The Wife Of A Miami Boy 2: A Hood Love Story: The Finale by Lakia

Author:Lakia [Lakia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Twyla T. Presents, LLC
Published: 2020-01-24T06:00:00+00:00

12

Doe

The last few weeks at home had been hell! After Cheeky came over to my house dressed like she was headed to the strip club, we had a little talk. Cheeky laid it on thick about stripping being her only income. Since I wasn’t about to pay to put this bitch up in her own crib until I knew for sure this baby was mine, I said fuck it and let her move in. I quickly realized that she was good to fuck, but the bitch was annoying as hell. All she wanted to do was eat, watch reality TV, and gossip on the phone with her homegirl at the club. I had overheard enough about who was fucking whose baby daddy and who got their ass beat for stealing the next bitch’s tip money. I was starting to think that I was working at the club too.

Jayla might not have worked either, but that was out of love; Cheeky living off of me was strictly out of obligation. Sitting next to Cheeky as she cackled over the phone had my blood pressure up. I was sitting on the couch daydreaming about the night before I lost Jayla; she was beautiful in the outfit that I laid out for her that evening. Then I started to think about the fact that Moochie later confessed that Jayla was missing the morning of the wedding. I know that bitch was off fucking Q on our wedding day.

If I could go back and change things, I definitely would have done things differently. I would have never fucked Cheeky, and I would have never put my hands-on Jayla at the wedding. Now I understood why females always fought the other woman when they found out their man was cheating. If I wouldn’t have put my hands-on Jayla, I probably would have been able to finesse my way back into her life. Instead, I reacted without thinking. As bad as I wanted Jayla back after putting my hands on her and practically handing her over to the other nigga on a silver platter, she wasn’t coming back.

“Are you paying attention?” Cheeky interrupted my thoughts. “I said this is the stroller we need to order for the baby.”

My eyes glazed in on the phone and I took in the $4,000 Cross Balmoral stroller that Cheeky was referring to.

“What the fuck the baby needs a $4,000 stroller for? That cost more than the Honda you drive,” I eyed Cheeky.

“It’s a good quality stroller, plus it’s cute.”

“Well you better get out here and hustle for that shit. My jit will be just fine with a Walmart stroller set. Those mufuckas all roll the same,” I stood up, annoyed that Cheeky had the nerve to even ask for that shit.

“Why are you acting like you don’t have it? The last time I saw Jayla, she was draped in more than $1,000 worth of clothes and a nice Chanel bag rested on her arm,” Cheeky spat, hopping up from the couch.

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