Secrets of a Kept Woman (Volume 1) Read online

  After spending a few agonizing minutes in prayer, the uncontrollable anger that had attempted to overtake me gave way to tears that flowed freely for the next few minutes. Feeling as though I were having an out of body experience, I finally found the strength to rise and went into the bathroom to freshen up and rejuvenate my face. I was on autopilot, and with nothing but God holding me up, I managed to put myself back together. I stood at the top of the stairs in my pink negligee, and even though I knew exactly what was holding him up, I collected myself, steadied my voice, and called out, “What’s taking you so long, baby?”

  “Uh. Just getting us some wine for you, Shay. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Turning around, feeling like a zombie, I walked back into my room and sat on the bed waiting for my husband to ascend the stairway. For the first time in our entire married life, I felt numb and detached from my own feelings. For one crazy moment, I pictured him bringing Rhonda along, suggesting a threesome. I shook my head to erase the insane thought away. No, this was my game now. My husband and his wench weren’t calling the shots anymore, despite what they might think.

  The famous poet, William Blake, said it best – in love, there is a smile of love and there is a smile of deceit. Then there is the smile of smiles in which those two smiles meet.

  Chapter 13

  Gladys

  “Honey Love?”

  The warmth from the baritone whisper against my ear sent chills up and down my spine warming my entire soul from the inside out. I stood frozen, trapped in a moment of time, yearning for that moment to transform into years earlier when those two words meant safety and security. I was frozen as the familiar smell of mahogany overtook my senses. I didn’t want to turn around and face the owner of that sensual whisper and delightful warmth, because to look into the eyes of the owner of that voice would send me to a place that would be detrimental to my livelihood as I knew it. Oh, but how I’d craved to go wherever this man’s voice led the way to.

  “You’re still as beautiful as you were the last day I laid eyes on you,” he said with his customary sultry swagger. He placed his right hand on the small of my back and gently massaged the tension building there.

  Internally (at least it felt internal) my entire body had formed into a beautiful smile – the kind of smile that starts with your cheeks and works its way down to the skin of your feet perking up every muscle along the way. I knew my face had to be perfectly rosy from surprise. I could feel myself slipping into a passionate fury, because this man – the man blowing his hot alcohol-tinged breath into my right ear – I have loved for years, even in his absence. Especially in his absence.

  “Maverick?” I took a long breath and slowly turned to face my past lover. And boy was he as stunningly handsome as he was eight years ago at Albany State. Still, I was taken aback by how much he’d changed for the better. Once tall and slender, he was now tall and muscular with stout muscular shoulders showing even through his buttoned-down shirt. He looked as if he could have walked on as a starter for a NFL football team. As I allowed my eyes to slowly survey every inch of his body, the one thought that continued to cross my mind was how he sexy he was.

  Seemingly oblivious that being in such close proximity to me was affecting me, his full and sumptuous lips began to move. I knew he was probably speaking words that I needed to hear to hold a normal reunion conversation, but I was tone deaf for the moment. His words were lost in the sauce as I took in another sip of my drink and glanced over his body taking longing surveys of the man that I had once called mine. He was dressed leisurely in a blue buttoned-down shirt, blue jeans and white tennis shoes, but his physique would look fabulous in anything. He was definitely sporting the ensemble he had chosen well. As I nervously held onto my drink, I imagined the mounds of beautiful skin underneath his clothes. Before I knew what had happened, the drink was completely gone, and I was sipping on air. The loud gurgling sound from my straw snapped me back into reality. It was then I could finally hear the words coming out of his mouth.

  “Dang girl, I’ll buy you another drink. You don’t have to sit here slurping on that one until all the bubbles are gone out of it.” As he spoke, his dimples sank in on either side of his chiseled face. I melted into the floor. He let out a loud chuckle, and I couldn’t help but join in. I was positive that I had been making a fool out of myself, sitting there mesmerized and gawking over the sexiness that he exuded, without realizing the power he still had over me. I couldn’t help it. The man was fine enough to become somebody’s drug habit. I could see myself becoming addicted to him all over again. Not only that, I had received the pleasure of getting to know him intimately. I remembered our kindred spirits dancing as one, and how attentive a lover he was. I had not forgotten his tender touch, his passionate stare as he loomed above me, exploring my nether regions with his own.

  I remembered how nice and considerate he could be for absolutely no reason at all. Flowers on Tuesday, just because, was nothing for him to do. I remembered how much he had loved me, once. More than that, my heart had never forgotten how much I had loved him. Some mistakes from our childhood we pay for with our entire lives.

  Speaking of how good he once was to me, I realized that his sexy self had to have a woman somewhere. There was just no way a qualified chica had not snatched him up with the intentions of never letting go. No, not this hombre. He had ‘TAKEN’ written all over him.

  Then my mind went there. I didn’t want to go there, but I did. Maybe it was the woman that he cheated on me with in college, I somberly thought. Even though I had never even met her, a vision of the woman I had dreamt up way back then found itself in my mind. I had pictured her to be an Asian woman with long jet-black hair down to her waist. Maverick had spoken a few times about wanting to study abroad in Asia, and I could just see him with an ornamental oriental on his arm. Suddenly, my mood was sour – like hot ‘n sour soup.

  “I’m sorry, Maverick. You really caught me by surprise. Seeing you after all of this time, let’s just say it’s overwhelming.”

  He took a step closer to me, tucked a stray curl behind my ear and said, “When I saw you sitting over here I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, because I was beginning to think I would never see you again.”

  The words he spoke were completely innocent, but the passionate undertone that burned at a nice simmer in his eyes spoke in volumes. Volumes I was in no way prepared to handle. The way he said “…beginning to think I would never see you again,” sounded to me like he’d wanted desperately to see me again during this lifetime. However, I didn’t want to read too much into his statements. After all, I was a married woman so I couldn’t, in good conscience, follow up on statements like that. Attempting to turn the heat between us down a notch, I said, “Well, here we are. We meet again. What kind of business are you in town for?”

  “I live in Miami now,” he said, taking a seat in the empty barstool beside me.

  “Wow! What is the chance that the two of us would end up in Miami, at the same hotel, on the same weekend?”

  “I come to this bar quite often, because they have the best bourbon chicken wings in town. But as far as chance, if you remember correctly, then you already know my theory on chance.” He nonchalantly smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

  Oh, I knew his theory all too well. “Nothing in life happens by chance. Everything we encounter has purpose,” I said, and had a quick impulse to grab for my drink, but he caught my hand before I could do so.

  “Exactly.” He said, looking deeply into my eyes as if he was searching for something he had once left there. He paused for a moment allowing his theory to take its full effect on me. “You remembered.”

  “Yes, what did you think I would forget?”

  Instead of answering, he smiled and changed the subject with a compliment. “You are looking good. How has life been treating you?”

  I definitely didn’t want to think about my life and how it had been treating me, so I shrugged my shoulders and gave a
typical answer to his question. “I’ve been okay, and you?”

  Maverick let his hand cover mine on the countertop. I attempted to act like I didn’t notice this, but the blush that was rushing across my cheeks betrayed my true emotions. He caressed my hand, his finger moving gently over my wedding band. The gesture was not lost on me. Then, he replied gingerly, “Just okay, Marisol? You’ve always deserved better than ‘okay,’ so I hope you are not settling for that now. You are an amazing woman.”

  My next words caught in my throat, so I sat silent. Settling for “okay”, or the “okie doke”, in life was something that Maverick and I never believed in back in our college days, but that was when we were naïve college students. It was a new day and age where grown up responsibilities, travesties, and reality had set in. It was funny how things changed, but it’s called reality. That was the real world, not the ideal fantasies of two young lovebirds, philosophizing underneath the trees.

  When I found my voice, I conjured up the enthusiasm to tell a convincing lie. “No, actually, life is great, Maverick,” I said, convincingly, nodding my head. Then, I switched to the one bright spot in my life that I could honestly sell him on. “I have two beautiful bundles of joy that keep me busy every day, a two-year-old daughter and a four-year-old son. Their names are Nazaria and Kelvin.”

  “Really?” If I didn’t know any better, I would say a tinge of disappointment settled on his face with that news.

  “Yes, and they are the reason that I wake up every morning – the reason that I work as hard as I do. They keep me going.” I nudged his strong shoulder, and asked, “Okay, how about you and yours? Tell me all about them.”

  “What about me and mine?” Maverick asked abruptly, suddenly tensing up.

  “Don’t play coy, Mr. Still-Fine-As-Hell. Who is the lucky lady?” I gently nudged his shoulder, again. I knew there had to be a video vixen tucked away somewhere. Or maybe his wife was the Fortune 500 executive type who was sharper than a thumbtack. Either way, I knew Maverick Douglas was not curling up at night alone. Anticipating his answer about a special someone and possibly children, I picked up my drink and took another long swig, hoping to quench the thirst that was building in my throat.

  He somberly said, “I don’t have a lucky lady. Still a bachelor looking for that special someone to share my life with, ya know?”

  “Excuse me, mister? You know you don’t have to lie to me. You can keep it real with me. I just knew someone would have snagged you up by now. There is no way you should be single.” I meant that. If I were still available, he would be my primary target of affection.

  “There are many women that have tried to ‘snag’ me. I just haven’t found the right woman to share the best of me with. I’m not willing to settle for just ‘okay’ in life, ya know? I’m searching for the extraordinary. In order for me to make anyone my wife, she is going to have to take my breath away just at the mere sight of her.”

  He once again covered my hand with his and continued, “There was this one girl that I was in love with once. Since being with her, I’ve never found another girl to compare. Unfortunately, I made a mistake when I had her. I was working so hard to make something out of my life – so that I could have something to give her – that I never got to show her how much I loved her. Since her, I haven’t been able to love anyone else quite the same. Now, she was the one – a woman that will always be special to me. If I had her by my side, I would be complete. I guess I’ve been waiting on the time that we would meet again, and I was hoping that if the stars were aligned just right when that meeting occurred, I’d have another chance at love.”

  The depth of Maverick’s words touched me so deeply that I sat frozen, wishing that I were that invisible woman he spoke so affectionately about. If only he felt that way about me eight years ago, we would not be sitting here having this conversation. I would be Gladys Marisol Douglas with a house full of little amazing Douglas children. There was a time I would have gone to the ends of the earth for this man. However, it was what it was. I went with the flow and sat quietly, listening to him profess his undying love for this woman who had broken his heart. It was more than I could bear.

  “I know that losing this woman was hard on you, Maverick. Trust me; I know the kind of loss you are talking about, all too well.” I took another sip of my drink, forgetting that there was no more liquid libation to satisfy my thirst, and slipped down out of my seat.

  “I have an event that I’ll be attending in a few hours, so I guess this is goodbye. Until next time…” I said abruptly, hoping to get away before any more raw emotions slipped up on me that I wasn’t anticipating.

  I didn’t have an anywhere to be in the next few hours, but the pure sight of him was more than I could bear. Hearing him talk about the special woman that had slipped through his fingers was more than an ear full. He suddenly looked panicked, as if he had lost control of the situation.

  Instinctively, I planted a kiss on his cheek, allowing my lips to linger a few seconds more than what would be deemed cordial. The familiarity in our connection had me wishing I could take him back to my room and make love to him one last time. At that thought, I knew it was time for me to part ways with the quickness. Not only was he spilling his guts about some other woman, but I was married and visibly still in love with him. The whole scene was definitely not good for the soul.

  “Take care of yourself, Mav.”

  “You too, Marisol,” he said softly, avoiding my eyes and looking at the ground as our once intertwined hands gently slid apart. I quickly made a hasty retreat, careful not to look back.

  Chapter 14

  Shayla

  To my surprise, Titus made a point of staying at home the rest of the evening wining and dining me, and acting like he had not just gotten down and dirty with Ronnie in our den. I impressed myself with my ability to hide my true feelings and slip into my own duplicitous disguise. With disgust rising in the pit of my stomach, I had to look at his conniving ass flaunt around the house, waiting on my every beck and call as if he was the husband I’d dreamed about many nights when he was away. We were lying in our bed after another round of amazing sex, where I had managed to divide my mind and my heart from my body, when he announced his latest plan.

  “Shayla, I called The Pampering Queen over, so you have a manicure and pedicure appointment in the den at three.” Titus rolled over and placed his arm around me, a prideful grin covering his face. He was too proud of the arrangements he had set up for the afternoon to pamper me, as though a little nail polish would cover the deception he had used to taint our marriage.

  “Oh, really, now? I just had Queen over here yesterday hooking me up. Don’t my toes look fabulous?” I maneuvered my body to stretch my leg out until my toes were inside of his mouth.

  “Baby, everything about you is fabulous!” he said, before sucking on my big toe. “Don’t worry, I’ll cancel them, then.”

  That’s right. Suck, you fuggin’ dog! That’s why I made you take a bath before you even THOUGHT about touching me again today. I absolutely cannot believe how two-faced you really are. You must be pretty proud of yourself. Two women on the same day, in the same house? You clueless jackass. My thoughts were vividly vengeful, but the sickly sweet smile on my face hid the venom I possessed inside.

  He’d even planned a surprise trip to New York by private jet for us to attend a Beyonce’ concert that night. I accepted the invitation willingly, letting him spend money on me like tomorrow would never come. I thought about the fact that just days ago, I would have been on cloud nine enjoying this trip with my gorgeous husband, and now I could only laugh at his spastic actions.

  Talk about guilt eating a man alive! Titus’ little guilt bug must have eaten half of his insides by the time we got to NY, because even more surprising than the impromptu trip was his suggestion to walk in the park, hand in hand, on Saturday evening once we had arrived. Madison Square Park was a nice change of scenery from the countryside in West Point, Georgia, and I to
ok in every bustling minute of the fast city. I wasn’t going to let his wild indiscretions cause me to miss out on this great opportunity.

  We walked and talked as if we were getting to know each other all over again, and I made a point of not giving him one inkling that I was aware of his sordid affair with Rhonda. I allowed him to do his best to woo me, and I took some consolation in knowing that Rhonda was missing him that weekend. I wondered if she was at home, pining for my husband at that very moment while we were laughing and gazing into one another’s eyes. I hoped that she was trying to reach him, to no avail, and that she felt the way I did all of those nights I sat at home crying all alone.

  Saturday night, Titus and I relaxed in each other’s arms until the early morning hours in a five-star hotel that he chose because it was close to the airport. I was amazed that suddenly this man who had been so absent from our marriage for so long had finally decided to man up and show me some love – too little too late, I was afraid.

  When we returned home on Sunday evening, we were pretty much holed up at home. To my surprise, Titus never once checked his pager and darted out the door, yelling over his shoulder, “I gotta make a run, Shay!” He never once called one of his boys over to hang out, play dominos, and smoke. I didn’t have to tell him to give his cell phone a rest and pay attention to me. He was all about us, and only us, for the first time in a very long time.

  I allowed him to be the most attentive to me that he had been in years without once mentioning his trifling disloyalty. I put on a front as if I enjoyed his company that I’d longed for many nights before, all the while keeping his treacherous secret at bay. I soaked up every moment of my husband’s time that he had to offer, for I knew the time would come that he would have to get back to business as usual. Or was it that he was going to get back to lying about work and get busy sleeping with my best friend? The one thing that I didn’t want to deal with at this point was the elephant in the room – his inconceivable affair with Rhonda.