“And everything ain’t about you actin’ like I’m just supposed to accept whatever the fuck you wanna throw at me without askin’ questions either,” I said. “Soon as I walk through the door, you all on a nigga just for you to leavin’ me in the fuckin’ blind again, Toni. You think this shit cool? You think I’m a lame ass nigga you can play with like that?”
She looked at me then, her eyes glossy.
“I miss you,” she said quietly. “I miss us.”
That hit, but it wasn’t enough to soften the frustration I felt.
“Then look at what you doin’ to me right now,” I said, tappin’ my chest once. “You pushin’ me away and tellin’ me it ain’t like that, but you ain’t explainin’ shit. You don’t think that fuck with a nigga?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, like she ain’t even know how to say what she felt.
I shook my head slow. “I can’t keep doin’ this stop-and-go shit with you,” I said. “I don’t know how to reach you no more, and I’m tired of guessin’.”
“That’s not fair,” she said, her voice breakin’. “I’m tryin’.”
“And so am I,” I shot back, firm as hell. “But it don’t feel like we tryin’ together.”
Silence fell between us again, heavier this time.
I grabbed my sweats and stood up, pullin’ them on like I needed the distance. I wasn’t cryin’, I wasn’t beggin’, and I wasn’t explodin’, but I was done lettin’ this shit sit unanswered.
“I ain’t finna keep goin’ for this bullshit,” I said, lookin’ at her one last time.
She ain’t respond, and I didn’t wait for one.
Whatever the fuck my wife was hidin’, whatever she was scared to say out loud, I felt it now, deep in my gut.
And I already knew I wasn’t gon’ like it once I found out what it was.
Trill-Land, ‘LoLux Estate
My mind was all over the fuckin’ place right now, and that wasn’t normal for me ‘cause I was the type of nigga who usually trusted his gut and moved accordingly. Lately though, my gut been talkin’ to me in ways I ain’t like, and the shit wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was quiet, slow, and uncomfortable, that feelin’ that sat in your chest and refused to leave no matter how hard you tried to ignore the shit.
For the past week, I had been peepin’ Toni in a way I never had to before. Not on no jealous shit and not on no possessive shit either, but on some why-the-fuck-ain’t-this-addin’-up type of shit. The way she had been movin’ felt off, and the worst part was I couldn’t put my finger on exactly when it started. All Iknew was it lined up with the way our sex had changed, and that alone had my antennas up.
I knew Toni’s body. I knew her rhythm. I knew how she touched me when she wanted me, and I damn sure knew how she acted when she was tryna hold somethin’ back. That last time we fucked still replayed in my head whether I wanted it to or not, her stoppin’ me right when I was about to nut and the look on her face when she pushed me away like she needed space from me. I tried to tell myself it was just a moment, just emotions, just her dealin’ with her own shit, but the more days that passed, the harder it was to keep lyin’ to myself.
Another week without fuckin’ was not normal for us, and I wasn’t even trippin’ about the sex itself. What fucked me up was how she was really movin’ on a nigga.
That’s when I started noticin’ the patterns.
It wasn’t obvious at first, not if you wasn’t lookin’ for it, but once I peeped it, I couldn’t unsee it. Every day around the same time, Toni would slide open her nightstand drawer, grab somethin’, and head to the bathroom like it was part of her routine. Sometimes she would come back and put it right back in the drawer. Other times she would slip whatever it was in her purse real quick and act like ain’t shit happened. She never did it when I was standin’ right there either. It was always when she thought I was distracted or busy with somethin’ else.
I ain’t say shit though.
Still, my mind was cataloguin’ every move, every habit, every lil’ shift in her energy, and the picture that shit was paintin’ had me feelin’ some type of way. This mornin’ only made it worse.
I woke up before the sun even thought about comin’ up, not ‘cause I meant to, but ‘cause Toni was movin’ around too quiet. It was that soft quiet that only happen when somebody think you sleep and don’t wanna wake you. I kept my breath evenand my eyes closed while I listened to her slide out the bed, open the drawer, then pause like she was thinkin’ about somethin’.
I ain’t move…
I just laid there, starin’ at the ceilin’ in the dark, feelin’ that tightness in my chest get heavier. When she got back in bed and fell back asleep, I stayed awake, replayin’ every sign I ignored over the past couple weeks, every time I told myself I was overthinkin’ shit.
Finally, I sat up slow. I went to her side of the bed and grabbed the purse she had tucked just enough out of sight to think I wouldn’t notice.
That shit alone told me everything.
I walked to the edge of the bed and sat down with her purse in my hands, my jaw tight as I opened it. I wasn’t rummagin’ through her shit like a wild nigga either. I moved calm, like I was already bracin’ myself for whatever I was about to find.
