“Girl, I can’t believe you are so calm about this whole situation. I would still be at that hoe’s top,” Ciara said as we walked into Saks.???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
“That chick probably don’t even remember who she is no more ’cause I knocked every screw loose that she had. I’m not about to keep beating on a chick that I know is not equipped to be fighting me. She couldn’t take these bitches!” I said, referring to her not being able to handle me when it came to fighting. She didn’t even pinch my ass.
“I don’t give a damn! She came to yo’ crib like she was D-Bo, forgetting that he got his ass knocked the fuck out. I wanna find that bitch myself and put another knot on her damn head. She knows she was outta line. I still can’t believe it’s a child involved, either. This shit is crazy. Jakari, that’s one bitch ass nigga mann,” she said as we stopped at the shoes.
“I’m over it. I just want that nigga outta my life and mind. I look out my window every day and see his obsessed ass out there. If he was that crazy about me, he should have done right the first time. A baby is something that I can never forgive. Then he hid that shit from me for so long that it makes me sick to think about it. I’m good on him. If another bitch can have him, thatwas never my nigga to begin with. I ain’t these bitches that share. Ima give him to the streets.”
“I understand that shit. He should have told you instead of taking away your right to decide if you wanted to keep him or not. He’s foul for that ’cause you ain’t never did shit but help his ass. His weird ass needs to stay away from yo’ spot before he be locked up, though. You gon’ be okay, friend, I swear,” Ciara said as she hugged me around my neck.
I hugged her back and exhaled.
She was the only friend I had, and I appreciated her for always coming through. We shopped, ate, and talked until I forgot all about my problems. I really needed this girls’ day.
When I got home, Jakari was standing outside with his hands in his pockets, just waiting for me. Ciara parked and hopped out with her mace in hand, waiting for me to say the word. I told her to hold on while I went to see what he wanted, so she posted up on the car and just waited for me.
“Why are you here?” I asked, annoyed as I stormed up to him.
“Why you changed the locks? You ain’t even let me explain shit to you!” he said, getting loud with me.
“Is that your son?”
“He is,” Jakari said in a low tone as he hung his head.
“Well, seems like you don’t need to explain shit to me. All I need you to do is to stay the fuck away from me before I hurt yo’ stupid ass. Get the fuck away from my place and stop stalking my shit. It’s over. Be a family with your son and his momma. That’s what I can’t give you, right?” I laughed as I tried to walk past him to enter my place, but he grabbed my arm.
“That was a one time thing. On my momma, I never cheated again after that. I ain’t never touch that girl again. It ain’t nothing I need in the world other than you! I need you, bae. Please, just tell me what I have to do,” he pleaded.
I looked Jakari in the face, and I could tell he meant what he said. As he gripped my hand tightly, I snatched it away from him and started slapping the fuck out of him. I couldn’t stand the sight of him. My heart raced, my palms got sweaty, and my chest started tightening up. I was having a panic attack just from having to face him.
After allowing me to beat his ass for twenty minutes, and my friend standing close by, waiting for him to move wrong, he finally left. Once he was gone, I told Ciara that I was good and needed to be alone. She didn’t want to leave me, but respected the fact that I was going through some hard shit right now. I went into the house, flopped on the bed, and cried myself to sleep. What I thought I was done with still tugged at my heartstrings. How could he do this shit to me? I was too good to him. This shit hurt like a muthafucka. As much as I wanted to pretend that it didn’t.
Weeks turned into two months, and I hadn’t heard from or seen J again. Things were getting easier for me to accept, and I was getting into a good routine that no longer included him. I focused more on my business and spent a lot of time giving myself the love I so desperately wanted from a nigga. I had started taking myself on dates twice a month. I would get dolled up, buy myself roses, and take myself to a fancy dinner. I was learning that there was nothing a man could do for me that I couldn't do for myself, and what I couldn’t do, my rose sure could.
I headed to my shop because I had a client who would arrive in an hour, and I had to set up for her. For the first month after my breakup, I let my shop manager, Carmen, run things for me while I was getting my life together. I appreciated having someone I could trust to keep things up and running. Even in the midst of a heartbreak, I was determined to pull myself out of that dark place, and that’s exactly what I did.
Since I had been back on my grind, I was booked and busy. The girls would spend their last dollar to sit in my chair, and I loved that. I had been one of the most well-known celebrity stylists in the city for the past four years, and I took pride in my work. Anybody who was really having motion wanted to be a regular client of mine. I was just that damn good.
I pulled up to my shop and noticed it was already packed. When I walked in, I greeted my staff and the customers before I went to my booth and started to get my products out. Although I made enough money to quit working and just run my shop, I’ve never been a lazy bitch. I found pleasure in getting my hands dirty and putting in work. I was raised by two hustlers, so it was in my blood to wanna work for mine. Eventually, I would relax and enjoy the fruits of my labor, but for now, I still felt like I was just getting started.
When my client, Dimeo, walked in, she was immediately greeted by the entire shop. Most of the clients jumped out of their seats to try to get a picture or hug from her. She was accompanied by two buff niggas who I assumed were her security. Dimeo was an up and coming rapper from the city, and everyone loved her music. I smiled as I watched her show love to everyone because one thing I loved was a humble bad bitch. She took her time acknowledging everyone who approached her, and that said a lot about her character. I turned on her hit single and let it blast through the speakers in the shop while we all rapped along.
“You sure know how to make a bitch feel welcomed!” Dimeo said as she hugged me once she finally made her way to my chair.
“I’m gonna always give you your flowers while you can smell ’em. You know yo’ music is fire, and youthat bitchin da city!” I said as she sat down.
We talked while I laid her forty-inch buss down lace frontal, and she told me about all the upcoming events she had in the works. I was really proud of her because just two years ago, she was outside my shop, slanging her mixtapes. Now her shit was played on all the stations. I had no doubt that she was gon’ be even bigger soon. She was too talented not to be.
As I finished my last few touches, someone walked into the shop, causing my bell to ding. Before I could look in that direction, their cologne traveled through my nostrils and right down to my cat. This nigga smelled good as fuck. I hadn’t laid eyes on him yet but I knew that any nigga walking around smelling like that deserves some head.
When I looked toward the door, a fine ass chocolate nigga was heading in my direction. Not only did this nigga smell like heaven, but he looked so damn good that I couldn’t look away. He was heading straight in my direction with his eyes stuck on me. I wanted to break eye contact but something about his fine ass wouldn’t allow me to look away. Who the fuck was this nigga?
When he finally approached me, he handed me a stack of five bands with the bank sticker still attached. I had to close my mouth to keep from drooling on this nigga ’cause he had my shit watering.
“Here, momma. I see you be doing yo shit with that hair,” he said, confusing me once he handed me the money.
“Rowdy, shut the fuck up. Friendly ass nigga!” Dimeo jokingly said to him.
Before I could ask what the money was for, Dimeo hugged me and told me to keep the change. She said she would call me to book again in the next few weeks. I watched as she and the chocolate nigga left the shop, followed by her security. I had no idea that Dimeo had a man, but she definitely had good taste. After I saw that he was spoken for, any wild thoughts that hadcrossed my mind faded just as fast. I wasn’t hard up for no nigga, and I always respected the girl code.
