Jeremy fell to a crumpled heap on the floor, holding his head as he curled up in a fetal position, groaning in pain.
“That’s what you get. I done told your goofy ass I had a bad fucking day,” I said, walking by him, looking at the way his forehead already began to swell.
“Hey, I’m about to call the police. You can’t do that!” The cashier yelled, pointing at me with one hand while he picked up his cell phone with the other hand. I waved him off as I walked out the door. I would just drink water at home. I was now surprisingly sober.
*****
I held the keys to the front door as I was about to unlock my home. I could hear Lotus whining, waiting for me, so she could pounce and show how much she missed me. I wasn’t expecting Dior to be here because I told her ass she needed to stay at the main house for that dumb stunt she pulled.
Walking into the house, I bent and rubbed Lotus’ ear. The house was quiet, and I felt a kind of way since I’d gotten used to seeing Dior after a long day. I began unbuttoning my shirt as I walked to my bedroom door. I was gonna take a shower and hop my ass in bed. Tomorrow I will go to the main house and deal with my defiant wife, who didn’t know how to fucking listen.
As I opened the door and stepped inside, I stopped immediately at the sight of Dior lying on her stomach on the bed like nobody’s business. She was doing one of those word search puzzle books. My shirt was now completely unbuttoned, so I took it off and tossed it at her head,
“What the hell,” she muttered, yanking it off and looking back at me.
“The fuck are you doing here? Didn’t I tell your ass over the phone earlier that you needed to stay at the main house?” I wagged my index finger at her as I walked closer to the bed.
“Excuse me, but I live here,” she answered, tossing the shirt back to me. She turned right back to the puzzle as though she couldn’t be bothered.
“You'd better get your shit and go spend the night under Victoria’s roof since you like listening to her so fucking much.” I took my shoes off before I began unbuttoning my pants.
“You're just mad I played the game so well; you had no clue you were being played,” Dior said and then giggled. Thatshit pissed me off so fucking bad, I walked up to her and grabbed her by her ankle and dragged her ass until she almost fell right off the bed. She kicked her leg out at me and spun around to face me.
“I really wish you had made me fall out of this bed, Buddha,” she said as though I was supposed to be afraid of her.
“I’m not about to tell you again. Get your shit, and walk your ass to the main house,” I glared at her. Hopping off the bed because all Dior knew was how to be stubborn. She marched up to me, her hand on her hip, staring as though she could beat my ass.
“I’m not going anywhere. You wanted a wife, well, you have one. Look at you so fucking angry over that bitch Catalina, you haven’t seen in years. You must really love that hoe,” she turned her nose up at me in disgust. I sucked my teeth at her because she kept wanting me to have these imaginary feelings for Catalina.
“You sound fucking stupid,” I said, turning to go have a shower. I wasn’t about to have this useless conversation after the day I had. Dior’s footsteps kept up the pace with mine as I headed to the bathroom.
“I’m always stupid every time I bring up your precious Catalina.” I shook my head because now she was also hard of understanding. I stopped and turned to face her.
“Clean your fucking ears. I never said you were stupid; I said you sound that way. You’re hearing what you want to,” I told her, continuing on my way. I stripped off the rest of my clothes and turned the shower on.
“I’m glad I gave Victoria Catalina’s phone number. It’s obvious you still have some soft spot for her,” I stepped into the shower and looked at Dior and laughed at what she said.
“You really think you know my mother? You think what you did isn’t about to backfire in your fucking face? You don’t know Victoria; you’re about to regret what you did, and I’ll be right there to say I fucking told you so,” I said, laughing even louder before grabbing my body wash.
“Fuck you, Phillipe,” I knew she was really mad because she never called me by my government name. I’ll go ahead and sleep on the couch tonight. I’d do what was needed, so I wouldn’t strangle Dior in her sleep.
I woke up feeling like I couldn’t breathe, as if there was a crushing weight on me. Prying my eyes open, I saw Lotus curled up on my midsection, dead asleep.
“Lotus, I know you fucking lying. Get your big ass off me,” I said gently, nudging the dog so she would wake up and hop off my body.
I frowned as I tried to move; every inch of my body protested from spending the night on the couch. “Mothafucka,” I complained, holding my back as I sat up. I paused and looked around. The house felt strange somehow. Picking up my phone, I saw it was 6:30 in the morning. I can’t recall the last time I slept this late. It must have been the alcohol and weed. I noticed I had a text from my mother and opened it.
We’re having breakfast at the main house this morning at 8 am. Please don’t be late, dear.
I read the text a second time, wondering what this breakfast was about. It was too late to do my morning workout, so I would hop in the shower and get dressed. I knew Dior wouldstill be asleep, so I had to wake her ass up. I felt like I slept on the floor instead of the sofa. I held my lower back as I opened the bedroom door.
Noticing the bed was empty, I didn’t think anything of it. I just assumed Dior was in the bathroom, so I walked over and opened the door. I got the shock of my life when I realized she wasn’t in there. Pinching between my eyes, I walked back to the living room and toward the front door. Just looking at it, I could tell that it was unlocked. Grabbing the knob and turning it, I cursed under my breath when the door opened.
Standing on the porch, I stared at the empty spot where my Bugatti was supposed to be. I felt blood run up to my head because Dior was really trying to get under my skin. I had no idea where she went, but she had better be at the main house.
Marching angrily back into the house, I found my cell phone and dialed my mother’s number.
“Phillipe, honey, why are you calling me? Hurry and get here so we can eat,” my mother said, answering my call on the first ring. I rubbed my forehead because I swear I kept losing my wife and always had to ask my father or mother where the fuck Dior was.
