Authors: Tracy Brown
“Camille, Frankie’s not Prince Charming, you know. You spend so much time bragging about how lucky you are to have him, but I hope you know that the guy’s not a saint.” Misa thought back to the times she’d seen Frankie with Gillian. Camille had better wake up and realize that her husband wasn’t all that she made him out to be.
“I never said he was, Misa. But he treats me like a queen and that’s what’s important.”
“You really believe that? Seriously, Camille, aside from the material things he gives you and the money he hands you, how does he treat you like a queen? He’s not even here half the time, so don’t fool yourself.” Misa stared at her sister in amazement.
Camille shook her head. “Don’t be jealous, Misa.”
Misa laughed loudly. “Whatever. If you take the blinders off and take a good clear look at your marriage, you’ll see that you’re not nearly as fortunate as you think you are.”
Camille stood in silence and stared at her sister. She didn’t even know what to say. Jealousy seemed to have taken Misa over, and Camille was so disappointed in her.
Misa threw up her hands in frustration. “Wear the red dress and have a good time.” Misa got up, walked out, and headed home. She had had enough of her sister for one day.
Camille stood dumbfounded for several moments after Misa left, and thought about what she had said. She hadn’t meant to talk down to her. And more and more she was being reminded—by Toya and now Misa—that her life with Frankie may not be all that it was cracked up to be. She sat down and looked around the closet at all the shoes, bags, and designer duds and knew that she was lucky.
Camille then thought about the time Frankie spent away from her. She thought about Gillian and her constant presence. Camille reached for the phone and dialed her husband’s number, hoping for some reassurance. She wanted him to remind her that she really was lucky. The phone rang twice and went straight to voice mail. Camille hung up and dialed again. Frankie’s voice mail picked up again. She thought about something Dominique had mentioned once while
they’d talked over drinks—that men always have predictable voice mail codes. She chuckled at the thought and, on a whim, pressed the pound key. The voice mail system prompted her to enter Frankie’s password to check his messages. As a random guess, Camille entered “0310,” which was Frankie’s birthday. To her surprise, she had guessed correctly.
“You have three new messages. To hear your messages, press ‘one.’ ”
Camille hesitated. This was something she had never done before, and for a brief moment she reconsidered. She had never snooped on her husband before. She trusted Frankie. But with her curiosity piqued, she pressed “1” and listened.
“Yo, Frankie, this is Mikey. Let me know if you want in on the poker game this Sunday. Get at me.”
Camille smirked, happy that Frankie had been telling the truth about the card games at Mikey’s house. She pressed “9” to save the message and then pressed “1” to hear the next one.
“Hey, Frankie. It’s Gillian.” Camille’s jaw tensed and she turned the volume up on her phone as the message continued. “Remember the night when you kissed me at B. Smith’s? Well, I can’t stop thinking about that kiss.” She paused. “I don’t know why I’m bringing this up now. Maybe it’s because you brought that dull wife of yours to Thanksgiving at Daddy’s house, and I’m wondering if she realizes what she has with you. Anyway, I wish everything wasn’t so complicated . . . but I guess I just wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking about us lately. We’ll talk later.”
Camille’s heart paused and she held her breath. She pressed “1” again to repeat the message, praying all the while
that her ears were deceiving her. As she listened to the message again, there was no mistaking it. “
I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. . . . I wish everything wasn’t so complicated.
”
It felt like the whole world stopped spinning. She felt tears roll down her cheek before she even realized that she was crying. She managed to proceed to the next message, though her hands trembled as she did so. She recognized Gillian’s voice again.
“Frankie, it’s me. Call me back.”
Camille sat there with the telephone clenched tightly in her hand. She couldn’t move. All she could hear was Gillian’s voice confirming her worst fears. Frankie was cheating on her. She wondered how long this had been going on. Frankie had assured her that they were just friends, and she had believed him. Gillian had been in their home, had smiled in her face, and all the while she had been in love with her husband. Camille couldn’t believe it.
She hung up the phone and slumped down on the chaise, racked with sobs. Frankie was everything to her. She had invested so many years into their marriage, and had defended him when everyone suggested that his friendship with Gillian was deeper than she thought. Camille felt her heart shatter over and over as she replayed Gillian’s voice in her head. She thought back to the night of their barbecue when she had overheard Frankie tell Gillian that he loved her. She had wanted to believe that he meant it in a friendly way. But it was clearer than ever that what he’d said to Gillian that night wasn’t as meaningless as she had hoped.
The phone rang, and she fought to stop crying long enough to answer it. She steadied her voice and answered, “Hello.”
“Hey, baby. It’s me. You almost ready to go? I’ll be home
in about an hour.” Frankie’s sexy baritone resounded in her ears.
Camille couldn’t speak. She wanted to tell him that she knew the truth, but part of her was scared to death to do that. What if he really wanted to be with Gillian but just didn’t have the heart to tell her? If she told him that she knew about his affair, he might take that as a license to finally leave her. What if he walked away from all they’d built together? Camille wasn’t about to let another woman have the man she’d loved for so long.
“Camille? Are you there?”
She steadied her voice and said, “Yeah. I’ll be ready.”
“Cool. See you in a little while.” Frankie hung up, and Camille got to her feet. She walked over to her full-length mirror and looked at her reflection. Her hair was styled perfectly, but she observed that her body was getting a little fat. She shook her head, knowing that all the food and alcohol she’d been consuming over the past few months had caught up to her. Her nails were manicured perfectly. Her makeup was flawless. She worked hard to maintain a perfect appearance so that her husband would never need to stray. But he had done so anyway. Camille wondered what she was missing; what did Gillian have that she didn’t? She wiped the few tears that still trickled down her cheek and reached for the red dress that Misa had suggested she wear. She spritzed herself with perfume, put on her jewelry, and got dressed.
Frankie arrived and walked into their bedroom with a bouquet of red roses in his hand. He felt guilty for all the time he had been spending with Gillian, and he was well aware that his relationship with his best friend had taken a more serious tone lately. He felt powerless over his emotions
and torn between the wife who had been so faithful to him and the woman to whom his heart truly belonged.
Camille greeted him, looking flawless as usual, and gave him a kiss. She thanked him for the flowers and went to put them in water, thinking about something her mother had always told her: that if a man brought you red roses, you should give them back because he put no thought into that whatsoever. She pondered how ironic that was—that her husband would give her a thoughtless gift on the very night she discovered that he’d been kissing his so-called best friend.
Frankie came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He sniffed her neck and noticed that she was wearing his favorite perfume. He smiled. “Ready to have fun tonight?”
Camille forced a smile and turned to face her husband. She wondered how he could live a double life so easily. When he looked at her, it was as if she was the only woman in the world. Yet she knew the truth. As she faced Frankie, she thought about Gillian and became more determined than ever to hold on to her husband. She’d rather die than let that bitch have her man. “I love you, Frankie,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Octavia looked down at the home pregnancy test in her hand and cried. It was the third test she’d taken that week and each one gave the same result. Positive. She was pregnant and her mother was going to kill her when she found out.
Octavia had allowed Dashawn to have unprotected sex with her, after he urged her to trust him. He swore that she wouldn’t get pregnant, that he would pull out in time to prevent that. But now here she was, at home alone with her heart galloping in her chest.
What am I going to do?
she wondered.
Octavia had missed her period that month, and hoped that it was just a fluke. When she confided in her friends at school, they urged her to take a pregnancy test. Seeing the third positive result, she shook her head, wishing this nightmare would end somehow. She hadn’t told Dashawn yet. She wasn’t sure how he would react, and she was kind of afraid to tell him out of fear of being rejected. Each night as she ate dinner with her mother, she sat in silence as she thought about her situation. Lucky for her, Dominique was
preoccupied with mourning the death of her father and keeping in touch with Jamel, so that allowed Octavia’s stress to go unnoticed. At night when she crawled into bed, she’d cry herself to sleep and ask God to show her a way out. All she knew for sure was that she was in a world of trouble. Somehow, she had to come up with a plan.
The whole room
seemed to sway to “Always and Forever” as the anniversary party wound down at Conga. The lights were low, and everyone was tipsy from the open bar and full from the feast they’d enjoyed all evening long. This was one party that all in attendance would be talking about for a long time. Drinks flowed, flowers peppered the room, and food was everywhere—filet mignon, beef medallions, soul food, and every sweet confection a heart could desire. The deejay had been spinning a mix of old-school and new music, and Nobles and his wife were blissfully happy.
Camille sat nestled in the crook of Frankie’s arm as they watched the celebrating couple dance together, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes. Camille tried to recall whether Frankie still looked at her that way, but she came up empty. Looking across the room, she spotted Gillian standing with her brother, who looked like he’d rather be getting a root canal than be at this party tonight.
Camille noticed that Gillian’s boyfriend, Sadiq, was standing not very far from Gillian, and Camille stared at her nemesis hatefully. She was still boiling inside about the message she’d heard on Frankie’s cell phone, but she was doing her best to push it out of her mind. After all, he was a man, she thought. Men would do whatever their dicks told them to, and Frankie was no different. To Camille, Gillian
alone was the problem, and she had to find a way to get her out of their overcrowded marriage for good.
Frankie was looking at Gillian and Sadiq as well. He noticed that Gillian hadn’t smiled much all night. Unless someone was snapping a picture of the family, Gillian had been standing around looking like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world but there. She hadn’t danced at all, and Frankie couldn’t help wondering if Sadiq had done something to piss her off.
“You ready to go?” Camille asked, looking at her husband, who seemed not to be enjoying himself anymore. “Let’s get out of here.”
Frankie pried his eyes away from Gillian and looked at his wife. “Okay. Let me say good night to everybody.” They stood up and bid good night to the others at their table as the song came to an end. Offering congratulations first to Nobles and Mayra, they thanked their hosts for a wonderful evening.
Frankie put his hand on Nobles’s shoulder and smiled. “You look good tonight, old man. I’ll stop by tomorrow around lunchtime to bring you up to speed on some things.”
Nobles smiled and nodded. “No problem, Frankie. Thanks for coming.”
Next, Frankie bid Baron farewell, and he and Camille made their way toward the exit. Gillian was standing nearby.
She locked eyes with Frankie as he walked toward her. Camille noticed and gripped her husband’s hand tighter. Sadiq stood behind Gillian, talking to a man Camille didn’t recognize. As the distance between them diminished, Gillian felt her heartbeat speed up. If they had been alone, Frankie might have told her that his heart did the same.
“We’re going home now,” he said as he stood in front of
her. He thought she looked sexier than ever with her flowing hair falling in loose curls around her shoulders, and her long eyelashes fluttering over her beautiful brown eyes. “Guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Gillian forced a smile. “Have a good night,” she managed, looking Frankie in the eye. As she glanced at Camille, her smile was harder to maintain. “You look lovely,” she said.
“Thanks,” Camille said, smiling on the outside but spitting in the woman’s face in her imagination. Camille had squeezed into the dress she was wearing, and was depressed that her overeating had made it hard for her to fit into the size 12 garment. She had to admit that Gillian looked amazing in a sequined one-shoulder gown. Her diamond jewelry was elegant and understated. Camille was growing more insecure in her too-tight dress the longer they stood there, but unfortunately, Frankie seemed not to be in any rush to leave.
He stared at Gillian, wondering what had caused her long face. She had seemed so sad and so distant all night. “Are you all right?” he asked, completely forgetting that Camille was on his arm. All that mattered to him at that moment was whether Gillian was okay.
She looked at Camille, then back at Frankie. She was upset that he hadn’t mentioned the message she’d left on his voice mail. Gillian felt like a fool for having called Frankie and expressing what had been on her mind for days, and pissed that he hadn’t even acknowledged what she’d said. Just then, Sadiq appeared at her side. He smiled, greeting Frankie and Camille. He had heard Frankie’s question, too. “She’s mad at me,” he said, tilting his head in Gillian’s direction. “I got here late tonight, but at least I made it.” He smiled as he said this, displaying beautifully capped teeth
and adorable dimples. He was handsome and charming, and Camille could instantly understand why Gillian fell for him. She smiled at Sadiq, trying to lighten the mood.