“Why are you being so mean, beautiful?”
“No reason
. Sorry I was rude. It’s just real late, and I’m dog-tired.”
“I understand. I’ll let you go. You take care, and I hope to hear from you. The ball’s in your court.”
When he walked away, I was enthralled with his ass. I began to wonder why single men go after married women but didn’t ponder over it too long. I tossed the matchbook into a wire trash can on the sidewalk and continued on to my car.
I got in the car and sat there for a few moments, sucking on a breath mint and trying to get my bearings together. I wasn’t drunk, but I wasn’t exactly sober either. I thought about how great the conversation between Tyson and I had gone before I decided to get bitchy. Then I thought about what Brina said about always having one riding the bench as a backup.
I pulled out the parking garage, stopped by the trash can, and put my hazards on just long enough for me to jump out and dig the matchbook out with the number on it. I drove home listening to jazz and endured the infamous all-your-friends-are-sluts speech from Jason before falling fast asleep.
chapter
seventeen
For a while, things went on as usual. I kept creeping around with Quinton and hoping that Jason would open up to me in some form or fashion. Mostly, I was praying like all hell I didn’t get cold busted.
Quinton pleaded with me dozens of times to leave Jason, but to no avail. I made it perfectly clear to him that leaving my husband was simply not an option. I admit I painted a pretty glum picture of my marriage to Quinton, but through all of our problems, I never stopped loving Jason for one second.
The little voice inside me kept telling me it would all backfire on me eventually. After all, nothing good lasts forever, and whatever you do always comes back to haunt you. I just couldn’t pinpoint when, where, and how the other shoe would drop. It didn’t take too long to find out.
It was a Friday night, and typically, I never visited Quinton on Fridays and Saturdays. I reserved that time for Jason and the kids. We would go out to dinner or to a movie and then cuddle up as a family and read books or play board games.
This particular Friday, I altered my routine and went to see Quinton. I had endured a rough day at the office, and I figured a round or two of hellified sex was just what the doctor ordered. My game plan was to swing by the loft, get my freak on with quickness, and head on home for a night of videos and microwave popcorn with the gang. If I’d taken my ass home from jump street, I would’ve saved myself a lot of humiliation, and inevitably, a hell of a lot of trouble.
When I got to the loft, the door was wide open like he was expecting me. I walked on in, but Quinton was nowhere in sight on the bottom level. I decided to tiptoe upstairs and try to surprise him. He wasn’t there either.
On my way back out, having no idea what to make of the situation, I heard some slow jams coming from Diamond’s loft down the hall. I sauntered on down there, hoping she could shed some light on Quinton’s whereabouts. I assumed he had made a run to a carry-out or convenience store or something of that nature. He couldn’t have gone too far with his place unlocked like that.
When I got within a few feet of her door, instinct told me to turn around. Curiosity made me keep walking, though. It was obvious she was throwing down with someone—I could hear the loud moans. My face flushed with anger. I almost half-convinced myself what I was thinking was wrong, but I had to find out if my suspicions were on the money.
Her door was slightly ajar. I gently pushed it open wider. Diamond was knocking boots with somebody all right, and that somebody was Quinton. He was banging the hell out of her up against the wooden bar spanning the wall of the room. The wall was covered with a mirror.
I just stood there for a few seconds, letting it all register in my mind. The tears built up in my eyes, matching the hostility that was already inside me. Droplets of sweat were trickling from their bodies. He hungrily took her left breast into his mouth while he caught a rhythm and started fucking her harder.
I was turning to leave when he glanced in the mirror and saw me standing there flabbergasted in the doorway. Before his skank ass could even yell out my name, I was down the hall, pushing erratically on the call button for the elevator. I pushed it about twenty times, even though once would have sufficed.
“Zoe!” Quinton came rushing toward me, pulling his pants up on the way. The pathetic bastard!
I started to not even acknowledge his ass, but the anger took over. “Let me guess,” I stated sarcastically. “You were helping her change a lightbulb when you slipped on a ballet slipper and fell in?”
“Zoe, listen to me please!” He grabbed my arm, and I immediately yanked it away.
“Don’t touch me, you, you, you . . .” I couldn’t even think of a word to fit the bill.
“What just happened between Diamond and I was a mistake,” he insisted. “It’s never happened before, and it’ll never happen again!”
He was not even fooling me! “Whatever! I don’t want to hear your pack of lies!” I banged on the elevator button again. “I just wish this damn elevator would hurry up!”
Do you know what that nucca did? He had the nerve to cop a ’tude with me! “Look, it’s not like you’re not fuckin’ married! You go home and lay up in the bed with him every night while I have to go to sleep alone!”
I held my hand up in his face so he could talk to it because I wasn’t listening.
“I asked you, hell, I begged your ass to be with me, Zoe!”
I knew he had a valid point, but I wasn’t going to allow him to turn the situation at hand around on me, so I asked him, “How long have you been fucking her?”