Women.
Be a man about it! About what? Her emotional autopsy gutted his insides, ripped out his beating heart, then tagged his toe with “John Doe,” like she’d done no harm. Like suddenly without cause he’d become a heartless stranger to her.
Women.
They always wanted men to forget their mistakes, especially after they’d told their cure-all truth. If a man lied to his woman, she’d nag the hell out of him, reminding him every chance she got. That’s why a man had two choices: bury the lie and never tell the truth, or bury his soul for the rest of his life. A man in love eventually forgot his woman’s lies, but his subconscious never forgave her. Ever.
A tear sat on his left eyelid as Darius struggled to disguise the bitterness in his voice. Lowering the divider, he instructed the limo driver, “Man, drive faster,” then raised the window. The ride from Oakland back to Los Angeles seemed a lot longer than the trip going.
For a moment, Darius chuckled, flashing back on how neither Fancy nor he had showed up at their wedding in Los Angeles. Instead, both of them ended up at the pier in Berkeley—the first stop of their first date—forever their special place. Darius would never take another woman there. Most women he couldn’t remember where he’d taken them. What he did know was Fancy had better not take another man there.
Yeah, Fancy was right. They were two of a kind. Over five hundred miles away from their matrimonial service, they’d stood on the planks next to Skates Restaurant, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Undoubtedly Darius loved Fancy. Fancy excited him in every way imaginable. Challenged him. Confronted him on his lies.
In his heart, Darius also loved Ashlee. Only God knew how much he loved Ashlee. Ashlee, no matter what the circumstances, supported him. Every man needed a supportive woman. Ashlee shouldn’t have had to carry his baby nine months without him. Bury their son without him. Now that Ashlee needed him, she shouldn’t have to deal with her illness without him. He’d already failed her several times.
Glancing down at Fancy while she slept, Darius thought, Stop trippin’, dog. Your commitment isn’t to Ashlee. You’ve got the finest woman in the world on your lap.
Darius had already revealed more of his skeletons than he’d intended to Fancy, but how could he explain to his fiancée the phone call he’d received from Ashlee? He couldn’t. Hopefully, things would work out and he wouldn’t have to.
Not wanting to seem selfish—it was too late for Ashlee but hopefully not for him—silently Darius prayed, “God, I tried to pull out, but, but you know how good sex feels. Right? I’m not blaming You, Lord, we know the devil made me do it. Satan, I rebuke you. Lord, I know I’m on my second set of nine lives, but thanks to You I’m on a winning streak. I’ve rolled the dice again, please let’s not crap out. Too many people would lose their lives.” Darius leaned closer to Fancy, making sure she was asleep, and then he quietly dialed Ashlee’s number.
“Hey, how are you?” Ashlee answered like she hadn’t just given him the worst news of his life, next to the day she’d told him their son had died.
Angrily, Darius whispered, “How do you think I am? Were you serious about what you said earlier or trying to fuck up my wedding?”
“I was at your wedding. You weren’t.”
Darius’s lips tightened. “So what you sayin’? You was gonna drop that shit on me in front of over a thousand people?”
“You mean like the way you dropped me?”
Darius became quiet, biting his bottom lip. His eyes automatically shifted to the corners whenever he lied or avoided telling the truth. He had no nonargumentative response, so he waited for Ashlee to say something.
“Darius, I need to see you.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, right now, or ever,” Darius replied, worrying how he’d feel about Ashlee if he did see her.
Firmly she asked, “Where are you?”
Darius whispered, “On my way home,” checking on Fancy, praying she was still asleep. Fancy was motionless. Eyes closed. Lightly breathing.
“Which home?” Ashlee asked.
Lowering his voice more, Darius mumbled, “The Valley. Why? What’s up with all the questions? You haven’t called me in months.”
“How close are you?”
Darius hissed, “Where are you?” then tightly ground his back teeth while flinching his jaw. Whenever his jaw tightened, Darius wanted to punch something or someone. Right now it was Ashlee.
“Close.”
“To what? Ashlee, don’t. Look, I can’t ignore what you said earlier, but right now I gotta go. Don’t call me. I’ll call you later.”
“I’m sick of being your fuckin’ puppet!”
Widening his eyes, Darius felt his forehead tensing in disbelief, giving him an instant headache, as he continued listening when what he should’ve done was hang up on the bitch. He didn’t mean to call her a bitch, but he hadn’t realized how attached she was to stupidity.
“Ashlee, please move in with me. Ashlee, please don’t leave me. Ashlee, I need you to work for me. Let me lick your pussy. Ashlee, let me fuck you! Well, I’m tired of being fucked!”
At any time she could’ve simply said no. Wasn’t like he’d held a gun to her head. Women. Was that why she’d fucked his brother?
“Doing every damn thing your damn way just to make you happy when you obviously don’t give a shit! About me!”
Maybe she should’ve given a damn about herself, less about him, and neither one of them would’ve had to have this conversation.
Ashlee continued, “So I’ma tell you the fuck what!” Gasping heavily into his ear, she softly said, “Better yet, hurry your ass home. I’ll talk to you when you get here.”
Like the bull he was, quick sharp puffs of steam hot enough to form smoke balls escaped Darius’s flaming nostrils as he shut his eyes, rolling his eyeballs to the top of the sockets. “Ashlee, you’d better not be at my house.” Darius wanted to exceed her anger but instead he said, “Fancy’s carrying my baby and she doesn’t need to deal with your nonsense.”
Darius could’ve simply said Fancy was with him, but Ashlee already knew that and that wouldn’t have convinced Ashlee to stay away from him. Damn, did he trust Ashlee wasn’t daring enough to trespass on his property that he hadn’t changed the locks? Fuck! How ignorant of him.
“Our house. I love you, Darius. I’ll see you when you get home. Bye, baby.”
Smothering his voice, Darius hissed, “Ashlee. Ashlee. Damn it,” then sucked in all the oxygen he could before blowing the hot air out of his mouth, fogging up the window.
A woman sure knew how to fuck with a man’s head. Heads. Both of his were in pain: one from not getting enough pussy and the other from hearing too much bitchin’. Was any of the shit Ashlee said true? Or was Ashlee jealous of Fancy and willing to do anything to keep him from getting married? Women.
How could Darius tell Fancy he was sorry he came in her mouth and that he couldn’t make love to her? Not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe never again. He definitely didn’t want Fancy to hear the bad news from Ashlee. Why, of all days, had Ashlee called him on his wedding day to fuck with him?
Interrupting his mental monologue, the limo driver said, “Mr. Williams, you’re home,” cruising into the driveway.
Darius lowered the rear passenger-side tinted window, staring at his house.
Fancy