The H.O.P. 1: Housewives of Philly a Novel by Kamah Scott Writing as Kima (Intro): The House Wives of Philadelphia by Kima & Kamah Scott

Author:Kima & Kamah Scott [Kima & Scott, Kamah]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Urban, 45 Minutes (22-32 Pages), United States, African American, Genre Fiction, Literature & Fiction
Amazon: B00ZVB01ZC
Publisher: Mind Ink Paper Books Kas Kamah Alicia Scott
Published: 2015-06-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

Grace

I thought that after our night out and dinner-date that things between Makai and I would be better. At dinner he fed me shrimp, shared my linguini and poured unlimited wine. Of course good things take time but I thought there was a cohesive element to our love. I was very deeply in love with Makai and every time he did something to piss me off, which was often, I pushed the thought of divorce to the back of my mind and thought about what the pastor said at our wedding, for better or for worse. Makai had me wrapped around his finger. However, this would be different. As I lay in the bed pretending to sleep and counting down the time, I was furious for many reasons. I contemplated packing up one day, taking my little Gavin, and moving. I wondered if Makai would notice. Would he only miss us after he realized that his dinner wasn’t ready or if his bath wasn’t steamed and ready for him. I hadn’t cooked dinner for 3 days before this night. It did nothing. Makai simply took off his work boots, hung his coat and grabbed the family size bag of Doritos and the chicken from Sunday night. He followed his same routine and even ran his own bath water. I cried myself to sleep.

I woke up to go the bathroom. I rubbed my eyes and stared at the alarm clock. It was a sleek new model Makai had brought home. He said he would rather wake up to music rather than hearing the loud obnoxious buzz that the alarm clock I had gotten him made. He was right. I would rather hear music and the morning show being as though Makai stopped talking to me. I was living as if I were a mute. In my own house, with my husband who claimed he loved me so much, but never touched me at night. That didn’t roll over in the morning with a hard-on waiting for me to satisfy his desire. I was a mute. Grace the mute. I peered over his shoulder and saw that it was exactly 12:45 am and 36 seconds. I didn’t bother to be too quiet. Once Makai was sleep, he was sleep. He was one of those folks that had to have someone pinch him or play something loud to make him wake up. He was also one of those that got up angry. As long as I wasn’t blowing a foghorn or playing a tambourine he was okay.

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