Page 2

ONE WEEK LATER…

The sound of someone entering my apartment startled me awake. Quickly, I grabbed my pepper spray I kept in the nightstand beside me as I threw the comforter off my lap and climbed from the bed as soundlessly as I could.

As soon as I stepped into the hallway, I spotted AJ standing there and looking extremely stupid. The nigga had been sending flowers, gifts, and calling me nonstop ever since I found out he had a wife at his work party.

I noticed, though, that he only called and never attempted to stop by, which told me he was laid up with his wife, creeping off to phone me when he could. The thought disgusted me.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I frowned, not caring about the roses he held onto tightly, appearing like his life was over. “You need to go.” I bypassed him for the door, but he grabbed my arm, making me snatch from him. I slapped the shit out of him, and he shut his eyes as if to dull the pain.

“Let me explain, Brina.” He blinked rapidly, clearly still experiencing a sting.

“It’s Ka brina, and no.” I always hated the nickname he gave me but suffered through it because I loved him, and it was a small hiccup in the grand scheme of things. But now, I wasn’t about to answer to that ugly shit.

“I love you. I don’t love her, and honestly, I never have, baby. It’s just, right now… I’m working on coming up, and it wouldn’t look good for me to divorce Zosia. When I fully make a name for myself and solidify my position in Hollywood, I’m leaving her ass, and I’m gon’ marry you. I promise.” He gave me a creepy smile like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to smile or keep looking sullen, so he chose an in between.

Folding my arms, I moved closer to him and said, “Bullshit. Now give me the spare key and get the fuck out.”

“Bullshit?” His lip curled in disgust like he was offended that I didn’t fall for his story time. “Ain’t nothing I say bullshit!”

“Oh, no? When you told me you were single, that wasn’t bullshit? Or that you loved me and couldn’t wait to have me as a wife? That wasn’t bullshit?”

“Nah, it wasn’t, and I’ve felt single for years?—”

“Nigga, shut the fuck up and get out of my apartment!”

Seething, he replied, “Your apartment? Last I checked, I paid for this shit. Just like I paid for ya fucking car and half of that designer you got hanging in yo’ fucking closet! So how about you give me yo’ damn key and get the hell out!”

I was pissed, chest heaving, and ready to hit his ass again at the sound of his words. It was true what he’d said, and at the time when he’d offered all this shit, I took it, believing he was a good man and only wanted to do nice things for me. In hindsight, I hated that I had depended on a man who wasn’t even my husband in this way.

“Alright then. Give me a few days to pack my shit, and I will be out of here. I’ll leave my key, and I will leave the car in the parking structure.”

Sighing dejectedly, AJ massaged the bridge of his nose with his free hand, the other still clutching the bouquet. “Brina, baby, no. I don’t want that. I want you in this spot and driving that car and?—”

“Well, I don’t want that. I don’t want shit from your no-good ass. So like I said, come back in a few, and I will be gone,” I talked my shit.

Though I had depended on AJ, I still worked on my own career and had built quite a resumé as a celebrity makeup artist. So while I didn’t need AJ to pay for my lifestyle, it’d been nice not having to worry about certain expenses.

I wasn’t rich, despite my clientele being the who’s who of Hollywood, but I did good enough to take care of myself. Even better, I had a celebrity client this weekend—an actress who was getting married and had booked me to do her makeup as well as her whole bridal party. That was going to be a nice, fat check and more than enough to afford first and last on a new spot as well as a used car or a down payment on a new one until I got settled again.

“Aight then. Make sure you get the fuck out in a few days, and understand yo’ life ain’t gon’ be so fucking cozy. You gon’ be begging me to take yo’ ass back, realizing how much I loved you. That’s the problem with black women; y’all never know when a good man is in ya face and be wondering why you single.”

“That’s the problem with black men ; y’all think a working dick and a paycheck means you’re a good man. Good day, negro.” I shood him, almost wanting to laugh at the way his lips parted in shock.

Eventually, he made an about face and stomped out with an attitude like a toddler, and I slammed the door right behind his stupid ass.

After standing there in the same spot, just shaking my head and still in disbelief of how my life had turned upside down. I ventured to the back to brush, floss, and use mouthwash before hopping into the shower.

Once I was dried off, moisturized, and in a lounge dress that hit the middle of my thighs, I whipped up some breakfast consisting of oatmeal, fruit, bacon, and orange juice while I scoured the apartment hunting apps for something in my budget.

Before I could even finish eating my oatmeal, my throat jumped so violently I had to hop up and rush to my trashcan to empty my stomach. After vomiting more than I actually even ate, I paused to catch my breath before a very terrible ass thought hit me—I was possibly pregnant.

AJ and I had always been safe, but when we found out about his season renewal, we celebrated, getting caught up in the moment and didn’t use anything. I brushed it off because we were in love, and he was my endgame, but now I was regretting that.

Also, lingering in the back of my mind was whether I’d fucked Unique or not. But I wouldn’t be throwing up already… or would I? I’d never been pregnant, nor had I been friends with a pregnant person, so I had no idea how soon shit went into effect.

I cleaned up, re-brushed my teeth, and then went to the convenience store located at the bottom of my apartment building to purchase a couple tests. I couldn’t get up to my apartment fast enough, and when I did, I downed a bottle of water and waited a bit before I was able to pee on all four tests.

I paced and paced, praying the milk in my oatmeal had just been bad, or anything but being pregnant because I didn’t want that. It was the wrong time and the wrong man—whether it was Unique or AJ.

The timer set on my iPhone sounded off, making me rush into my en suite to see all four tests had come back positive.

Shutting my eyes, I plopped down on the closed toilet top, shaking my head at myself. I was pregnant by a married man or by a nigga who believed in poly relationships.

This was something I’d take to the fucking grave, though, because it was embarrassing as hell, no matter what way you looked at it.

I was booking the next appointment available to get it terminated as soon as possible. Nothing in this world could make me give birth to a child fathered by AJ, Unique, or any other taken man.

* * *

“Thank you for calling Keystone Medical. This is Deja. How can I help you?”

“Hi, Deja. I need to make an appointment for an abortion please.”

“Alright. Do you know how far along you are?”

“No, but it can’t be that far because it happened about a month and a half ago.”

I heard her typing as she said, “Okay. Will this be an out-of-pocket visit, or do you have insurance?”

“Insurance,” I replied, fishing my medical card from my purse as I sat in my car outside of the apartment building I was about to get a tour of in about twenty minutes.

“Okay, read me the number, please,” she requested. I did as she asked. “It says it is inactive.”

“That cannot be right. Let me read it again to be sure you have it right,” I said, chuckling a little bit.

“Sure,” she replied, and after I read it again, she sighed. “Yeah, it’s saying it is inactive.”

“Umm, okay. Let me call you back.” I hung up before she could say anything and immediately ventured into my insurance app. Right there it stated that it was inactive and that they’d attempted to charge my card, but the transaction failed.

Panicking, I logged into my credit card app, and there was a big red message, letting me know the card had been canceled. Only then, for some reason, did I remember AJ gave me this credit card. I’d gotten so used to having it over the past two years that I didn’t think about the fact that I had so much shit linked to it. More panic set in as I saw all the charges it had declined over the past week, starting from the day I kicked his ass out of the apartment.

Too frazzled to even go look at an apartment right now, I started my car that I’d just gotten from Nissan, brand-new, so I wouldn’t have to drive the BMW AJ had bought me, and peeled off.

I drove right toward the set of Dough Boyz, which I knew like the back of my hand because of the many times AJ had me there, parading me in front of everyone who knew he was married. The thought made me shake my head as I dipped through traffic on the 101 freeway.

After an hour of ignorant LA drivers and traffic, I was at the studio, pulling in with ease since the security at the booth recognized me, and AJ had failed to snatch back the pass he’d given me so I could visit anytime.

I shook my head again, thinking how crazy it was that he was able to make me feel so comfortable when he was married. Who would think that a nigga who gave you a key to his home, a pass to pop up at work, and took you to 90 percent of his public events would be cheating?

But then I remembered how whenever cameras were around, he would tell me to step aside, stating he didn’t want our relationship to eclipse his rising stardom. And I fell for it, recognizing how the media became so engrossed in a person’s personal life that it often times overshadowed their career.

I parked in the area I’d been directed to in the past and then climbed out, walking right inside of the large garage where a lot of scenes took place. It was like God was on my side because I spotted AJ’s ass right away, off to the side getting his makeup touched up.

“You cut off the card and couldn’t tell me, you bastard!” I snapped, and before I could charge him, I was grabbed by security.

“You think you ’bout to leave me and still use my fucking credit?” AJ frowned, and though I agreed with him, I was still pissed off.

Everything was linked to that card, including my website payments, booking application, and everything else important to me.

“I should’ve never trusted your stupid ass!” I grabbed a walkie from one of the PA’s hands and hocked it at AJ’s head, clipping him and making people around gasp while he checked his temple for blood.

“Let’s go.” The security held me tightly to him and turned to carry me out.

“I’m leaving!” I spat once we were outside, and he let me go but hovered near the entrance to be sure I didn’t come in again.

When I saw Unique walking out, I scoffed and started power walking back to my car.

“Aye, slow down, love.” Unique grabbed my arm gently, but I still moved from him.

“Unique, if you cannot tell, I’m having a very bad day and do not want to talk.”

“I see that.” He stepped closer, hitting me with the scent of his creamy but masculine cologne.

He was wearing the hoodie his character often wore, making him look very much like the drug dealer he portrayed.

Exhaling heavily, I scrunched my face in agony. “Matter fact, why haven’t I heard from you about the,” I moved closer to him and lowered my voice, “the annulment.”

“Right.” He stroked his beard, and the look in his eyes was something I didn’t like at all. “My lawyer wants us to meet up with him. I haven’t had the time because a nigga been traveling, but don’t trip. We got four years to annul the shit.”

“Don’t trip?” I chuckled. “So when can we meet with him? I really need to get this done, and I don’t understand why you aren’t as eager.” I frowned, realizing how lackadaisical he was.

“I am eager. But when I found out we got four years, I prioritized other shit. I ain’t just sitting on my ass, Kabrina.”

“I know. I know that.” I nodded. A part of me wanted to tell him I was pregnant, but then the other part wanted to keep it a secret. It was most likely AJ’s anyway.

After some silence, he said, “You know if you need something, you can let a nigga know, right?”

“No thank you.” I started off. “I’m done asking niggas for favors.” I hopped into my Altima. “Just get the meeting set up,” I said before closing the car door.

As I put it in reverse and sped out, I caught Unique still watching before a PA came out to reluctantly tell him to come back inside of the garage.

It took me forever to get home in this traffic, irritating me further, so when I got inside of the apartment, I wasn’t in the mood to cook. I needed to pack up all my kitchen shit anyway.

As I waited for DoorDash to deliver my order, my phone rang, and I saw it was Kerry Diaz, my actress client for this weekend.

“Hey, Kerry!” I answered in the most chipper tone I could, even though I was far from feeling chipper.

“Hi, this is Daniella, her assistant.”

That was a red flag, considering Kerry had been speaking with me directly this whole time, stating she was too particular about her makeup to have someone else handle this for her.

“Hi, Daniella. What’s up?” I stood from the couch, too anxious to stay seated.

“So, I know you were booked to come to Calabasas this weekend to do Kerry’s wedding party makeup, but she’s decided to go in another direction.”

“Another direction?” I felt the frown on my face. “Like she’s not going to wear makeup?”

Daniella laughed awkwardly before saying, “No, she’s going to get another makeup artist, unfortunately.”

“May I ask why? She’s already paid me the five-hundred-dollar booking fee, and that’s nonrefundable.”

“Yeah, you can keep that. She knows that. But um, if you want me to be honest?—”

“I do.” I plopped back down on the couch, stomach feeling so sour that I wasn’t in the mood to grab the food the delivery man had just left in front of my door.

“She doesn’t want you doing her makeup because it’s not appropriate. This is for her wedding, and she feels like any woman that would sleep with a married man doesn’t value the sanctity of marriage.”

“Okay, Daniella. I didn’t know that AJ was married. I mean, I think that is obvious by the video. No one knew except the people working on Dough Boyz so?—”

“Well, we don’t know that.”

“I’m telling you that though.”

“I understand, but Kerry no longer requires your services. As stated, you can keep the booking fee.”

Suddenly, I remembered who Zosia was, and Kerry probably didn’t want her career fucked with by using me. Could’ve been that or all the backlash I’d been getting nonstop for fucking a married man, especially the husband of sweet, innocent Zosia Jared née Tillman.

The main narrative was that I should’ve known better because he’s a man, and men are irresponsible. Anything to blame the woman.

It was like no one acknowledged that her being married to AJ was news to us all. Before I cut myself off from social media, I saw someone state that they didn’t believe for one second that I didn’t know since we were all in the same circle.

“Is there any way I can speak with her? I need?—”

“She’s standing right here and has declined to speak with you. Have a good day, Kabrina.” Daniella hung up before I could conjure up anything to say in response.

I needed that money. That was supposed to help me pay for my apartment, all my expenses that declined on that credit card, as well as keep me afloat for a bit until I booked my next job.

After getting a new car, paying first and last, movers, and all my expenses, shit would be tight for me until I got another big job. It would be fine though. At least I wasn’t broke and could manage. I would just have to try to get more bookings than usual.

It seemed like these past two weeks were truly testing my faith.