This nigga must’ve either lost his fucking mind or he thinks I’m still the same dumb and naïve Tierra from high-school and college. I know muthafucking well that dinner did not extend till after 10 o’clock and THEN they wanted to see the facility this time of night for a damn run through. Seriously? Seriously Markel, you couldn’t do any better than that? If that muthafucka starts cheating on me again, I swear to God I will fuck his world up. Not fuck his life up, fuck his world up.

I paced back and forth in our bedroom and stopped in front of our mirror. I figured I would make tonight sexy since we couldn’t make it to dinner. Here I am looking stupid in this Victoria’s Secret red, laced corset with garter belts, matching red thigh-highs and five inch heels; I’ve got champagne, chocolate covered strawberries, whipped-cream and hand-cuffs, and this ass-clown is probably out screwing someone else. I stared at myself for a long time. For the life of me, I just didn’t understand what was wrong with me? How come I wasn’t enough and what was I lacking that made him seek whatever the fuck he was seeking from other women? I know I’m not ugly and I know I’m far from bad in bed. So what the fuck was it? I shook my head and swallowed back a glass of champagne. I dumped the strawberries and whipped cream in the trash and took off the damn Victoria’s Secret and opted for a boring-ass t-shirt. I was about to throw the champagne in the trash also, but nah! This is too expensive to be meeting a trashy demise. I poured myself another glass and drank it back quickly before putting the bottle in our little mini fridge. I turned out the light and climbed in the bed. He better not even think about getting any tonight. I’m on strike…

I woke up to Markel standing in front of the dresser as he got his things ready for work. I stretched and was getting ready to say good morning when his back grabbed my attention. I stared at what looked like scratches on his back. My heart raced and I looked down at my nails… which I wore short because long nails on a caterer just didn’t seem professional to me. I looked from my nails to his back and stared at him for a long time. Long, red, nail scrapings stretched across his back, from the center going over the right side of his back and from the center going over the left side of his back. Not only did he lie, but he cheated and had the nerve to give that bitch the business with MY dick! A little voice in my head said, “Keep Calm, Tierra. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned without a pre-nup.” I took a deep breath and got out of the bed. In my mind’s eye I saw myself walking over to him and smacking the bullshit out of him before grabbing the lamp and busting him upside his muthafucking head. But instead, I wrapped my arms around his chest and stood on my toes so I could kiss his cheek.

“Good morning, baby,” I said as I looked at him through our mirror.

He grabbed my hand and kissed it. “Good morning, babe. Are you okay?” he asked me. Fraudulent bitch.

I smiled my beautiful smile and said, “Yes, I’m great.” I grabbed some under clothes and a towel. I went in the bathroom and locked the door so I could get showered.

I was not going to cry, not to sound like Mary J. Blige, but I was not going to cry another time because he still insists on disrespecting me. I was not going to shed a fucking tear over the foolishness. I also was not going to let him get away with this shit again. I went so many years keeping quiet while he cheated and ran around with those bitches and yeah I did my payback dirt, but call me Karma, bitch. I make shit come back around after it goes around. And I never, EVER would have cheated on him had he not been cheating on me with those dingy bitches. I never would have disrespected him the way he has disrespected me for so long. I have been nothing but good to him during our marriage. I cook, I clean, and I keep the kids in line all while holding down a career. I nurture his ego; I fertilized his dreams and helped them to grow! I keep my body tight. I make sure I look good every fucking day even when I feel like I have one foot in the grave and I’m so exhausted I’m positive I’m sleeping with my eyes open. I give him everything and this is the fucking thanks I get! Men always claiming they want a good woman that can hold them down. A good woman that can cook, looks good, is smart, has good credit and can fuck. I’m all that and then some! And this is what the fuck I get in return? Nope, I’m not finna cry over his ass. I’m not finna shed one single tear again…