I had been the one to control the flow in our home. I managed everything, from the kids to the house maintenance, and would basically assign whatever role I wanted Jahrein to have, from day to day. And now, I had been petty, swearing that I didn’t live there, and refused to handle things, which resulted in things being in disarray.
I also got up like I didn’t have kids, often leaving before Jahrein, forcing him to figure out baby-sitting arrangements before he could make any moves.
He'd tried out a nanny or two, but it didn’t last long because Jahrein struggled with trusting people in our home, swearing that everybody was working for the police or was a lowkey informant.
So, he was often running around like a chicken with its head cut-off, just because he wanted to have control and possession of the kids. The evil part of me liked watching him scramble around, but ultimately, I knew that all this bullshit was impacting my kids.
Me merely approaching a door was enough to have them all in tears, thinking that I was trying to leave them. Which told me that we were traumatizing them, and I hated that.
Honestly, I sometimes wanted to just pick up and be the wife and mother I was before all this shit happened. I missed the normalcy. My kids. And even my bitch-ass husband.
Realizing that my life had been flipped upside down was sometimes infuriating. It just wasn’t fair. And then this was different from all the other times me and Jahrein had had issues. We would usually fight, before I’d get over things. However, this was a whole new ball game. Forgiving him wouldn’t change the fact that he had a baby with somebody else.
Suddenly, I didn’t feel so special. There was nothing sacred shared between us. Because a bitch had literally pushed out my man’s baby. And I hated Jahrein right then for that.
Ambling into the master bedroom, I honestly didn’t know what to expect. Immediately, I was greeted by a cloud of weed smoke.
Sauntering near the bed, I saw Jahrein sitting at the foot of the bed, shirtless.
“Why you still up?” I questioned, as he seemed zoned out, staring blankly at the floor.
Gradually, he lifted his head, and studied me for a long while, before speaking. “The same reason you felt comfortable enough to stroll in this muthafucka at this time of the night.”
I sighed. “Well, I called myself coming here to be here when the kids wake up. But I can always go home.”
“Home, huh?” He scoffed. “Your name is on this muthafuckin’ deed, Raven. So,thisis your fucking home.”
“Yeah, it used to be, but I had to adjust.”
He stared at me. “How can you talk about shit like we in the past?”
“Cause, we are.” I bucked my eyes.
He shook his head. “You know that regardless of what’s happening right now, that I’llneverbe your past.”
I tilted my head. “You sure about that?”
“I’m positive.”
“Whatever, Jahrein,” I exhaled.
“Where did you come from?”
“Huh?” I was thrown off by the question.
He cleared his throat. “I asked where did you come from?”
“I was kicking it with Michelle. We went out, and swung by a after-hours.”
“After-hours? Since when is that your thing?”
“Since my husband broke my heart and I had to find a life outside of him.”
Instead of a quick rebuttal, the room grew silent.
Eventually, he loudly inhaled. “I know that you tired of hearing this, but I’m sorry, baby. For real. I never wanted you to walk around feeling like that. You deserved better from me.”
I gulped. “Yeah, whatever.”
