He stood at the sink and brushed his teeth. As soon as he was done, I got out, dried off, and threw on a nightgown. All I wanted to do was go to bed and pray that Jah’s assistant didn’t tell anyone that she saw me. Kileen wasn’t in the bedroom when I walked in. I eased in bed and closed my eyes. I had hugged a few men tonight and was glad Jah’s cologne mixed in with it. Kileen walked back in the room with a towel around his waist. The visions of when I caught him at Siya’s house looking the same way flashed before my eyes. All of a sudden, I no longer felt guilty.
I realized that, despite everything that happened tonight, I was never going to let go of how much Kileen changed me. The hurt couldn’t be replaced by anyone but Jah. Sometimes I look at Kileen and I didn’t even recognize the man I married. I remember every detail of how he did me. How he laid up inourbed, underourroof, knowing damn well he had another woman across town set up just like me. A whole other house, a car, a baby. A version of me, but younger. He built another life while smiling in my face and telling me that us not having kids was “okay.” It hurt deeply.
It’s the lies that replay in my head when I’m quiet. The way he told me we were building, when in reality he was just using my love, loyalty, and support as a safety net while he gambled with my heart somewhere else. It’s the way he slipped that ring off his finger in her house and put it back on before he came home. The way he tried to gaslight me like I was supposed to swallow all of this and call it a mistake.
He didn’t just cheat on me. He replaced me, piece by piece, and still expected me to be grateful he chose to come home. Like he was the damn prize. And the sick part is, I stayed.
I told myself I was being strong. I told myself I was just trying to see it through, to make sure I wasn’t walking away too fast. Really, I was scared. Scared to get my heartbroken again by Jah.
Being with Jah is what finally made me see how bad Kileen did me. Not the sex, though God knows that woke parts of me up I thought were dead. It was the way Jahsawme. The way he listened when I talked. The way he made space for my feelings without acting like they were an inconvenience. The way he touched me like I was something to be cherished, not just something to come home to after a long day.
With Jah, bare minimum doesn’t feel like love anymore. With Jah, I realized how small I made myself for Kileen. How long I been surviving off crumbs and calling it a fucking feast?Every time Kileen opened his mouth to talk about us, I felt nothing but resentment. Like a few therapy sessions and a bigger ring can cover up the fact that he built a whole family on the side while I was crying in silence over negative pregnancy tests. If I’m honest with myself, I wish I’d divorced him the day I found out about that baby.
I wish I’d listened to my daddy the first time he told me to leave. I wish I’d signed those papers and walked away before this mess got any deeper. Before I let my heart get tangled up with a man like Jah. Someone who actually shows me what love could be. While I’m still legally tied to someone who treated my love like it was disposable. Now I was stuck between what I know I deserve and the history I’m afraid to let go of.
The truth? I’m disgusted by what Kileen did to me. I’m disgusted that I kept giving him chances he never earned. And every time I feel Jah’s hands on me, every time he looks at me like I’m the only woman in the room, it hits me harder. I should’ve filed for that divorce the moment he chose to be a father somewhere else instead of a husband at home.
Because now that I’ve seen what it feels like to be wanted, to be prioritized, to belovedwithout begging for it? There’s no way in hell I can pretend like what Kileen offered me was ever enough.
I was so deep in thought that I hadn’t realized that Kileen was under the cover with his head in between my legs. The guilt forced me to push him from down there.
“What are you doing? Tati, it’s been long enough. You still don’t trust me?”
Hell no!
“My stomach is cramping and I don’t want you to be down there and my cycle comes,” I lied.
“I don’t care. I want my wife. Now, if I don’t get it from you, I’ve got to get it from somewhere.”
And just like that, I kicked his ass right out of the bed.
“What the fuck has gotten into you? I was just being honest. I’ve been home five months and the most you’ll do is let me eat you out. When am I going to be able to sleep with my wife?”
Since he wanted to be honest, should I tell him he can’t touch me because he could never touch me like Jah could?
“Did you have to add the comment about getting it from somewhere else? Have you been doing that since you’ve home?” I sat on the side of the bed waiting for an answer.
“No, I haven’t. I have thought about it, though. I’m trying Tatiyonna, but you can’t neglect my needs.”
There goes that trying word again. I told him that he couldn’t put a timeframe on when I got over something. At the same time, he was right. I was withholding sex from him because I knew he couldn’t satisfy that itch. That would bruise his ego.
“Kil, I’m sorry if I haven’t been fulfilling my duties as your wife. We can attempt sex soon, but I need you to put a condom on.”
“A fucking condom? With my wife. You can keep the pussy, Tati. I’m good on that. I’ll sleep in the guest room so I can think about if I really want to keep doing this shit with you.” He got up and walked out.
He was so good at flipping shit on me. All that chasing behind him and begging him was over. It was over the day he stepped outside of our marriage. I prayed that he would wake his ass up in the morning and hand me divorce papers. The door to the guest room slammed hard enough to rattle the walls, and I didn’t flinch. Not this time. I lay back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling, listening to the echo of his footsteps fade. Five months home, and somehow, he still found a way to make me feel like the villain.
It was crazy how fast love turned into disgust. How a man could think access to my body was something he was owedjust because he put a ring on my finger years ago and decided, finally, he wanted to be in a damn marriage after I left him. I wasn’t withholding sex to punish him. I was protecting myself. Kileen’s ass didn’t miss me. What he missed was the control he had over me. Missed the version of me that made it easy for him to move how he wanted without consequences. The version that swallowed pain and smiled anyway to make him feel good. That woman was gone, and he felt it every time I told him no.
I slid down under the covers and tried to clear my head. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. With the time of night it was, I already knew it was Jah. I stared at his name like it was dangerous. Because it was. One word from him and I’d crumble. One touch and I’d forget why restraint mattered. He represented everything I wanted and everything I couldn’t have—not yet. Not without burning my life all the way down. I didn’t open the message.
Instead, I turned the phone face down and closed my eyes.
Kileen had made his choice years ago. Over and over again. Tonight, just reminded me that he still didn’t get it. Still didn’t understand that love isn’t about obligation or guilt or threats disguised as honesty. Love doesn’t say,if you don’t give me what I want, I’ll find it somewhere else.
I was done negotiating my worth. Done pretending healing had a deadline. Done carrying the weight of his mistakes like they were my responsibility to fix. If he wanted to walk away, I wouldn’t chase him. If he wanted to sleep alone, I would sleep just fine. And if divorce papers ever landed in my hands, I would sign them so quick his head would spin.
Because for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t afraid of what came next. I was afraid of staying stuck. Afraid of waking up years from now, still choosing history over happiness. And I knew one thing for sure as sleep finally pulled me under. Whatever happens next, I refuse to lose myself again.
