Secrets of a Side Bitch by Watkins Jessica

Author:Watkins, Jessica [Watkins, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub
Publisher: SBR Publications
Published: 2013-09-16T18:30:00+00:00

Simone

Something was wrong with Omari that night. He’d come into my house silent and agitated. It was obvious that a lot was on his mind.

For hours we sat damn near in silence watching a movie. Though he still held me as we sat closely on the couch, it was obviously something wrong with him.

There was damn sure something wrong with me.

At this point, Omari and I had been together for almost four months. I had never been invited to his home. Though he stayed with me until very early hours of the morning, he never stayed overnight or for days. I fucked with enough married men to know that those were moves of a man that had a woman at home.

The more I realized it, the more it broke my heart. It put me back into a place that I thought I had successfully escaped from. I thought that I had finally won. I thought that I finally had a good man that was mine and that I didn’t have to share. But, as he continuously excused himself to talk on the phone, an eerie and familiar feeling of heartbreak came over me.

“I gotta go,” he said as he came back into the living room.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“It’s late. I have to go to work in the morning.”

“You know you can stay here.”

With a fake smile that was suppose to convince me, he said, “I’ll never get any sleep if I stay, and I’m tired tonight.”

I saw right through that though, so I tried a different approach. “Well, I wanted to spend some time with you tonight. I miss you. Let me go home with you then. I promise not to bother you.”

“My house isn’t clean.”

I was devastated. As he slipped on his shoes, I realized that I was right back in the same shit. I was so sick of sharing a man. I was so sick of a man thinking me good enough to fuck, but not good enough to come home too.

I was so fucking tired of losing. I was so wrapped up in the feeling of finally having a regular relationship with Omari that I wasn’t willing to let that feeling go.

But I did let him go. I lovingly kissed him goodbye and looked into those beautiful gray eyes praying that my women’s intuition was just being a dramatic lying bitch.

“Oh, here you go,” Omari said reaching into the pocket of his shorts. “I told you that I was going to get you those shoes and handbag you wanted from Neiman Marcus.” As Omari spoke, he reached into his pockets, counted out what looked to be over fifteen hundred dollars and slipped it into my hand, kissing me on the forehead as he did.

I was short of breath as I told him, “Thank you.” I was fighting back tears as I let him out of the house. Regardless of my heart wanting to ignore the signs, my gut was kicking my ass.

So, as soon as I locked the door, I ran to my bedroom, slipped on a pair of flip flops and grabbed my car keys.

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