And I looooove it!” She snaps her clutch shut and heads for the door. She glances over her sholder. “Good luck, boo-boo, ’cause girlfriend looks like she’s gonna who
op that ass.”
Bitch!
Porsha
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
“For the love of God, what in the hell is going on?” Mother asks as soon as we approach the table. “Felecia came over here saying you were yelling and screaming at Persia.”
“Mother, not now,” Paris says, kissing her on the cheek. Then walks over and kisses our father. “We’re leaving. If you want to know what’s going on, ask your messy-ass daughter.”
“Paris,” Mother huffs.
Daddy gives Mother a stern look. “Let her be.”
“I most certainly will not. I want to know what in the hell is this mess about you being pregnant and you fighting with your sister, airing your filth here.”
Paris snatches her clutch from off the table. “Yes, Mother. I am pregnant. And I’m keeping it, okay?”
Everyone at the table gasps. Aunt Fanny and Aunt Lucky shoot each other the eye. Mother falls back in her seat, her jaw slack. Daddy lowers his head. This night has gone from bad to worse.
I open my mouth to say something when I spot Desmond walking over toward our table. But he’s already in earshot of everything Paris is saying.
“And that fucking bitch pretended to be me so she could fuck the father of my baby behind my back. Let’s go, Porsha. I’m through.” She spins on her heels, stopping dead in her tracks. Desmond’s standing in back of her, frozen with shock, hearing that she’s pregnant.
I glance over at the bridal table and see Felecia standing in back of Pasha, leaning in her ear, pointing over at us. I’m sure giving her all the juicy details of what happened in the bathroom. Pasha stares over in our direction as Paris runs out of the tent.
Paris
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Right now, I’m too fucking pissed to be embarrassed over the scene I’ve caused. I have to get the hell out of here, and fast. I find myself running in heels out of the tent with Porsha chasing behind me, and Desmond calling out to me. But, I keep running.
“Paris, wait!” Porsha yells, trying to catch up to me. But I continue my stride as fast as I possibly can in six-inch heels. When I’ve gotten almost to the front of the property, I stop running, panting hard, out of breath. Porsha finally catches up to me.
“Girl, you have no damn business running in heels. What are you trying to do, break your damn ankles or fall and hurt the baby? You’re not thinking straight. You’re upset, but you’re out here acting like a wild woman. You’ve let this entire thing take you out of character.”
I take three deep breaths.
“No, that, sneaky bitch did this.”
“Persia was dead wrong, but this wasn’t the place or the time to address it.”
