With a cocky smirk, I ran my eyes down the length of Miamor’s frame. “An autograph, huh? Sure. Where do you want me to sign?”
“Right here.” She pointed to her exposed cleavage, and I chuckled.
“That’s a good spot. I don’t have a pen though.”
Miamor looked down and unzipped her crossbody mini-Chanel purse. With a devilish grin, she pulled out a Sharpie and passed it to me.
Finishing my drink, I placed the empty cup on a table and signed my name in cursive on Miamor’s breast. I directed my gaze toward Jenette. “And you?”
“I think I want it on my ass.” She was a bold one, and I liked it. Usually, thirsty women weren’t a turn on. It really didn’t matter if they were demure or aggressive, I shunned them all. But one thing Jenette and Miamor were reminding me of was the fact that I was that nigga. There were strangers that would do anything I asked of them with no hesitation. Meanwhile, my own wife cared more about pacifying an ex than making her husband happy. Anger made my jaw muscle tick but Jenette turning around and lifting her dress over her round ass, made the anger dissipate and arousal take its’ place.
I signed Jenette’s ass and when I was done, she twerked. Miamor eased over and stared me in the eyes while rubbing on Jenette’s ass. She then squatted in front of me, and Jenetteplaced one leg over her. As she twerked over Miamor’s face, Miamor stuck her tongue out and let it graze Jenette’s bare mound a few times. That did it for me. I tipped the bottle girl $200 to let the three of us use an empty VIP room. A time was had in that room. I had the best sex I’d ever had in my life, and the moment I stepped back into the VIP section with Miamor and Jenette on my heels, my life turned to shit.
When London stood up, I was jarred back to the present. The nurse practitioner was standing with a smile on her face as she waited on London. My wife’s belly wasn’t huge, but she was still waddling a bit. A sad smile graced my face as I realized how badly I’d messed up. After the night we had sex, Miamor and Jenette messaged me on social media. Going to their profiles literally made me sick. In the light, Miamor wasn’t as bad as she was when I was drunk in a dark setting. Her lips looked like rubber. She had gone too hard with the filler, and it looked like if I stuck a pin in her lip it would pop.
She actually looked better without makeup. Miamor had a sharply chiseled jawline that made her almost appear masculine. The men went crazy over her photos because she was always provocatively dressed, but in the face, she was a strong seven on a good day. London was a ten even on a bad day so yeah, I had played myself. Jenette was still pretty in her photos, but she wasn’t worth losing London for either.
After the routine questions and labs, we waited in the room for the doctor. “I got the papers,” I stated as London sat in the examination chair with her phone in hand. She was engrossed in something.
“Good.” She didn’t even look up.
“So, that’s it, huh?”
“Yeap.”
“Because what? Because Miamor’s childish ass was chasing clout? You already knew I had sex with her. There wasn’t a damnthing she could tell you that you didn’t already know. So why? Why divorce me after her bullshit ass clout chasing stunt?”
London’s head snapped up, and she looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Are you slow? Like for real, Issac. You can’t be that dense. Of course, I know what you did. I live with it every day. But having it rubbed in my face and being bothered by your slut is a level of disrespect that I refuse to tolerate. You gave her the ammunition to play in my face. I’m over it, and I’m not dealing with it. Not in private or on national television.”
My jaw muscles flexed as I gritted my molars together. What the hell could I say? She wasn’t wrong. There was no way I would ever give up on my marriage without a fight, but how long was I supposed to fight? London didn’t want anything to do with me, and she wasn’t any closer to forgiving me. Licking my wounds and moving on was the only thing I could do. I could keep drinking, keep playing subpar football, those things would only hurt me. They wouldn’t hurt London. There wasn’t anything for me to say but even if I had a comeback, I would have had to wait because the doctor entered the room with a bright smile on his face.
As usual, he shook my hand then asked London how she was doing. Sitting patiently, I waited as the doctor measured her stomach and did all the routine prenatal visit stuff. The baby’s heartbeat was strong, and she was measuring where she needed to be. London had requested a 3Dultrasound, so the doctor told her to schedule that appointment at the front desk. When he was done, I waited for London and held the door open for her. I also waited for her to make the ultrasound appointment because I wanted to be there. Leaving the doctor’s office, I once again held the door open for her. London mumbled a thank you as I responded with a curt head nod. We were done, and I had to accept that.
Later that night, I got dressed for Hymn’s bachelor party. The women were going on a trip for Brion’s bachelorette celebration, but Hymn was keeping it simple. He wasn’t having the gathering at a club. Hymn had paid for the presidential suite at one of Diamond Cove’s most luxurious hotels. There was going to be a caterer to cook for us and four strippers handpicked by Hymn and Brion. I was looking forward to drinking and maybe even smoking a joint or two. Hymn was celebrating his impending nuptials, and I was celebrating my upcoming divorce. Celebrate might not have been the right word because I wasn’t happy about it, but what could I do? Cry about it? Shit, I had done that.
When I arrived at the hotel, Hymn had to come down and let me up. We entered the plush suite, and the caterers were there setting up. The room Hymn was in for the night was bigger than some apartments I had been in. I’d frequented the hotel before I got married and back then, presidential suites ran $3,500 a night. There was a spacious living room area, nice sized dining area with a full bar, and a dining table that could seat six. There were two bedrooms and two bathrooms. The suite also had a balcony that boasted a view of the ocean.
I was set to stroll past the caterers, but I had to do a double take. “Alandra?” I asked with furrowed brows.
The woman that I thought I recognized lifted her head and sure enough, it was her. I had dated Alandra in college. She was the person I thought I’d marry if I married anyone, but we were off and on. During one of the off times, London swooped in and had my nose wide open. I forgot all about Alandra. London and I moved pretty quick and when Alandra found out I was engaged, she stormed off crying. That was the last time I’d seen her. Shemight curse me out, flip me the bird, or ignore me. Whichever one she chose, I still couldn’t be in the same room as her and not acknowledge her.
“Hi, Isaac.” She gave me a small smile before going back to what she was doing. She didn’t appear angry but maybe she was being professional.
If Hymn was using her, whoever she worked for had to be one of the best. If they were one of the best, they weren’t cheap. Enough time had passed that I doubted Alandra would risk losing her job for me even if she did hate me. There were two caterers in the kitchen area. Alandra and another woman who looked to maybe be in her mid-forties. They were setting pans of food along the counter. I wasn’t sure what was in the pans, but it smelled delicious. Hymn had instructed the front desk staff that they could give Huncho a key, so he entered the room just as Hymn was taking the top off a bottle of tequila.
Every now and then, I would discreetly glance over at Alandra who seemed to be focused on her job. She was 5’3 with dark, exotic skin, high cheek bones, and a short pixie cut that made her look like a runway model and a grown ass woman at the same time. It seemed as if women everywhere were cutting their hair, and I wasn’t mad at it. On the right female, those short styles were sexy as fuck.
The guys began arriving, and Alandra let Hymn know that they’d be back in three hours to clean up. Once they left, Huncho poured shots for everyone and gave a short speech.
“This nigga gets on my nerves at least once a week, but he wouldn’t be my brother if he didn’t. My father has always been in my life but somehow, this dude right here was my first hero. I wanted to do everything he did. I’m glad you found, Brion. That’s a good look for you, bro. You better treat her right.”
“That’s something you don’t even have to tell me,” Hymn stated proudly.
Swallowing down a lump, I raised my shot glass and tossed back the potent liquid. Brion was just as headstrong as London, so he’d damn sure better do right by her unless he wanted to find himself single. Hymn encouraged us to fix our plates and get a full belly before the dancers arrived. We sat around eating, drinking, and talking about everything from sports to fatherhood. The drama with my marriage had been monopolizing so much of my mental that I didn’t have the chance to really relish in the fact that in four months, I was going to have a child.
When I realized that I wouldn’t be picking my wife and son up from the hospital and taking them home with me, my stomach soured. The aroma from the food was no longer appetizing, and the only thing I wanted to consume was alcohol. When Huncho went out on the balcony to smoke a blunt, I followed him.
“You good?” he asked inhaling a thick cloud of smoke.
