Slipped:A Love Story Birthed In ChiraqBy: Cece S
“I’m sorry for everything tonight, y’all. Here I come.” To the back I rushed, going straight in the room and closing the door.
Happy Fucking Valentine’s Day to me.
Safe key in hand, I left the car keys on the dresser then grabbed my Puma duffle bag and headed to the back of our closet. Ever since we moved in here, Scotty had deposited big bucks into this very safe and has never taken a dollar out.
These are our passports for when the people come for us, was what he told me. I’m not trying to hear none of that shit now. These funds are my passport away from his stupid ass.
Putting the key in the lock, I didn’t have to do no extra jiggling. It came right open and I wasted no time filling that motherfucking bag to the rim with the money. I filled the bag until the safe was empty. Finished, I zipped it and left it at my room door.
I tiptoed over to the presents and picked up the card that was sticking out. All this shit was so thoughtful, it blew me. How the fuck can the nigga think of me so much, but still manage to get the next bitch pregnant? Go out the way and do this exact same shit for the next bitch too? I ripped the envelope open to reveal a mushy Valentine’s Day card with hearts that had I Love You in big cursive letters on the cover. In his sloppy chicken scratch, the inside read:
Baby you everything and I don’t know how else to show it to you. All this shit is for you and it's more where it came from, real talk. Happy Valentine’s Day!
“Lying ass bitch!”
After throwing the card, I proceeded to put on my heels. I had my ass in the air when my cousin barged in.
“Bitch is you ready?”
On my dresser she started rambling around.
“What you looking for?”
“This.” She had my weave brush in her hand and had started combing her weave. “You know if you don’t wanna go by yo self, I’ll call J-Money.”
“Noooo, J-Money,” I sang, walking up to get in the mirror with her.
J-Money is my ex that I was fucking with the whole first two years I was fucking with Scotty. My family always loved his ass, but I never quite felt as strongly as they did. A few years younger than me, he has a few kids now, and I’ve heard he’s been looking for me with a flashlight. I ain’t on that, at all. Looks wise? He got it. But where it counts? He all off! See, me? I like boss ass niggas. J-Money aint never been the boss, he was always the position right below the boss. I can’t help what I like. Boss ass niggas—I got it bad for them. And for obvious reasons, they got a thing for my lil’ pretty ass too.
“I heard he got his own joint now too, Stah’si, don’t miss yo beat.”
“Fuck him, he been missed his beat.” Turning to Lacy, I asked, “Can you believe Scotty?”
“Hell no.” She started brushing my bob for me. “You think he paying all her bills too?”
“More than likely.” I took the brush and started brushing it myself. She watched me. “She carrying his child, he better be. I can’t believe it.” I stomped. “And I was faithful to his ugly ass—faithful. I don’t do that. I don’t. On God, the old Stah’si back in full affect.”
“Aweee naw.” My cousin started rubbing on me. “Fuck him, he one nigga. Don’t let him mess it up for everybody else.”
“Fuck everybody else. Where they money at?”
“Un unnnnnn. I hope you just talking. You don’t need him, and if you need a job, you could start back at mine. I’ll holla at my boss.”
“You know I’m not getting a job, girl. You know better than to say some shit like that.”
She sucked her teeth. “Scotty not gon' keep paying for all this after all that shit just went down.”
“I don’t need him to.”
“Stah’si, this rent is high as fuck, you can’t pay for it.”
“I will.” I pointed at the door.
She followed my finger with her eyes. “How?”
“Don’t trip,” I nudged her. “I’m hungry and I have not ate a crumb all day. Let’s go!”
Grabbing the bag full of money, I put it in my car trunk before we headed out.
Jordan Steakhouse-Valentine’s Night.
“Remember, bitch, if you feel lonely it’s your fault. You could’ve at least let the man come to dinner with us first,” Lacy teased me.
“Stop playing with me, ugly ass.”
I hoped her heel got caught in the pavement and made her fucking fall since she wanna crack jokes, ’cause the shit not funny at all to me. She had cracked them on the way, and I thought she’d be done by now, but she was still at it.
“At the table, I want you to shut the hell up,” I murmured to her.
Her date excused himself to the bathroom.
“I don’t want any more Scotty jokes.”
A couple brushed past us.
“Why you getting serious? You know I’m playing.”
As expected, the restaurant is full of couples yapping and kissing away. It got me in an immediate funk.
“I know you ain’t about to cry?”