Buy My Books and Support My Blog!

Buy My Books and Support My Blog!
Crystal Evans Books

“The idea that sex is something a woman gives a man, and she loses something when she does that, which again for me is nonsense. I want us to raise girls differently where boys and girls start to see sexuality as something that they own, rather than something that a boy takes from a girl.”

— Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

LAND FOR SALE

LAND FOR SALE

My Online Radio

My Online Radio

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

This Game of the Other Woman




I said it.
The hand on the clock stroke eleven pm and I smiled.
The insecure b*tch always loses and I knew her joy would soon turn to ashes in her mouth.
I glanced down at her through the bedroom window from the second floor, curtain slightly pulled back so that I could peek at the other woman whom in less than four months I had successfully usurped her position. She stood with a small travelling bag in her hand; tears speckled her cheeks as she pleaded with her palms turned upwards.
Dre spun his head violently. He raised both hands above in aggression and then interlaced his fingers behind his head. The girl’s lips puckered and she knelt on the ground. She turned puppy dog eyes up at him and begged with her hands clasped as if she was praying. He gritted his teeth and gently pulled her up.

I could not hear what he was saying to her but his furrowed eyebrows, pursed lips and tensed shoulders told me that anger smoldered inside him. The other woman was a blubbering mess.
Why wasn’t I happy?
I won!
Or did I?
I had spent the last three months since I discovered she existed, hating this woman for casting doubts on my relationship. He never told me about her. He said he was single. He did not ‘diss’ me, he dissed her for when I met him, he said she never existed. How can you love someone who does not own you to the women he meets.

I heard her scream. “I hardly ever had any choices in this thing. I just do what you want me to all the time”
I could not be happy at the scene unfolding before my eyes. When I looked at her; I saw a younger version of myself. Me: Ten years ago chasing the man I loved, making him my focus, our relationship my ultimate goal. I wanted to shake her. Why was she putting herself through this? I‘d done it before and when a man runs me from his house once, he does not have to do it twice. Giving up everything to make some cute boy the center of your world was a recipe for a tonne load of regrets.

I could not blame her entirely. I knew why she loved him. I imagine she loves the very same things I am fond of him for. The way his lips pull together like an insolent babe and he gazes with intensity when I say something witty or insulting. The way he sleeps with his arms wrapped around me and my head nuzzled in the crook of his neck that flowed into broad shoulders. The way he looked cute and innocent asleep and how he wakes me up with wet sloppy kisses. I imagine men made love to women following a pattern and if she was his main chick then she had experience those extraordinaire moments.

I grinned remembering how he rubbed his foot-bottom on my thigh and asked if they were rough and I laughed and said yes. I was in love with him and my tummy fluttered when he rubbed his toes against my instep. What woman would not go crazy over him? He had a way of making you feel like the most loved woman in bed.

He flailed his arms and I knew he would explode any minute now. “Girl you cannot stay here” He shouted.
His mother charged onto the Verandah. She shoved the little girl into her bedroom and spat.
“A so you expect fe live your life? A so you want treat people pickney?”
He retorted. “Ooman left me business. You chat too much!”
I scurried from the window and dashed into the bathroom.
I called my girl and chirped into the ear piece mike. “ Girl the lilly gyal outta door now”
Cion sucked her teeth. “ She’s a stalker”
I mumbled. “ I know right, I feel terrible for her”
Cion chuckled. “ You a ediat. Me woulda go down there go shame her. She no have no shame? Her shame tree mussi dead”
I chortled, whispered “I gottas go” and ended the call.
He plodded into the bedroom and gently closed the door. He grinned and peered at me from the corner of his slanted eyes. He sat on the bed and muttered. “ Saf large and in charge!”

I shrugged his hand from my shoulder and his pupils dilated. I refuse to celebrate this occurrence. This was no victory.
He took up the television remote and his jaw line hardened. “ A never this you did want? Every day you cuss me fe left the girl and now me do it. You a come act like you sorry for her”
I scoffed. “ Not really, I just don’t like how you deal with her.”
A sly smile crept across his blueberry lips. “You think me ago do the same thing to you don’t?” He asked softly.
“I do not know but a smart woman knows that when a man breaks one woman’s heart to make her happy that her dose of karma is never too far behind”
He pursed his lips like a toddler and muttered through clenched teeth. “Man can’t do nutten fe please you”
I wanted to throw my arms around him and taste his soft lips but I could not. I felt a wave of anxiety that had nothing to do with the girl sleeping in the next room

downstairs. He grinned and crossed his legs at the ankle. He turned the television set on.

He grimaced before throwing me a seductive smile. “You win baby! Hope you can handle it?"
What did I win? I was not happy. Instead I felt an immense level of pressure. I was not sure if I really wanted him or if i could be all that he needs. The future was uncertain. All i knew was that i loved him and karma was a bitch.

I was supposed to be happy but could not celebrate. ‘Unfair game play twice’. Who knows? I might be the woman crying on his porch begging for a night’s sleep in a few months. The clock stroke midnight. Today was a different day.
Copyright © 2015
The Bunna Man
Crystal A.Evans
Available in Ebook soon

No comments:

Post a Comment