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  Heaving as if she were short of breath, she asked, “You’re kicking us out over that bitch?”

  “No, I’m kicking you out. My kids are going to stay with me.”

  I looked her over, appreciative that she had put on clothes, shoes, and a coat because she was ready to follow me and act a fool.

  “She don’t even love you,” she insisted as she followed me to the door of my condo.

  I chuckled. She still didn’t get it. She still thought this was about yet another situation that wasn’t real.

  I opened the door but stood, blocking her way in. I reached into the pocket of my shorts for the wad of cash that was inside. I gave her all of it. Every dime. “Go to your aunt’s, Maya. I’m done. And if you want me to keep helping you until you get on your feet, you won't act a fool when I close this door on you.”

  “She doesn't want you, Dame,” she cried.

  I shook my head, ashamed of myself that I had given so much to this fool for so long. I stepped back into the condo, holding the door in my hand. Before I closed it, I told her regretfully, “She might not, but I know you don’t.”

  Nina Eze

  “Shit,” I giggled as I drunkenly dropped my house keys.

  When I bent down, I felt the world spinning beneath my feet.

  I wasn’t so drunk that I was numb to how cold it was outside, however. The wintry winds were blowing straight up my pencil skirt. Therefore, I hurriedly scooped up the keys and focused on getting them successfully into the locks.

  It was only a little after midnight. However, I’d left Tempest’s bachelorette party early to give her a chance to let her hair down without her mother being there. Besides, someone had to be sober and alert early in the morning to meet the wedding planner at the church.

  I had chosen every detail of the wedding; from the live band, to the décor and menu, down to the types of petals that the flower girls were going to throw down the aisle. I was so appreciative that Tempest had allowed me to take charge. I was shocked. If it were God’s will, this would be her only wedding. Yet, she had no problem with simply agreeing to my choices. In my heart, I knew that she had let me do it because I had never had a chance to have the wedding that I wanted with her father.

  Sure, I had married Amaechi years later and gotten the fairy tale wedding of my dreams. Yet, it was only a fairytale because of the atmosphere. I had gotten the twenty-thousand-dollar dress. I even had arrived at the church on a white horse. I felt like Cinderella that day. But, on the inside, I knew that I was not marrying my prince. My prince, Terrell, Tempest’s father, had died, and I knew that I would never attain a love like his ever again in my life.

  I hoped, however, that I would come close.

  I hadn’t, though.

  I was a smart enough woman to realize that I was nowhere near as in love with Amaechi as he was in love with me. However, my mother had always taught me to be with a man who loves me more than I love him. Her reasoning was simple. She had always taught me to seek a dominant man. But those types of men find it hard to share control. If a man loves you more than you love him, he will be more likely to treat you well. He will more likely concede to your desires. That’s why Terrell adored me. He worked hard to show me and Tempest how much he devoted his life to our existence. And, eventually, I fell in love with him just as deeply.

  However, I never fell in love with Amaechi, as I’d hoped. Marrying him instantly changed my tax bracket. Suddenly, I was swooped out of the hood by a Nigerian prince into the lap of luxury. I thought he was a godsend. But as the years went by, my love for him was mediocre at best. Yet, me and my daughter were well taken care of, so I dared not leave, especially since legally, I would not get anything if I left him.

  Walking into our four thousand square foot estate was always jaw-dropping for me. We had been living there for fourteen years, and I was still amazed at the artistry that I lived in.

  I kicked my shoes off at the front door and quietly padded through the house, in order not to wake Amaechi.

  I was on my way up the winding staircase until I heard a light thud behind it. I froze mid-step. Curiously, I went to investigate what that sound had been. We currently lived in the burbs now, but I was still a hood bitch at heart, so I didn’t find it necessary to wake Amaechi because I wasn’t scared of anything or anyone.

  I quietly tiptoed through the dark foyer towards the back of the house where I had heard the sound. A dim light was coming from Amaechi’s office, as if only his desk lamp was on. Curious about what he was working on so late at night, I crept towards the door.

  I heard the thud again. In result, I jumped a bit, holding in a shriek. I froze in place, attempting to listen closely. Yet, all was quiet then, oddly.

  I tiptoed towards the door. A small crack allowed sight into the office. Only his desk light was on. Even against the dim light, I could see his dark face planted against another. I squinted, fighting with my aging eyesight to peer through the dim light in order to see who this was that was kissing my—

  “Oh!” Before I knew it, I had shrieked with shock and humor. “Oh shit!”

  Fumbling and loud thuds now accompanied my cackling laughter as I burst into the office and flipped the light switch on.

  “Nina, what are you doing here?!” Amaechi fussed. “Shouldn’t you be at the bachelorette party?”

  I folded my arms across my chest. A sarcastic smirk traced my red-painted lips as I leaned against the doorframe.

  I looked to my left, smiling. “Hi, Rick.”

  All color had left Rick’s face. He fumbled to fasten his jeans, but his hands were shaking so nervously that he was failing.

  Yet, leave it to my husband to remain cocky and unfazed as if I hadn't just caught him making out with his son-in-law. “Nina, I asked you a question.”

  “Nigga, please!” I cackled, and his eyes bucked. I looked at Rick, telling him, “No worries. I won’t tell a soul. Just make sure that your boyfriend gives my daughter every dime she is owed, and extra for taking all the shit she has from him and your wife. Otherwise, I will be all over every fucking blog spilling the tea about the NFL player that is fucking his real estate tycoon father-in-law. Play with me if y’all want to.”

  I turned on my heels and pranced happily away from the office door. Amidst my giggles, I could hear Rick and Amaechi quietly bickering. I trotted up the winding staircase relieved, instead of heartbroken. I was giggling so hysterically that tears were coming to my eyes as I went into my master bedroom and locked the door behind myself, in order to keep Amaechi out. As I said, I had never been in love with Amaechi. I was simply dealing with him in order to ensure that me and my daughter were never in another position that had caused that fire seventeen years ago. There were many times that I wanted to leave Amaechi, but I thought about the money that my daughter was going to inherit. Therefore, I endured this mundane marriage. I had been so giddy that she was getting married, not only because she had finally found someone who unconditionally loved her, but because I could finally walk away. I didn’t care if the prenup would leave me without a penny, even if he cheated, because now my daughter would have everything.

  Chapter 18

  Tempest Murphy

  “He’s going to come, Tempest,” Erica tried to assure me.

  My eyes slightly rolled while I nervously chewed on my bottom lip. I stared at my phone, hoping to soon get a message or call from Dane saying that he was on the way.

  Though he had assured me that he was coming the night before, I wasn’t convinced. He was so angry that I felt like he still wouldn't show up as promised, leaving me humiliated in front of everybody. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. I wanted so desperately to enjoy this day. Even though it was all a façade, it might have been the only wedding day that I ever had, so I wanted to be in the moment and enjoy it as best I could.

  “Calm down,” Erica whispered, standing in front of me. “Don’t draw attention to yourself. Don’t give yourself away. You're almost there.”

/>   Bending down, she wiped at my face. I hadn't even realized that I had shed a tear.

  I took a deep, calming breath and put my phone down. I stood from the bench and finally left the small changing room and entered the larger room given to us for hair and makeup at the church.

  Hearing me enter the room, the makeup artist faced me with a smile. “Ready?”

  I nodded, inwardly taking another deep breath. “Yea, I’m ready.”

  Just then, my mother burst into the room with this huge smile. “Heeey! You’re finally getting your makeup doooone!”

  Gosh, she had been so giddy all morning that it was irritating at this point. The woman was practically floating. She was as excited as I should have been.

  “Oh!” she shrieked happily, staring at her phone.

  “What?” I asked, climbing into the makeup chair.

  “The groom just arriiiived!” she exclaimed happily. “Let me go make sure that the photographer and videographer get him getting out of the limo.”

  As she happily twirled out of the room, I melted with relief. Looking through the mirror in front of me, I met Erica’s eyes just as she gave me a thumbs-up, accompanied by a huge grin.

  She could be elated all she wanted to, but I was still in a mood. I tried to plaster a fake smile on my face as the videographer and photographer came in and out, taking footage. Since arriving at the church, I had been putting on a brave front. However, on the inside, I felt completely defeated and heartbroken. It had been one thing to fake an entire marriage with a man that I, at least, got along with so that I could, at the very least, enjoy this day. Yet, with Dame and I at odds, this day felt like a burden.

  However, I kept thinking about my mother and my inheritance. The thought of her happiness and the seven figures that I was due, helped put a smile on my face as the makeup artist beat my face. My hair turned out perfectly. I was proud of my natural coils as they danced with life around my face. I was able to conjure up real tears as I slipped into my dress. My mother cried as the photographer took what felt like hundreds of pictures, until I was blinded by his flash.

  As the time drew nearer for the ceremony to begin, I fought the urge to text Dame. I wanted to know how he felt, what he was thinking. Yet, memories of how he treated and looked at me the night before danced in my head and kept me from doing so. I could no longer live in this fantasy with him. Whatever had been threatening to develop between us was over. I had ended it with my own self-destruction.