Fiction: The Truth Between Friends - Part 3
Fuck. I can’t believe I was this irresponsible.
Sigh. My life is crumbling before my eyes.
Amber walks back in the room.
“You ok? You look like you are going to cry again.”
“I want to. But I think I am all out of tears.”
“Ok. So you just sexed Alex for the first time, what happened next?”
…9 Month ago…
…The Next Morning...
Our Uber pulled up and Alex opened the door for me as I slid into the backseat of this Impala. Our driver is an elderly black woman. She is about my complexion and has a salt and pepper bob. She's wearing a lot of costume jewelry and she is adorable. She winks at me as Alex slides in behind me. I smooth out my wrinkled clothes from the day before.
“You two make a beautiful couple. How long have you been together?”
Alex answers, “We actually just met yesterday. But you are right, she is very beautiful.”
I smile at them both. His cologne is clinging to my body. It has this masculine yet outdoorsy scent. I love it. It reminds me of my father after he cuts the grass. I immediately get wet thinking of how Alex’s scent would smell on me, mixed in with my body oil. I glance at Alex, shyly. He’s all into his phone so he can’t see me stare at him. This man is fine and his lips, they are as soft as they look.
I attempt to regain my composure as we pull up to my house. I could feel the wetness in between my thighs.
“Thank you so much” I say to the Uber driver.
“No problem, I hope you two have a nice day.” She says and she winks at me again. I laugh.
Alex secretly hands her a tip. He isn’t slick. I unlock the door to my house and step inside. Alex follows behind me. I just moved into my house about 3 months ago so I was still decorating and buying furniture. The only thing that is completely finished is my bedroom and my workspace.
“I’m going to make us another round of cocktails and then I will give you a tour.” I unzip the back of my strappy black heels and put them in my shoe basket by the door.
“Do I have to take my shoes off?”
“Yes. I don’t want you to track your filth all over my carpet.” I answer jokingly.
My living room features an all black sectional that takes up most of the room. I love a comfortable couch. I am currently in the process of buying black pillows with different textures to take up the length of my couch. Pillows are my weakness. I have a glass coffee table in the middle of the room and a TV that takes up most of the wall across from the couch. I love football and I need to see everything that happens.
“Have a seat. The remote to the TV is on the coffee table. I have Netflix, Hulu, and ESPN so you can figure something out.”
He sits on the couch and goes back to his phone. His attachment to his phone would be a problem, but I also know he does a lot of work from it.
I go into my kitchen and fix my favorite, mimosas. This will keep me from getting a headache from all the liquor I ingested yesterday. I go back into the living room and Alex has finally relaxed. He’s turned the TV to ESPN, as I figured he would. The same highlights from this morning are playing, football injuries that have occurred in training camp. Luckily, my team, the Falcons didn’t have any.
“So what are your plans for the rest of the weekend?” I say to Alex as I hand him a drink.
“Hang with you, site seeing and a couple of meetings in the morning. I fly back out Tuesday.” He says after he sips his drink.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here this long. But ok. I can make it work. You ready for a tour?”
“Sure. I want to see where you come up with your crazy ass paintings.”
“They aren’t crazy! Just different.” My life has drastically changed in the last year. I was in a dead ass job barely making it month to month and I was stressed out of my mind. One of my friends, Jordan, suggested that I find some way to relieve some stress and I ended up going with painting. Initially, I painted just to make me feel better. I was celibate at the time and I used my paintings as a way to show how I wanted a man to take me. I started showing my friends my work and they started buying my pieces. One of my friends, Bea, put my artwork on her Instagram account and it went viral. I got so many requests that I had to quit my job to keep up with the demand. Alex called my pieces crazy because they usually depict some sort of sexual act. I knew he probably did most of those acts on a daily basis.
“So this is my living room, where you were sitting. The kitchen is there to your left and my least favorite room. I don’t like to cook. I'd rather watch other people cook. It is so sensual to me.”
“Do you know how to cook? I thought southern Girls were amazing cooks.”
“Oh I can cook, but only for people I really like.”
I lead Alex down the hall and into my studio. I transformed my second bedroom into an art studio. It is full of work that I started, work that I don't want to sale, and work that needed to be shipped out.
“Here is where I make my crazy pieces.” I watch his face as he takes in my studio. The walls are painted white and one wall contains a floor to ceiling picture of different sex positions from multiple cultures and religions. This wall is where I get most of my inspiration; the other walls just contain work that I am not going to sell. Most of it is personal experiences, good and bad. I am not ready to share that with the world, yet. Alex took it all in and just smiled.
“Well this changes things. I can appreciate you showing me what your life is like.”
I smile and blush.
“Ok, one more room left and the tour is complete; this is the most important room, it's where I get all my beauty rest.”
“You’re more like a beast if you ask me.” He says jokingly. I look at him and roll my eyes. He has quite the mouth on him. I open the door to my bedroom. My bedroom is nothing but neutrals, as the rest of my house is. The queen-sized bed is positioned in the middle of my room; it is my favorite part of my bedroom. An oversized headboard is the focal point in the room, a black, and velvet upholstery with a button, tufted design. The button are gold with vertical gold lines on them. I saw this bed at an estate sale and I was immediately in love. The bed cost $7,000 and I got it for $700! Talk about a steal!
Alex took in my space and looked around.
“You have great taste.”
Alex and I spent the day site seeing around Dallas. We decided to have dinner at this hotel and ended up fucking all night. It was a weekend well spent.
“How in the hell did y’all go from fucking all weekend to this?! You can fast forward, I know all of this.”
“Wellllllllll before we go that far, I’m pregnant."
“WAIT!! BITCH, you are pregnant?!?!” Amber screams, “Tasha, what the fuck!”
She snatches the margarita from within my reach.
"Hoe, you can't drink..." I see it click in her eyes. "You aren't keeping it?"
“Why? Who are you pregnant by?”
“Let me finish the story and everything will make sense.”
…3 Months Ago..
Alex and I are doing well. I really like him. We still had not agreed to be exclusive so I am still randomly dating other people but we see each other twice a month. I can work from anywhere, so sometimes I would stay out on the West Coast for weeks at a time. He did introduce me to his daughter. She is adorable and I can picture her becoming a permanent fixture in my life.
Wait. Become a step mom?! What kind of voodoo dick did Alex put on me?!? Here I am, a single woman, fantasizing about having a stepdaughter and even considering moving to L.A.
But we aren’t together.
Again, what kind of voodoo dick did he give me?
I really am in over my head. I head to my workroom and check my emails. Being back and forth with Alex has thrown my game off. I needed to refocus.
Drinking my green tea, I scroll through my emails; nothing but spam, a couple of clients sent payment confirmations, and an email from an undisclosed email address. I click on it.
I know you are dating Alex. It’s funny because I am dating him, too. If you don’t believe me, here is proof.
Please leave him alone. He’s mine.
I open the attachments. It’s screen shots of personal conversations where Alex is confessing his love for her; videos of them celebrating in Paris for his birthday. Photos of her giving him head, him giving her head.
I can feel the green tea threatening to come back up.
What in the hell? Who in in the hell is this?
I compose a brief, polite response:
I’m not sure what was the purpose of this. Deal with Alex about this, not me. Keep me out of your drama.
What crazy woman did Alex have trying to come into my life? And why is she sending me proof of their relationship? Weirdo bitch.
My notifications ding.
Bitch. I am dealing with you because we are engaged. Leave him alone or you will have to deal with me.
Bitch? Oh. She is playing with the right one today. I can show her what a bitch is.
I’m sorry. I can’t compute, he’s engaged to you, yet he’s here with me every other week, he's eating my pussy until I’m screaming his name. Again, deal with Alex, also how does my pussy taste?
She has life all fucked up. But she met the right one.
It’s fine. You will see me soon enough.
See me soon?
I call Alex.
“Hey baby, I was just thinking about you.”
“Alex, don’t fucking hey baby me. Why in the hell is there a girl sending me emails about you? She included screenshots of y’all text messages, videos of her with you on your birthday, extremely X-rated pictures. What the fuck is going on? She said she would see me soon.”
“Tasha, calm down and stop yelling at me. What are you talking about?”
“Don’t tell me to calm down. Matter of fact I’ll just forward the emails over to you. Call me back.”
I hang up the phone and forward the emails over to Alex.
He calls me back in 5 minutes.
“Tasha. That is not what you think.”
“Is it not? Because she said y’all are engaged. And I am not about to argue with her over you. So tell me what is going on.”
“She’s pregnant… with my child.”