The Ex-Wife (8 page)

Cam nodded. “OK, I get it.”

My mother chimed in. “They are only fifteen months apart and when kids are that close, it’s really easy for the younger one
to take on the role as the oldest.”

Aaliyah had always wanted to be someone’s mother, which is why she had taken on that role, not because she was more mature
than me. She was just bossier than I was. I rolled my eyes. By Cam’s smile, I could tell he got the message.

My dad said, “Seriously, I think this condo is ideal for my butterfly. She’s fluid.”

Cam squinted. Dad raised his eyebrow, insinuating that Cam was slow. Cam said, “No, I get it. She goes with the flow.”

“OK, I got a little concerned,” Daddy said, laughing. “I’ve always told her that she didn’t know where her career would take
her, especially because it all happened so fast. One day she’s a struggling doctoral student and the next she’s a bestselling
author, talk show host, and running her own practice. I advised her not to buy anything because she could get a call anytime
to, say, move to New York or LA.”

Cam said, “I hope not.”

That comment got everyone’s attention, except Dad. He continued, “And she’s always enjoyed traveling. Even as a kid. She’s
been all over the world.”

“Daddy, I have not been all over the world.”

“I’ll put it to you like this, she goes everywhere she wants to go.”

“I do not. There are many places I’d love to go that I’ve never been.”

Dad said, “Like where?”

“I’ve always wanted to cruise the Mediterranean.”

“See what I mean, son, she’s fluid. That’s why I was always unsure if she should buy anything, but I think this place is perfect
for her.”

“I’m glad you think so, Daddy.”

He nodded seriously. “I do.”

My mother stood up. “Ayana, did you get any trash bags?”

“Yeah, I did.”

I rummaged through the Target bags and pulled them out. “Here, Mom.”

While she began to straighten up the place, Aaliyah took her chance to quiz Cameron. “So have you been a Realtor long?”

“Yup, almost fifteen years.”

“That must be cool.”

“Yeah, it has its ups and downs.”

Aaliyah started cleaning the girls’ mess. Cam asked, “How old are your girls?”

“Three and four.”

“Yeah, that’s a fun age.”

Mom asked, “Do you have kids?”

“Yes, one son, he’s eight.”

My mother nodded. “OK.”

Shortly after, Aaliyah and my parents left, leaving Cam and me alone. Cam opened the manila envelope he had been carrying
when he entered and handed me some documents. Leaning his elbow on the ledge of my bar counter, he said, “Ayana, these are
the court documents. My divorce is final.”

I was at a loss for words. I wasn’t sure how I should respond. Divorce papers wouldn’t instantly change the personality of
his ex-wife.

He said, “I’m putting myself out there. Say something. Don’t just look at me like I’m crazy.”

“I’m sorry, Cam. I don’t know what you expect me to say.”

“Say that maybe you’d be willing to go out with me again.”

“And your ex-wife, how did she handle the decision?”

“My ex-wife is a very peculiar person. She doesn’t want to be with me and I don’t want to be with her. She treats people and
relationships like objects. It’s all about ownership with her. It has nothing to do with anything else.”

“I understand, but I’m not sure I can risk everything I’ve built by dating a man with an impulsive, manipulative ex-wife—someone
who will do anything to have her way.”

He obviously sensed my confusion and saw through the words exiting my mouth as he leaned in to kiss me. I didn’t resist. I
wished I had the strength to push him away but I was breathless in his embrace. When he let me go, I wasn’t sure what I wanted
to do. He said, “Ayana, I dig you.”

“I understand, but—”

“Don’t let one little obstacle stop this.”

His eyes were so sincere and I knew that I could make a mistake. I was conflicted. Should I take the risk? Should I ask him
to leave? He swept my hair behind my ear and chills ran through my body. I said, “OK, Cam.”

He lifted my chin and kissed me. “Thanks.”

“I don’t believe I just agreed to this.”

“Are you fluid or what?”

I laughed. “That’s what my dad said. I never told you that.”

“But you did tell me that no one knows you like your dad.”

“I did.”

He walked over to open the bottle of champagne, so I backed up. The cork popped and bubbles spilled out. He poured some into
my plastic cup and then some into his. We both sipped as he opened up the fruit arrangement. He pulled out a pineapple by
the stick and put it up to my lips. I took a bite and juice squirted out and down the corner of my mouth. I went to wipe it
off but Cam moved my hand and kissed it off. I turned my head in the direction of his mouth and kissed him, slowly. It felt
warm and sensual. He laid the pineapple down on the counter and wrapped his arm around me as we continued to kiss. My legs
were weak and if Cam hadn’t been holding me I would have fallen.

When the kiss ended, he looked into my eyes. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been ready to trust someone.”

“Why do you trust me?”

“Partially because of what Quentin has told me about you and more because of what you’ve shown me plus the conversations we’ve
had.”

“Quentin?”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “Quentin had this in the works long before we met.”

My neck snapped back. “Really?”

“Yeah. When I was going through it and feeling like I would never get into a serious relationship again, Quentin said, ‘Man,
when you get through with the bullshit, I want you to meet Ayana. She the one.’”

I had known Quentin respected me but I hadn’t known he’d strategically set me up. How had he known we’d click the way we had?
Then again, I believe the best relationships are when friends hook you up.

“What do
you
think?” I asked.

“I think Quentin was right. That’s why I’m standing here in your empty new home, begging you to give this a chance.”

I looked in his eyes and nodded. I was impressed with his determination. If a man wants to be with a woman, nothing can stop
him. He’ll do whatever is necessary to prove to her that he is sincere. I stood there, admiring his candor, and thought I’d
be a fool not to give things a try.

“And I owed it to you to be legit when I approached you this time. I didn’t expect us to hit it off like we did that night.
When shit went down the next day, I was kicking myself, because even though I knew I was really close to the divorce, it still
wasn’t final. Now that it is, if I have to be at your doorstep every day, then I will. That’s what it is, you feel me?”

Cam smiled and traced my face with his hand and leaned in for another kiss. I unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it out of his
pants. I rubbed his chest through his wife beater. He pulled my blouse out of my skirt and began to unbutton it before taking
it off and lifting my camisole. He unsnapped my bra and held my left breast like a bottle, stroking his tongue over my nipple,
while twirling his finger over the other. My vagina was throbbing so hard, I thought it would tumble out of my panties. He
lifted my skirt and yanked my stockings down. He lay his hand between my legs and stroked back and forth with his middle finger.
It tingled and my eyelids fluttered. I brushed my lips back and forth across his chest while I unfastened his pants. His penis
was hard and throbbing. Before his pants dropped, he pulled out his wallet and grabbed a condom. While he put the condom on,
I took off the remainder of my clothes.

He carried me to the steps leading up to the loft, because they were carpeted. He placed me about four steps up and stood
on the landing. He spread my legs far apart and licked my vagina quickly, then put himself inside me for a few strokes, then
he licked again and stroked again. He did the lick-plunge action a few times, sparking fireworks throughout my body. I screamed
his name and begged him to stay inside me. Finally he obliged. My body relaxed as we flowed together. Peace and ecstasy combined
to bring me pleasure. This time was much more passionate and enjoyable than the first, which says a lot, because the first
time was wonderful, but surrounded by doubt. This time I was sure that Cam was a good guy, so sure that I wanted to explore
his heart and his mind. I had no doubts that this would last longer than one night.

T
he day after Cam got what he wanted, he called me as if everything were going to go as planned. Caron meant the world to him
and if I could stop him from spending time with Caron, I imagined he would feel compelled to come back home. When I answered,
he said, “What’s up, Yasmin?”

“You don’t care. Cut the bullshit. What do you want?”

“I’m picking Caron up after school but I’m going to bring him to the shop because I have a showing.”

I laughed. “I already have someone to pick him up. Don’t bother.”

“Who is the someone?”

“Don’t worry. It’s not you.”

“Yasmin, don’t play with me.”

“Cam, I have to go.”

I hung up the phone and I knew he’d be wondering where Caron was but I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure. I wanted him
to be stressed and worried the same way I was about the divorce. I’m tired of being mistreated. It is time for Cameron to
get a taste of his own medicine.

Just as I expected, he showed up at Caron’s school only to discover Caron wasn’t there. He called me, yelling in my ear, “Where
the fuck is my son?”

“Inquiring minds want to know.”

“Yasmin, don’t fuck with me.”

His voice was filled with anger. Cameron’s coolness was blown, so I knew I’d gotten under his skin. It felt good that he was
hurting. I kept seeing the grin on his face as he walked out of the courtroom and I had no sympathy for him just as he had
no sympathy for me. I didn’t care if he or his family ever saw Caron again.

I hung up the phone and stared out the front window, waiting for him to come. Close to an hour passed and it became obvious
he wasn’t going to show up. I called my girlfriend and told her the coast was clear for her to bring Caron to the shop. Cameron
didn’t call later and he didn’t call the next day either. It was his weekend to keep Caron and when I didn’t hear from him,
I figured I’d give him a call.

The phone rang and rang and I was furious. Although I had no plans to go anywhere, I was pissed that he was acting like he
no longer cared for me or our son. My head started pounding and I felt betrayed. I hated Cameron for this. When I picked Caron
up later that evening, his first question was, “Why didn’t Daddy get me?”

“Daddy don’t care about us anymore.”

I thought Caron would ask more questions, but instead he hung his head low and water filled his eyes. I almost wanted to take
back what I’d said, but I didn’t. If his father didn’t plan on being a part of his life, it was best for him to know the truth
now.

Caron and I went to visit one of my girlfriends and her kids. When we pulled up, Caron said, “I hate coming here. My dad and
I always do something fun.”

“What would you like to do?”

“We go bowling or something.”

I felt bad because I hadn’t planned anything. I had hoped that Cam would fight a little harder to see his son. He obviously
had better plans. As I sat in front of my girlfriend’s house, I realized that all I was going in there to talk about was how
men are no damn good. I was already angry and I didn’t need any more ammunition to go knock down Cameron’s door.

That’s what he expected of me, but that’s not what I was going to do. I wanted him to realize that he wanted to be with me.
I was tired of chasing him. I told Caron to call him and leave a sweet message. Caron called and said, “Hey, Dad, I thought
we were chilling this weekend. Call me back.”

Seconds later my phone rang and it was Cameron. Well, he was skilled in ignoring me, but it was really hard for him to ignore
Caron. He had such a big heart for his son. Where was his compassion for me? I wanted to cry. When I picked up, I said, “Hi,
Cameron.”

“Hey, Yasmin. How are you?”

“I’m good. So I take it you’re not picking up Caron this weekend.”

“Well, if you knew how to communicate like you were older than a teenager, maybe we could have discussed what my plans were
for the weekend.”

Whenever he doubted my ability to communicate, that took me to the next level, where I wanted to slash tires, bust windows,
and do harm to him and anyone else who cared about him. I took ten deep breaths before responding.

“What are your plans?”

“We need to swap weekends. I want to get him next weekend instead of this weekend. I have a few meetings.”

“Where are you? It doesn’t sound like you’re at a meeting.”

“Yasmin, I’m not at a meeting right now, but I do have some things to do. I was trying to tell you this when you pulled that
stunt the other day.”

“What stunt?”

“Yasmin, I’m at a very crucial point in my life right now. I have a lot of things I’m working on and my schedule may switch
up some and I need to be able to communicate with you.”

“You don’t have to communicate with me. You need to make arrangements. If it’s your weekend, then you need to find a babysitter.”

I wasn’t going to sit around and adjust my schedule for his busy weekends. Prior to the divorce, he got Caron faithfully.
Now he thought he had a get-out-of-jail-free card. No, I wanted to make dating as much of a challenge for him as it was for
me.

He huffed. “OK, do you want me to come get him this evening? I will take him to my mom’s house.”

“What makes you think he wants to sit around with that old hag while you’re out frolicking with God only knows who?”

He said, “What do you want to do? You want me to get him, ’cause I will.”

“I want you to get him and spend some time with him.”

“That’s not going to happen tonight.”

“Why?” I shouted.

The nice approach wasn’t going in my favor and I was angry with him. I wanted to know where he was, whom he was with, and
what was more important than Caron. He said, “Yasmin, I have an important meeting tonight and tomorrow and I would prefer
to get him next weekend.”

“So some bitch means more to you than your son?”

“I’m not going to do this with you.”

“You have a court order to get your son every weekend. You are in violation.”

“Where are you? I’ll come get him now.”

“No, keep doing what you’re doing.”

I hung up the phone. He needed to think about the effect this was going to have on Caron. All of a sudden, after the divorce,
he wanted to switch up his weekends. I couldn’t wait to go back to court and tell them he didn’t deserve weekend visits. Cam
could afford a nanny if he wanted to. He obviously was chasing some trick around town.

I asked Caron, “Baby, do you still know Daddy’s garage code?”

He nodded. “Yes, Mommy.”

“OK, I have to get something out of his house. He said it’s OK for you to give it to me.”

I pulled out of my parking space and sped over to Cam’s house. I knew he wasn’t home but I needed to know what he was up to,
whom he was seeing, and when he was seeing her. In addition to his electronic calendar, Cam wrote everything down, and he
organized receipts every day. I could track his whereabouts just by those. It sounded as if it would be a while before he
came back.

I pulled into the short driveway in the back of his house and Caron gave me the code. I told him to stay in the car and of
course he had a million questions. I tried to open the door with the code that Caron had given me. The door wouldn’t open
and the lights on the keypad kept blinking as if they were saying, “
Nope. Try again, bitch!
”

I closed the keypad cover and banged frantically on the pad. It was my enemy at that moment, because it was the obstacle standing
between Cam and me. Caron opened his door and asked, “That didn’t work, Mommy?”

“Get back in the car, Caron.”

I walked up onto the deck and tried the glass door. It was locked, so I tried the window over the kitchen sink.
Bingo.
I pushed the window up and prayed that Caron had been right about the security alarm code; otherwise I’d have to run out
quickly. I climbed through the little window and felt like I broke my arm when I fell into the sink. I jumped up and ran downstairs
to turn off the alarm, but quickly realized it hadn’t been set. Cam had obviously left in a rush.

I went into his office looking for his receipt folder but I couldn’t find it anywhere. I didn’t find anything. I looked at
the calendar on his desk and he had written
DIVORCED
in big red letters with an exclamation point on our court date. Was it really that bad to be married to me?

Momentarily I felt nauseous and forgot why I had come. I rummaged through his desk drawers, then headed upstairs to see if
I could find any female residue. A bra, an earring, a bobby pin. I found nothing.

I went back into the office to get on his desktop computer. Although he carried a laptop, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to see
what he was doing on there. I touched the mouse so the screen would appear. Ayana Blue’s picture was on his desktop. I wanted
to throw up. Why did he have her head shot as the backdrop? They couldn’t have been seeing each other for longer than two
weeks. What a goddamn pussy. My hands trembled as I looked at his Internet browser. His Facebook account was up and I looked
at his in-box. I saw a message exchange with one of his friends and the subject was “Ayana.” Cam told the friend thanks for
the hookup, that Ayana was cool now that she knew the divorce was final, and that they were meeting for dinner. His friend,
Quentin, told him to seal the deal.

I felt like wrecking his house. I felt like crying hysterically. I felt like running them both over with my car. I felt like
someone had just shot straight through my heart.
Seal the deal?
What the fuck did that mean?

I left the house through the sliding glass door on the deck. I didn’t give a damn if it was unlocked. I didn’t care if someone
broke in and stole everything he owned. I just didn’t care anymore.

When I got in the car, I called Tayshawn. I was literally shaking and screaming at the top of my lungs. Caron looked at me,
confused, as I ranted on the phone.

“He’s out with her. They went to dinner! I can’t stand her. I wish she was dead.”

Tayshawn said, “Sweetie, even if she was dead, it don’t mean that you and Cam are going to get back together.”

“You never know, Tayshawn. You never know.”

My hands were trembling and tears were streaming down my face. I considered popping up on them at dinner. Tayshawn said, “Yasmin,
you need to take your anxiety medicine. Don’t you go popping up on those people! You will be in jail. Why don’t you come back
to the shop?”

Caron was the only reason I didn’t meet them for dinner. Instead I drove back to the shop as Tayshawn had suggested. He and
Casey still had several clients left. I noticed Casey was working with one of my new clients. I said, “Excuse me, you didn’t
like how I did your hair?”

Casey spoke for her. “No, she just dropped in and I told her I could do it since you left early.”

I felt some kind of way about that. Tayshawn cut his eyes at me because he knew I didn’t like it. The client said, “Yeah,
I was looking for you.”

“I’m sorry, honey, I’ll have to give you my cell number for last-minute appointments.”

I quickly went to the next subject at hand, Cam and Ayana. I wasn’t sure I could handle Cam being on the scene with this chick.
As I ranted in the hair salon, all the clients were all ears and I wanted them to be. I wanted everyone to know that Ayana
had stolen my husband. Tayshawn laughed with me but kept trying to force me to take my anxiety medicine. My doctor had started
prescribing it to me after I explained my mood swings. Since then I’d been cured. I didn’t need that poison anymore. All I
needed was my family back together and everything would be OK.