“Adore!” Love said.
“I didn’t take it personal and neither did the guy. It was casual, and we didn’t talk about anything in particular,” I explained.
“As my sister, I gotta tell ya that you sound dumb as fuck. What you mean it was nothing? A nigga callin’ yo’ phone at four in the mornin’ is not nothin’. So, you tellin’ me if Whodie took abitch out to dinner, picked her, paid for it, it’s nothing? A bitch look at Whodie too long, you get an attitude.”
I sat there thinking about what Hollow said.
“He has a point, Adore,” Love said softly.
“Y’all,” I groaned. “We went on a date months ago.” I was trying everything in my power to get them to see. “His number is not even saved in my phone.”
“But you were still having conversations? You said it was nothing?” Love stated.
Now I was aggravated because neither of them was seeing my side. Maybe I wasn’t making it clear.
“Adore, you can explain this shit until you’re blue in the face. You were wrong. If you’re in a relationship, you can’t go on fuckin’ dates with another nigga. Let Love try some shit like that, the nigga would be dead before he could take his morning piss.”
“Mind you,” Love said dryly. “This ain’t even about me.”
“Just got pissed just thinking ‘bout it,” Hollow said.
Now that Hollow said that, I hadn’t heard from the guy in the same amount of time I hadn’t heard from Whodie. Two days. I pulled my phone out and went to our text and call log. The last call was when he called and Whodie picked up.
“Yeah, that nigga probably somewhere stankin’,” Hollow teased.
“That’s not funny. Y’all think that’s the answer to all problems.”
“Shit, it is.”
“Okay, y’all, thank you for listening. I need to go somewhere where I can get a drink.”
“Aye, real talk. You need to apologize at least. That man gets up every day and still puts your business before himself. He could’ve easily left yo’ ass out to dry. He knows all yo’ information from the way you move and operate. You don’t crossmuthafuckas like that, Adore. Fuck wrong with you? You moving like yo’ bitch ass uncle Drex.”
“Nigga, don’t do that. Don’t bring that nigga name up around me,” I hissed.
“Aight, y’all,” Love stood in between us.
“I’m callin’ it like I see it. I don’t move like that, so you got it from somewhere. That nigga can take yo’ whole shit down or snatch it from you. Or…or, that muthafucka is extremely loyal and loves you. If it’s the latter, you gotta make that shit right. He didn’t deserve that.”
I left their house with more on my mind than when I got there. Was I wrong? Of course. I knew I was wrong the minute I went on the date. There was still the girl inside of me wondering what the other side of life was like. All I ever knew was the street side. It was amazing, but what about being the wife of a rich nigga? Not having to watch my back. That side of me was curious. When I pulled up to the house and saw a few of the 239 Boyz helping Whodie get the rest of his shit, my heart dropped. I thought we would be mad and get over the shit.
He had his other two cars pulled from the garage, boxes stacked up, and even his safe sitting by his truck. All that shit couldn’t fit in his condo and he knew it. He was being spiteful. We were in the middle of a war, and we had no idea who was against us. But this is what he decided to do. Move the fuck out after one mistake.
“Don’t scratch my fucking floors,” I told one of them. “Where is Whodie?” I asked.
“He’s upstairs. We’re not allowed up there,” one of them replied.
I took the stairs and entered our bedroom to see his side of the nightstand empty. He walked out of the closet with shoe boxes and dropped them on the floor in front of me.
“Whodie…like you can’t give me time to explain or anything.”
“Explain what? Shit, you did that already. I understand the guy you want. It ain’t me. You look at me on some protector type shit. Not husband material. It’s cool though, shit. The nigga you was fuckin’ before we got together was a cornball too. Don’t kno’ why I thought I was something special.”
“What do you want me to say? That yes, I want to be a wife. Yes, I’m confused between the streets and a regular life. What do you want?” I threw my arms up.
He stepped to me, “All I wanted was a fuckin’ apology.”
CHAPTER 7: WHODIE
