The Side Effects of You (12 page)

“How is that possible?”

“I don't know, but I don't. I'd go to any doctor, your choice, just to prove to you I'm not lying.”

I wanted to say, “Cool,” but just then I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Sam, table six is asking for a manager,” Trina, one of my waitresses said.

“Excuse me.” I hurried over to handle my customers.

It turned out one of the diners at the table had received the wrong dish but didn't have time to reorder. After I apologized for my waitress's mistake and said I'd comp the dish that was prepared and served by mistake, I turned to head back over to Charles.

I was stopped in my tracks by Ethan's voice.

“Sam,” he called out.

I turned to greet him. “Ethan, hey,” I said, trying to pretend I wasn't disappointed to see him. I had some unfinished business with Charles, and Ethan showing up was not good.

“Hey, baby,” he said and kissed me. “I've missed you, babe. Can you cut out of here?”

“Ethan, I wish I could, but I can't. As you can see, we are busy tonight.”

“I see. I'll just have a seat at the bar and get me something to eat and wait until you're done.” He smiled.

I wanted to say no, ask him to leave, and tell him I'd call him later, but I smiled instead. “Okay, baby. Have a seat. I'll be over in a few moments.”

I went over to Charles.

“Your man?” he asked as soon as I approached.

“Yes, something like that.”

“Really? Are you guys serious?”

“Why?”

“Does he know?”

“No, and we aren't serious enough. Okay, Charles? I haven't told him.”

“So you are not sleeping with him?”

“Not that it's any of your damn business, but no.”

He smiled. “You don't have to tell him, Sam. Knowing you like I do, you've been celibate since our divorce. I just know it.”

He was right, but I didn't confirm his statement.

“I want a chance to work it out,” he went on. “I know this virus is an unfortunate thing for you, but I love you, and there are preventive ways to be safe. I'm hoping you'll give me another chance. I never stepped out on you.”

For the first time, I did believe him. “Just go, Charles. We can talk soon, but for now, it's best that you go.”

“Fair enough. Is your number the same?”

“Yes,” I told him.

“I'll call you.” He stood and kissed my cheek. I turned to look and see if Ethan was watching, but he was at the bar, with his back to us.

“Good night, Charles.”

“Good night, Sam.”

He made his exit, and I went over to Ethan.

“Hey, you. Why have you been avoiding me?” he said.

“I have not,” I lied.

“Yes you have. I mean, the past couple of nights, you have turned me down. You know I'm trying to be close to you.”

“I know, but I've been closing and been beat, babe.” I gave him a weak smile.

“Well, I don't care how late you are done tonight. I refuse to take no for an answer.” He pulled me closer and whispered in my ear, “I want to do something to make you feel good.”

“Well, it may be late,” I said, hoping he'd be too tired to fulfill that promise.

“It doesn't matter. I don't have an early day tomorrow, so I'm all yours. Now, please let me get that stuffed chicken and potatoes, baby. Hook it up with the mushrooms.”

I wondered why he'd just ordered the same meal my ex had. They were both hooked on my stuffed chicken.

“Come and sit,” Quentin insisted. I had been pacing the floor of Quentin's living room and babbling on and on about my situation with Jeremiah. I had no idea what to do, and I didn't know what my next move was going to be.

“I can't sit, Q,” I cried.

He got up and came over to me. “Come here. Come here.” He held me. “It's going to be okay, Drea. First things first. Get a lawyer. You don't have to
out
him, just leave him. It doesn't have to be messy.”

He was right. All I had to do was leave him. I didn't have to have a reason, nor did I have to reveal he was gay.

“I hope it's that easy. I don't see Jeremiah just letting me walk out the door. He wants to keep up this image.”

“Fuck that. You have the power, babe. You know his secret. He doesn't have shit on you.”

“You're right. You're right.” I smiled at him, feeling a little better now, not as nervous as I was before.

“It's going to be fine.”

I let out a sigh. “I guess.”

He cupped my chin and then kissed me. Every nerve and sense in my body became activated. I hadn't been touched in over two years, and it didn't take much to get me wet. My nipples instantly hardened, and I wasn't going to stop him from taking me to Pleasureville.

“Quentin, I shouldn't,” I said, showing counterfeit resistance. I wasn't going to stop him. I wasn't going to leave before I had an orgasm.

“I want to make you feel good, baby. Let me make you feel good, Andrea.”

“Okay,” I agreed, and then my top came off. My jeans were next, and we were both naked within a matter of minutes.

“Let me taste you again, baby,” he said.

I nodded and followed him up the steps to his master bedroom. He pulled back the fancy bedspread and helped me onto the bed. I relaxed, and he climbed on top of me and kissed me down to my nipples.

He still knew how to kiss, and his nipple-pleasing skills had improved. My body was screaming, and as soon as I felt his tongue on my clit, I moaned louder than I'd ever moaned in my life. Knowing he was now an oral master, I trembled in anticipation. I hadn't come in a very long time, and when I did, it was so hard that it hurt.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah,” I panted. “No more please.”

“Baby, I haven't broke you in yet.”

“Q, you have no idea.” I had climaxed in less than two minutes. “Let me,” I said between short breaths.

He brought his massive rod to my mouth. Just like swimming or riding a bike, you never forgot how to suck dick. His skin smelled so fresh, and the heat from his throbbing pole enticed me. I sucked his dick as if it was the last opportunity I'd get to please him.

“Baby, ooh, baby, ooh. That's so good, baby,” he breathed. “You are going to make me squirt, baby. It feels so damn good.”

“Ump, ump.” I sucked, making slurping sounds as I enjoyed him. I was getting wetter the more I sucked.

He reached down and touched my center, played with my opening. “Aw, baby, you are so wet. Can I feel you?”

“Yes,” I said between slurps.

He pulled back and stood. I watched him get a condom and roll it on, and at that moment my guilt tried to kick in. But as far as I was concerned, my marriage was over. Correction, my marriage was dead.

Quentin positioned himself over me, and I took a deep breath, waiting for him to enter my body. I was anxious to feel him inside of me again. I thought back to when we'd been in love and when making love to Quentin had been the only thing I wanted to do. Kissing him now was like being that young, beautiful, slim woman I used to be. I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I turned my head, and my eyes welled up with tears. I felt the tip of his penis near my opening. He was about to slide in, but he stopped.

“Andrea, what's wrong, baby?”

“I . . . I . . . I . . . Am I still beautiful to you? I've changed, Q, and I know I'm not sexy anymore. I just let myself go. After Jeremiah stopped touching me, I just let myself go.”

“Baby, stop. You are so beautiful. I love the way you look.” I felt him slide inside of me.

“Owww.” It felt like it had ripped me open. As he pushed in and out of me, I frowned in pain, wondering why it hurt so badly. “Slow, baby, please. That hurts.”

He pulled out, then took his time and slid back in gently. After some getting used to, his dick felt like magic.

He looked at me the entire time he pleased me, not taking his eyes off of me.

“You're beautiful, b-baby. Your beauti-ti,” he stuttered. “Baby, it's g-good. I'm coming.”

He came down on me and buried his face in my neck. After he released, he pushed his tongue back into my mouth. He kissed me deeply, and I felt his pelvis rolling around in between my legs. He was limp, but he moved as if he was trying to get it back up. After a couple of moments, he got up and went into the bathroom.

I smiled to myself and waited for him to rejoin me. He crawled back in bed with me a few minutes later and wrapped his body around mine. He felt good, and I wanted to stay there forever. I missed having someone to hold me. I missed having a man tell me I was beautiful, and I definitely missed having dick deep inside my canal.

He nudged me. “Maybe it's because it's been a while for you, babe, but you're bleeding.”

I jerked my head up. “What?”

“There was blood on the condom.”

“Well, it's been over two years, Q.”

“Are you okay? Because I want more.”

“Do you?” I smiled.

“Yes. You felt even better than the last time I remember having you. Tighter and wetter than I remembered.”

“Well, I did have two C-sections. Canal's too small, according to the doctor, so nothing has changed down there.”

“Well, that soft tunnel of yours is even better than I remember, and I want to be with you, Andrea. I want you to be with me. I'm sorry for leaving you the way I did. You didn't do anything to deserve that, and I want another chance. Please, can you give me a chance to be right with you?”

“Quentin, my life is so messed up right now. I don't want to bring drama into your life. Jeremiah and I have a lot of issues, and I can't go making plans or committing to a new relationship until I've resolved the one I'm in.”

“I know, Andrea. I know this won't happen overnight, but I'm here. I will give you your space to handle your business, but I just want you to know I want to be the man in your life. I've waited this long to be next to you, and I'd gladly wait for you as long as you need me to. Just don't shut me out or stop allowing me to see you.”

I smiled, because I wanted that too. I had never gotten over Quentin, and if I started over, I'd rather start over with him. After all, he was the one. “I want you too. Just please be patient with me and let me take care of this mess of a marriage with Jeremiah.”

“I'm patient, Andrea, and I will be here for whatever you need. I love you.”

“Thank you,” I said and rested my head on his chest. I wanted to say, “I love you too,” but I knew not to.

He kissed my hand and then pushed it down to his erection. He was ready, and even though I hadn't been on a rodeo ride in over two years, I got on top. Not even five minutes into it, I cramped up and my thighs tightened.

“Baby, I'm out of practice,” I confessed. “This is killing me. I can't.” The pain was unbearable.

“It's okay, baby. I got you,” he said.

We changed positions, and I ended up on my stomach. Quentin made my body moan, and I was sore when we were finally done. We showered, then went to dinner,

By the time I made it home, Jeremiah was there, cooking pasta for the kids.

“Hey,” he said with a bright smile. “How are you, baby? Where have you been?”

Shocked at his upbeat demeanor and his effort to be nice, I lied, “I had a couple of house calls. You know Drew Sidora is one of my clients. She is on the
Motown Review
, so I did her and a couple of young ladies from her cast.”

“That's great.” He smiled. “Dinner is ready. Come and join me and the kids.”

I wasn't hungry, but I didn't want any trouble. “Just let me run up and change.”

“You do that,” he said behind his fake smile.

I knew he was being a sarcastic ass, but I went on up. I changed and examined myself in the mirror in my bathroom, noticing how big I was. A solid twenty, a twenty-two in some clothes. But Quentin's voice telling me how beautiful I was kept ringing in my ears. “I am beautiful,” I told myself. I threw on some loungewear and headed back down the stairs.

I sat down at the kitchen table. During dinner my kids laughed, joked, and enjoyed their father. He hadn't been at the table with us in a while, so they welcomed him, while I gave him evil looks.

He smiled at me, as if to say, “Try me, bitch,” but I just let it go and played with my pasta with my fork. The kids finished and volunteered to take up our plates, leaving me and my estranged husband seated there. When they finished retrieving the plates, the kids headed up to bathe and get things ready for school the next day. Pastor Young and I sat in silence.

“You look different. Relaxed,” he finally said to me.

“I'm coming to terms with this situation,” I returned.

“What situation? There is no situation. We are fine. Our marriage is fine, and all anyone needs to know is that Pastor Young and his first lady are still madly in love and living out God's will.”

“How can you still pretend to be this soldier for the Lord, when you are just as vile as a man of the world?”

“I'm a man of God, Ann, and whatever filthy thoughts or evil ideas you have about me, pray about it, because you are wrong.” He got up and went to the fridge. He grabbed my pinot and poured me a glass. That was a first. He handed it to me. “Here you go, sweetheart,” he said tenderly and then sat back down.

I was confused. I was a second away from literally scratching my head when he said, “Drink up, love, and let this wine be the relief to the ill things that you have imagined about your husband. Whoever you got your information from is wrong. I want you to tell me right now, who told you this foolish thing?”

“Why does it matter, Jeremiah? I know it's true,” I said and sipped.

“It's not true!” he yelled. He stood and took a calming breath. “Who told you that I was involved with him?” he asked again.

I sat in silence. I sipped my wine, and as soon as I put my glass on the table, he grabbed my neck again. He put so much pressure on my airway, I couldn't breathe. I struggled to pull away from his grip, but he tightened his hold. My eyes teared up, and I tried to beg him to let me go, but no sound came out of my mouth.

“Tell me, Ann. Who told you?” he asked through clenched teeth.

This was the second time he'd tried to choke me. He let go only because one of the kids came running down the steps. I coughed uncontrollably, trying to catch my breath.

“Mommy, are you okay?” my baby girl, Lena, asked.

“She's fine, baby. While drinking that wine, she swallowed it down the wrong pipe,” Jeremiah lied, patting my back, as if he was trying to help me.

I had tears rolling down my cheeks, and I continued to cough. Finally, my coughing subsided, and my baby girl went back up to her room.

“You gon' tell me?” he asked.

Scared he would kill me, I said, “Franklin's wife. She knows.” In tears, I continued. “She saw you two in his home office,” I confessed. I didn't tell him that she had recorded them, and I certainly didn't tell him that she had sent me a copy of the video.

“Now, was that so hard?” He laughed. “She is a liar, Ann, and I'll see to it that Franklin puts his wife in her place. Good night,” he said.

He stood and headed to his bedroom, and I sat there and sobbed. This putting his hands around my neck had to stop. I wasn't going to take it anymore. I was tempted to call Quentin, but after our day, I knew he would end up in jail, because he'd kill Jeremiah.

I got up, grabbed the wine bottle, and took it and my glass upstairs. I put them on my night-stand and went to say good night to my kids. Afterward, I locked my bedroom door and went into the bathroom. My neck had red marks on it from Jeremiah choking me, and I knew I'd have to wear a scarf the next day to keep clients from seeing traces of my crazy-ass husband's attempts to choke the truth out of me. I turned out the bathroom light, got into bed, and texted Quentin.