Nobody's Girl (3 page)

“I love you.” Mills kissed the top of her head. “And if you'll follow me, I have something to show you outside.” He led her and the rest of the crowd outside.

Farrah was floored when she found a brand new, fully loaded, chrome Mercedes-Benz G63 AMG SUV.

“You didn't? This is not mine, is it?” She looked up into Mills's eyes for confirmation.

“It ain't mine,” he laughed.

“OMG, this is too much.” Farrah walked over to the car in awe. “It's beautiful.” She slowly glided her fingertips across the hood.

“You like it?” Mills asked.

“I love it.” Farrah ran over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You didn't have to do this.”

“I told you I had a surprise for you.”

“I thought you were just playing,” Farrah giggled.

“What I tell you about thinkin'?” Mills leaned down and kissed her lips.

As he tenderly kissed her lips, Mills's hands roamed Farrah's back and ass.

“You tryin' to get some tonight?” She smiled.

“Why you ask me that?”

“'Cause if you keep on touching me like that you gon' fuck around and find the road map to heaven.” Farrah broke away from the kiss, barely able to breathe.

“That's the point.” Mills shot her devilish grin.

“You are something else. You know that? You are something else.” Farrah imitated the comedian Kevin Hart.

“Shut up,” Mills laughed.

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“I got a surprise for you too.” Farrah stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear. “I think I'm pregnant.”

 

 

Dizzy from worry, Mills paced back and forth across the wooden floor. In three minutes his life could potentially get worse. If the pregnancy test Farrah had just taken came back positive, Mills would have to pack his things and move to another state, maybe even another continent. How would he tell his soon-to-be-wife? “Yay we're having a baby—and, oh by the way, my ex-girlfriend Jade, whom you hate, might have a baby by me too.”

Mills knew it was wrong on so many levels, but as they waited he silently prayed to God that Farrah wasn't pregnant. And yes, he knew that Farrah wanted a second try at getting pregnant, since she had hastily aborted their first child. Mills, however, didn't have the heart to tell her that for him it wasn't a good time.

“What time is it?” He anxiously wrung his hands together.

Farrah examined her watch.

“One a.m,” Farrah replied.

“Damn, it's only been a minute.” Mills said, annoyed.

“Calm down. You're making me nervous.” Farrah unconsciously tapped her foot against the floor.

She didn't know who was more nervous: her or Mills? In two minutes her whole, entire world had the potential of getting ten times greater. Her fairy tale would be complete. If she was pregnant, she'd have it better than Carrie Bradshaw. All Carrie had was the man of her dreams and a successful career. Farrah would have the complete picture: the man, career, and the baby. Life couldn't get any better.

As another minute slowly went by, Farrah persisted in tapping her foot and praying.
Lord, please let me be pregnant. Please let me be pregnant,
she repeated over and over in her mind.

“It's time,” Mills announced.

Farrah stared at him and took a deep breath. Her stomach was in knots as she gradually got up and entered the bathroom. There, on the countertop of the sink was the little white stick that held the key to her fate. Farrah took another deep breath, closed her eyes, and picked up the pregnancy test.

“What does it say?” Mills asked, nearly about to faint.

Farrah slowly cracked one eye open and gazed at the screen. There, staring back at her—sealing her fate—were two negative lines. Farrah opened her other eye and sighed.

“It's negative.” She dropped her hand down to her side.

“You sure?” Mills lifted her hand to take a look for himself.

Sure enough, the results were negative. Mills was overcome with glee, but he didn't let it show on the outside.

“Damn, I'm sorry, baby.” He hugged her from behind and kissed the back of her neck. “Maybe next time. You gon' be a'ight?”

“Yeah,” Farrah tried to convince herself. “I'ma just get ready for bed and take a bath.”

“A'ight, let me know if you need anything. I'ma go turn on this game real quick.” Mills headed into the other room.

Farrah quietly closed the door and turned on the shower. Steam from the hot water immediately filled the room. Farrah rubbed the mist from the steam off the mirror and gazed deep into her own eyes. It wasn't the end of the world that she wasn't pregnant. She'd gotten pregnant once, so she knew that it wasn't impossible for her to get pregnant again. It just hurt that it wasn't happening at that very second and time.

The other real issue was that ever since the abortion she'd secretly regretted her decision. She regretted it so much it ate her up inside. If she wouldn't have acted out of emotion she would've had a beautiful baby boy or girl. But she had and now every time she came in contact with a baby a gut-wrenching sting of pain shot through her chest. Choking back the tears that drowned her throat, Farrah let the pregnancy test slip from her fingertips and into the trash.

–Trey Songz, “Me 4 U Infidelity 2”

 

For days Farrah had been running herself so ragged between work and the last-minute wedding details that she didn't know her left from her right. Everyday had become a whirlwind of pure insanity, but Farrah wouldn't have it any other way. The best days of her life were ahead. Soon she would be standing at the altar before God, her family, and friends, pledging her undying devotion to the man she'd prayed her whole life for.

This was the perfect part of life that songs were written about and movies were made of. All of her dreams were in the palm of her hand. The only thing that would make it better was the little bambino she and Mills had been trying for. But they had all the time in the world for that. As long as they had each other, she was at ease. Bogged down with client portfolios, her wedding book, mail, grocery bags, purse, cell phone, and five-inch heels, Farrah teetered into her and Mills's loft.

“Shit!” she huffed while trying to hold her phone up to her ear.

“Are you all right?” London asked from the other end of the line.

“Yeah, I was just trying not to drop anything.” Farrah placed everything down on the kitchen countertop. “Whew, I'm tired.” She breathed heavily.

“You sound like it, fat girl,” London teased.

“Excuse you. I just weighed in this morning at the gym and I lost three pounds.”

“What, from your fat-ass head?” London joked.

“Ha-ha-ha, funny, bitch. I swear, you's the biggest hater. You just better be able to fit into your dress when we go to the final fitting this weekend.”

“Honey, please, I got this,” London popped her lips.

“Says the person who had hot wings, salad with extra dressing on the side, mozzarella sticks, and a slice of cheesecake for lunch today.” Farrah laughed while going through the mail, which mainly consisted of grocery and furniture-store ads.

“Damn, today Shop 'n Save was taking ten dollars off every fifty-dollar purchase. I should've took my ass there instead of going to high-ass Whole Foods.”

“I told yo' bougie ass to stop shoppin' there. Whole Foods is a luxury, not a necessity. You better start going to ALDI, Pete's, and Save-A-Lot. Shit, I know a chick right now that'll sell you a book of stamps for a cigarette.”

“You're an idiot.” Farrah continued to rummage through the mail and came across an envelope from the Missouri Department of Family Services addressed to Mills.

Farrah knew she had no business opening up his private mail, but a letter from DFS only spelled trouble. As she broke the seal on the envelope she could vaguely hear London on the other end of the phone talking away, but every word out of her mouth was inaudible. Farrah's heart was beating so loud she couldn't hear a thing. She hadn't even gotten the letter out of the envelope and she was already overcome with extreme anxiety and sweat. Once the letter was in her hand and the words were in front of her eyes, Farrah felt as if she was about to die.

“Farrah,” London called out to her.

“Huh,” Farrah answered breathlessly.

“What are you over there doing?”

“Umm.” She tried to gather her thoughts. “Nothing . . . look, let me call you back.” She hung up without waiting for a response.

Feeling weak, she slowly took a seat at the dining room table. The letter felt like fire on her fingertips, but she had to reread it for confirmation. Sure enough, her eyes weren't deceiving her. DFS was summoning Mills to take a paternity test to prove that he was the father of Jade's daughter, Jaysin Cori Mills. Just seeing the name
Jaysin Cori Mills
was like a pitchfork being staked into her eyes.

Farrah didn't even know that Jade was pregnant, let alone had a child. Reading further, she realized that the baby was now four months old. In pure shock and disbelief, Farrah let the paper fall onto the table and silently began to cry. She didn't know what to think or how to feel, she was so stunned. Then it all began to sink in. Mills had cheated on her. In order for Jade to think that Mills was the father of her child, they had to have slept together.

And Jade must've been confident that he was the father, because she'd named the baby after him and given it his last name. “This muthafucker cheated on me,” Farrah finally uttered out loud. “He fuckin' cheated on me
.”
To hear the words being spoken from her lips crushed Farrah's soul. In two weeks she was set to marry a man it turns out she barely knew.

“What am I gonna do?” she asked herself.

Farrah's mind told her to pack up her shit and go, but running wouldn't solve a thing. She still had questions that needed to be answered. Plus, she had to stick around just so she could see the look on Mills's face when she confronted him with the news. His expression would confirm whether he knew about the baby or not. Then it dawned on Farrah that she didn't have to wait to see the look on his face. His behavior over the last few months said it all.

Farrah would bet money that he knew about the baby and to prove her suspicions were right, she went fishing for evidence. She ransacked his drawers, shoe boxes, clothes—anything she could, find but found nothing. With their bedroom in disarray, Farrah placed her hands on her hips and pondered where she should search for evidence next.

“Bingo!” She snapped her fingers and ran over to his laptop.

Seconds later she was logged in and going through his files, but nothing incriminating popped up. Stumped, she bit her bottom lip, then decided to check his bank account. Scrolling through his debits, she saw that just a month prior he'd written a check to Jade Thomas in the amount of 1,000 dollars. Farrah's heart sank all the way to her toes. As she continued to go through his debits, she learned that Mills had written Jade a check every month for the last year.

The first check dated back to a week after they'd gotten engaged. Numb, Farrah printed off his account history and returned to the kitchen.
I am so fuckin' stupid
, she thought, shaking her head. Before Farrah knew it, hours had gone by and she hadn't moved an inch, except to pour herself several glasses of wine. For hours she'd sat still, like a corpse, replaying the last year in her head. Everything about it had been a lie.

Every intimate moment she and Mills shared had been cursed. Every time he'd confessed his undying love for her, was only him overcompensating for his betrayal. Every time they held in-depth conversations about their future was just a dream being sold to her on his behalf. She could never trust him again. He'd made her look like the ultimate fool once more.

All she could think was from that moment on how she would proceed. She couldn't even stop crying for a second, so how could she function in the world? With each sip of wine tears scorched her cheeks. Death was the only option to cure her pain. It was the only thing that would cease it.

Maybe if he came in and found me dead, he'd see just how much he'd hurt me
, she thought, but killing herself wouldn't help any. The only thing that would happen is she'd be dead and Mills would eventually move on and probably end up with Jade, no less. Blind with rage, Farrah thought back to the first time she suspected Mills of cheating. She remembered the night like it was yesterday.

 

 

She and Mills lay snuggled up in bed, wrapped in each other's arms, watching
Unsung Millie Jackson
when a text message came through on Mills's phone. He swiftly turned over and grabbed his phone. Farrah glanced at the clock. It was 12:30 in the morning. She didn't say anything, but she wondered who would be texting Mills that late at night. The insecure girl in her wanted to ask, but the woman in her told her to chill and relax. She and Mills were straight. He'd done everything in his power to make her feel secure about their relationship—and it worked.

Farrah was at peace and comfortable with him, but for some strange reason, something didn't feel right about his phone going off so late at night. For the first time in a while, Farrah felt a glimpse of uncertainty. She'd tried her damndest to ignore it, but the longer she stared at the television screen, the more she became shaken. Her woman's intuition wouldn't let it go. Finally giving into temptation, Farrah glanced over her shoulder and asked, “Who is that?”

Mills finished replying to the message and turned off his phone.

“My agent. We gotta meet up with the contractor for the skate park tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Farrah focused her attention back on the television.

As Mills retook her into his arms, Farrah's heartbeat began to accelerate. She'd been here before. This was the moment where things in a relationship began to go down hill. Mills had just lied to her and although she didn't know why, she prayed it wasn't because of another female.

But the nervous tingling in her stomach told her it was. Wanting desperately to give him the benefit of the doubt, Farrah kept quiet and made the mature decision to trust her man until he gave reason to otherwise.

Thinking back to that night, Farrah wondered if that's when Mills's web of lies had all started. She quickly snapped back to reality when she heard the sound of the front door opening. Mills was home. The moment she'd anticipated and dreaded all afternoon was here.

“Bay!” Mills yelled from the living room.

Farrah didn't answer, though. Her lips were glued shut by the unbearable pain in her chest.

“Bay!” Mills entered the dining room to find her sitting in the dark. “You ain't hear me? And why you in here sitting in the dark?” He flicked on the light.

Farrah ignored him and quietly took a sip of wine.

“What's wrong wit' you?” Mills asked, becoming concerned.

Farrah's bloodshot eyes glared at him with a look of pure disgust.

“Babe, what's wrong?” He reached over and tried to touch her, only for Farrah to swat his hand away.

“What the fuck you hittin' me for?” Mills grimaced, rubbing his hand.

Once again, Farrah wouldn't respond.

“Look, I ain't got time for a bunch of games. I been at work all day,” Mills barked, becoming upset. “My back hurt. I'm hot and sweaty. I ain't got time for a bunch of nonsense. Either you gon' tell me what's wrong or you ain't.”

Instead of replying, Farrah gave him a look that said,
Nigga, please
.

“A'ight, I see you on some 'ole other shit. A'ight, Farrah. Whatever's wrong wit' you I hope you feel better.” Mills turned to leave the room when Farrah threw the letter from DFS and his bank statements in his face.

Startled by her reaction, Mills flinched and blocked his face from being hit.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he yelled.

“You!” Farrah finally snapped. “You're my fuckin' problem!”

“What?” Mills screwed up his face, confused.

Figuring her anger stemmed from the info on the papers, Mills bent down and picked them up.

“What the fuck you going through my bank account for?” He screwed up his face.

Farrah swallowed hard.

“I know we gettin' married soon, but you ain't got no business going through my stuff. That shit ain't cool, man. I don't go through yo' shit, so don't go through mine.” Mills parted his lips to continue his rant, but then found the letter from DFS.

Upon sight the air in his lungs instantly ceased. Mills felt like at any second he was sure to pass out. His mouth was suddenly as dry as the Sahara Desert and the palm of his hands were so clammy they felt like jelly.

“Baby, let me explain. It ain't what you think—”

“Really? It ain't what I think?” Farrah cocked her head to the side and squinted her eyes. “Then what is it, then?”

“It ain't mine. I mean—I don't know if it is.”

“Wow,” Farrah sneered, folding her arms across her chest.

“I wanted to tell you. I tried to tell you—”

“When?” Farrah cut him off again. “Before or after you proposed to me?”

Mills felt completely defeated. He felt as if he was in a lose-lose situation with Farrah's line of questioning. He knew he had to choose his word carefully.

“
When
doesn't matter. All that matters is that I tried, and I swear on everything I love I tried to tell you, real talk. I just didn't know how. I just can't afford to lose you. If I did, I would lose it. You're my everything, babe.” He tried to take her hand, but before he could Farrah snatched it away.

“What you won't do is touch me.” She held her index finger up and shot him a look that could kill.

“I understand you're upset, but you ain't gotta be rude. I mean, it's not my fault you upset. If you hadn't have been going through my shit you wouldn't be crying right now. You ain't have no right opening my mail, so don't be mad at me. Be mad at yo'self.”

Dumbfounded by his choice of words, Farrah's mouth hit the floor.
Is this muthafucka actually trying to blame this on m
e? she thought. Actions spoke louder than words, but everything about Mills was screaming he didn't care about her or her feelings.

“Here I was thinkin' we was past all of the bullshit,” Mills persisted with his tirade. “But it's obvious you still don't trust me, so my question is: Why the fuck you marrying me then?”

Mills had never raised a hand to her, but Farrah could've sworn he'd reared his fist back to uppercut her like the bus driver from Cleveland. Having heard enough, she pushed her chair back and hopped out of her seat.