Bad as in Good (5 page)

“Who are you talkin' about? You kicking me out to be wit' another woman, Tariq?” At that moment, I snatched my arm from his grasp and refused to keep my voice down.

“No, it's not really like that but…” He searched his apartment for an exit plan and locked eyes on his bedroom. “I gotta get you outta here.”

“Why, Tariq? Let the bitch in. Apparently, you too scared to face her, so let me.” I was pissed at the idea of Tariq stringing me along. He had a girlfriend whose opinion he obviously cared about and now was standing outside his condo door requesting to be let
in. It was clear that I was his sideline ho, and I wasn't about to agree to the role easily.

Nevertheless, he pushed me back into his bedroom and pointed at his fire escape. “You have to go—now,” he said in demanding voice as his palms sweated and his voice shook. “I'll call you later.”

I didn't want his damn call in the morning, I wanted an explanation. I couldn't let him push me away while I scurried down his fire escape like I was some burglar. He was the one in the wrong, not me. Why was I fleeing as if I were the guilty culprit? It was Tariq who made me play the fool by toying with my emotions while he pretended to be a man he wasn't. “I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on.” I folded my arms over my chest and rolled my neck.

Tariq grinded his teeth and cut his eyes back at the door as her knocks persisted. “Can you go, please? Stop playing games.”

“Games? You called me over here at two in the morning, and now you want me to climb down some rickety fire escape so yo' girlfriend doesn't catch me. You got some nerve, Tariq.”

“She's not my girlfriend, Erin. I'm sorry, but I can't have you go out the front door, not now. I need you to leave. I'll call you later. I promise.”

“Who is she if she's not your girlfriend, then?” I stood my ground and pretended as if her knocks didn't irk my nerves like they did. When his phone started going off, I knew it was her. But she wasn't getting in unless I opened the door for her.

Tariq huffed and squeezed his fists. Shaking his head, he stared at his blinking phone and then sighed. “She's my wife.”

I felt a rush of anger flow through my body like a river. My arms dropped and my heartbeat sped up. Now, when she banged on his door, it did more than irk my nerves. Each knock felt like a blow to the stomach, and it took everything in me not to storm through
his living room and put us both out of our misery. However, for some reason, I stood there shaking my head and holding my breath.

“She's your what?” I didn't need him to repeat it, but something inside of me needed him to retract his statement.

He stepped back. He must've felt my growing urge to slap him. “It's not all what you think. We're separated, and I know it sounds bad, but I can't let her see you in my place.”

“Tariq, I can't believe you—”

“Look, I'll explain it all to you later. I promise I'll call you in the morning before you head to work. Can you please leave, now?” That time, he didn't wait for me to respond. He turned on his heel and closed the bedroom door behind him.

I contemplated going against my better judgment, cursing him out, and walking out the front door like a lady. Then I heard her voice. “Why the fuck weren't you answering the door, Riq?” she screamed.

Her sultry voice hinted at the possibility that she was a six-foot Amazon with long flowing hair, curvy hips, long legs, and piercing eyes. I felt threatened without even seeing her face. However, the pain in her voice was authentic. She was another hurt woman, victim to the power Tariq had in his hurricane tongue and kissable lips.

“I was busy,” Tariq, or
Riq
, assured her. “I was taking a shower and ain't even hear you knockin'.”

“I texted you and told you I was coming over. I need to talk and…you've been ignoring my calls and messages. You haven't been by to pick up your son. What's been up with you, Riq?”

With the mention of a son, I realized that it really was time for me to go. I wanted to go out the front door, but I couldn't think straight after hearing all that. Two minutes ago, Tariq was an asshole with a solid gift at making my eyes roll back. Now,
Riq
was a
husband and a father. Even though Tariq was an asshole, I'd prefer him over
Riq
. So, I didn't cause anymore stir. It wasn't her fault she married a dick. I didn't want to be the woman responsible for her failed marriage, even though it was really his fault. I grabbed my purse and slid out his bedroom window, still kind of hoping that he'd call in the morning.

•  •  •

“Bad case of the Mondays?”

I popped my head up off my keyboard and cleared my computer screen of the serious line of
b's
my forehead let scurry across my screen. I glanced up at my supervisor and smiled. I only hoped that my pearly whites were enough to get him to forget that he caught me sleeping at my desk at ten in the morning. “Morning, Eric.”

“Good morning, Erin. I see you're off to a slow start this morning.”

I chugged down a gulp of my black coffee and concealed the burp that was tempted to creep through my lips. “I had a long weekend, but I'm fine.”

“Fine enough to get to work, I hope.”

“Of course, Eric. I'm getting to that as soon as you leave. Did you need me for anything?”

My tall and husky superior eyed me up and down while rubbing the dry skin on the back of his neck. Whenever I had a bad day, I hated looking at him. His tall stature towered over me, judging me. His dark eyes were murky pools of resentment and superiority. The deep, rugged lines that cluttered his face looked like subway routes that couldn't find one destination. He had large hands that would engulf his coffee mug and tap the carpeted walls of my cubicle. He'd tap and tap while I cringed inside. His judgmental demeanor and his curly peppered hair stalked my frustration as I
faked a smile and hoped he'd walk away as silently as he walked in. I could try to not blame him for his piss-poor supervisory behavior and be understanding of his three failed divorces, but I didn't. He was a man betrayed by a woman, and like every other poor sap like him, he had to take it out on every undeserving soul that got in his way. After taking a small sip of his French roast, he shook his head and faked a smirk as he walked off. The look in his eyes was him warning me that he didn't want to catch me asleep at my desk again. I heeded his warning and got back to the stack of files cluttering my desk. I pushed aside my fresh new stack of business cards that read my brand-new job title: “Sr. Copy Editor” and sighed. I hoped my promotion would get Eric off my back, but with more responsibility, came more visits from the bitter Hispanic man with a score to settle with his black female counterpart.

I wanted to get to work. I wanted to tackle today's copy with zeal and vivacity, but after a weekend like mine, I was more interested in cuddling up in bed with a bottle of Moscato and goldfish crackers. Of course, Tariq never called. I'm sure he was too busy being
Riq
to his wife and son. It shouldn't have really mattered anyway. I left any chance of a future between us in the bedroom that I hid in while a woman came home looking for her husband. When I woke up in the morning, I dressed, wiped the tears I shed for another man not worth them, and headed in to work. As I stared at my computer screen, I felt myself drifting off again. I didn't want it to happen, but I was unsuccessful. Fortunately, the ringing of my desk phone caught me before my forehead hit the keyboard. “Iaras Advertising. This is Erin.”

“Why'd you stand me up again?”

“Loraine?”

“Yes, girl. Why did you stand me up this morning?

“What are you talking about?”

“We were supposed to go jogging this morning before we went to work. I was almost late to work, waiting on you. What happened?”

I breathed deeply and rubbed the skin between my eyes. “Tariq happened.”

“What do you mean? Did you two sleep together again? Are you two together or what?”

“Girl, no. That man had me up 'til about six in the morning.”

“Damn, girl, I didn't know he had it like that.”

“No, Loraine, it wasn't even like that. We were done by four somethin', but I had to climb out of his window, shimmy down his fire escape and then hike half a mile back to my car in five-inch heels since I couldn't find a dang parking spot in front of his place.” I shook my head as I replayed the night before in my head. I felt like kicking myself for actually putting up with this mess. “When I finally got to my car, I realized that I locked my keys inside. It took almost an hour to find a locksmith who was willing to actually drive into that shady neighborhood. I was lucky I didn't get robbed.”

“Why did you have to climb out his window? Why didn't you call Tariq? Why didn't you call me?”

“ 'Cause his damn wife came home.”

“What?” Loraine yelled through my phone. “He is
not
married!”

“According to him, they're separated. But he is still very much a married man.”

“He has never mentioned his wife at work. He doesn't wear a ring or have any pictures up.”

“Why would he? Apparently,
they're going through some things.”
I rolled my eyes at the memory of him saying that. “She came over to work things out.”

“How do you know that's why she went over there?”

“Because I could hear them talking right before I snuck out his bedroom window. According to her, he needs to be there for his son.”

“Oh my goodness, girl. I don't believe you.”

“Girl, I couldn't make this mess up if I tried.” I took a deep breath and shook my head. “You know I'm blaming you for this one, right?”

“Erin, how was I supposed to know he was married?”

“You talk about him all the time. Talkin' 'bout how great of a boss he is. I would hope you wouldn't hook me up with a married father.”

“If I knew anything like that, I would've never let you talk me into giving him your number.”

“Whatever, Loraine. You have to make this tragedy up to me before I end up cutting off all my hair and burning his condo down.”

Loraine giggled. “I'm sorry, girl. Well, now I know you're free to come jogging with me after work.” Since Loraine divorced her husband of two years after finding out he was screwin' his boss, she's been on this mission to get back in shape so she could find her next Mr. Right. If she asked me, she was really tryna shed the pounds and strut her new figure in her ex's face. “Exercising will help clear your mind, too.”

I wanted a better solution to my problems than jogging, but there wasn't much I could do. I'd either spend the night gaining five extra pounds burying my face in liquor and ice cream, or I'd burn the depression off jogging five extra miles around the block. I breathed deeply and agreed. “Fine, girl. I might as well. I gotta look good when the next cheating husband comes knocking on my door.”

Loraine chuckled. “Whatever. I'll see you after work. Try not to break up any more happy homes today.”

“Home must've not been too happy if he's screwin' me.”

I
t had been a month, and I hadn't heard a peep from Tariq. I didn't want to pressure Loraine into getting any information out of him, but I would be lying if I wasn't itching to find out what was up. I deserved some sort of explanation.
Right?
I understood that I didn't share his last name or bear his child, but I did let him lie up in me every other night while I gave him the leeway to make me believe we'd actually share a future. I deserved something.

As I sat on my couch watching
Girlfriends
reruns, the quick tap at the door incited hopefulness. I hoped it was Tariq with divorce papers in his hand. I even hoped it was Tariq, on bended knee, telling me how bad he screwed up and wanted to spend the next thirty minutes groveling for making me climb down a fire escape. So, when my hopeful self opened the door to find an overly excited Alonzo greeting me on the other side, I hoped that I hadn't opened the door.

“Hey, Erin. What have you been up to?”

“Watching TV.”

He paused and peeked into my apartment. “Want some company?”

“It's ten o'clock at night, Alonzo.”

“Do you have a curfew?” He smirked.

“Alonzo, what made you knock on my door this late hoping for an invite into my apartment?”

“I'm not tryna get into your bed or anything. I noticed how depressed you've been lookin' lately and felt like I should offer my company.”

When I first moved in, Alonzo was the first person I met. He was kind, generous, and always willing to drop what he was doing to come to my rescue. Whether it was a leaky pipe or a broken AC unit that maintenance neglected to tend to, Alonzo was there. I wasn't born yesterday. He wanted more than to be my friendly neighbor, but that's all I cared for him to be. Unfortunately, he was a relentless little bugger. “I appreciate that, Alonzo, but I'm tired and ready for bed.”

“Well, I'm not gonna push my luck. I wanted you to know that you're not completely alone.”

I cringed at Alonzo's halfway offensive reference to my absent social life. I was a lil' pissed that he noticed how frequent and infrequent my doorbell rang, but I
was
getting older. I didn't have the luxury of partying up 'til the break of dawn when I had a nine-to-five. I didn't have to make excuses for myself, but Alonzo's insinuation made me uneasy. “I never thought I was completely alone, Alonzo.” I faked a toothless smile and pushed my door forward.

Before I slammed my door shut without a goodbye, Alonzo stretched out his neck and yelled out, “Have a good night,” before my door slammed shut in his face.