Nobody's Girl (23 page)

Farrah felt her world crumble before her eyes. It was like déjà vu. Here she was, happily in love with a man who was apparently having a baby with somebody else. Farrah and J.R. had never discussed who the woman was that was with him the night of the BET Awards. She remembered they had joked around about her, but J.R. gave her the impression that she was just there as arm candy that night. She never bothered to ask any more questions on it. Now she wished to God she had.

She took out her phone and tried calling him, but he didn't pick up. He told her he was going to sleep when she left, so he had probably turned his phone off or put it on silent. Farrah had two choices right about now. Go home and confront J.R. about everything or put her business first and still attend the gala. She decided it'd be best for her to go to the event. Her drama would be waiting for her when she got home, so it made no sense for her to skip an event that would be good for the Glam Squad.

 

 

The fifth annual Autism Speak Gala at the Coronado Ballroom was a gorgeous affair. The room was gorgeously lit. Forty tables with the finest china filled half the room. Flowers flown in from Africa were formed into the perfect centerpieces. St. Louis's elite was in the building. Everyone from Rams football player Cain Townsend to former Cardinal player Albert Pujols was there. Artists like John Legend and Tamar Braxton were slated to perform. A three-course meal would be served and the finest liquor was being guzzled by the minute.

Farrah hardly knew anyone there besides Billie and socialites Dylan Carter and Mina Gonzalez. She stood alone up against the wall nursing a glass of champagne, wondering when it would be a good time to dip. Her feet were sore from wearing six-inch heels and she had been in a zombie-like state almost the entire time she'd been there. She kept thinking about what she had read and she could not believe this was happening to her. She kept trying to convince herself she was having a nightmare and any second now, she'd wake up.

Farrah glanced down at her watch. It was only a little after 9:00. She'd only been there an hour and was already over it. She was parandoid that perhaps some people at the party had read the article or heard about the rumor and were now talking about her. Everytime someone said hello to her or tried to make small talk, she became nervous that they would ask her about the situation. She'd already cut a check for 5,000 dollars and shown her face. She figured she'd done enough and decided to leave. Farrah gulped down the rest of her drink and headed for the door. On her way out she surprisingly ran into Mills, who was on his way in.

“Mills,” she said, shocked.

“Hey.” He looked equally as stunned. “I didn't know you would be here,” he said, dressed in a custom Tom Ford suit.

He looked as dapper as he did on their wedding day.

“Yeah, I'm about to leave, though.” Farrah spoke nervously.

“It's wack in there?”

“As hell,” she laughed. “I couldn't take it anymore.”

“Shit, you making me not want to go in.”

“It's up to you. Just don't say I didn't warn you.”

“Where you heading?” he asked, wanting her to stay.

“Home. J.R. is there waiting on me.”

“Oh,” Mills said with a look of disappointment in his eyes.

“Where is the Wicked Witch of the West? Oops—I mean Jade.” Farrah smirked. It felt good to ask about somebody else's business if it meant stepping away from hers for a second.

“She at home,” Mills chuckled.

“I'm surprised she's not attached to your hip.”

“To be real with you, me too,” he joked.

“That chick is crazy, but that's what you like.”

“You didn't leave me much of a choice. You didn't want me.”

“Mills,” Farrah became serious. “Let's not go there.”

“I'm just being real. I've been through too much shit to be hiding the way I feel. I miss you and I know somewhere deep down inside you miss me too.”

“It doesn't matter if I miss you or not. Us dealing with each other isn't healthy.”

“Says who? What we had before I fucked up was pretty fuckin' special.”

“It was,” Farrah admitted.

“Look, I don't wanna go in there. Let's go grab something to eat and talk.”

Farrah didn't know if all the air in her lungs had escaped or not, but it sure felt like she couldn't breathe. This entire day was surreal to her. She had gone from being happily in love with the man of her dreams, to finding out he was having a kid with somebody else, and now here she was talking to her ex-husband. She felt like she was losing her mind. Maybe a quick bite to eat with Mills would help her get her mind off of things. It couldn't hurt anything. They'd eat and catch up and that would be it. She agreed to leave with him and they strolled onto the street. Little did either of them know, but as they left together a random partygoer snapped a picture of them.

-Iggy Azalea, “Down South”

 

The minute Farrah's back met with the Four Seasons Hotel sheets she realized she'd fucked up in a major way. It was midnight and she and Mills had eaten at Uncle Bill's in their black-tie attire. They'd laughed, reminisced, and caught up on each other's lives. It was as if time had erased all the ill feelings they harbored for one another. When she looked at him Farrah no longer saw hate. All she saw was a man whom she'd once adored and was making her laugh at the moment.

She felt like shit when the reality of what they had done sunk in. On the other hand, though, J.R. had cheated on her, so she had nothing to feel bad about. She was tired of having men dog her out while she just sat there being faithful by herself. She turned her phone off on purpose just in case J.R. saw her missed calls. She wasn't up to getting into a confrontation about him and his future baby mama. She'd already been down that road and it was not a road she was willing to ride on again. Besides, the more she and Mills talked, the more she realized she still loved him. As they sat across the table from each other at the restaurant she realized that they still had unfinished business that needed attending to. She had to figure out and understand why she still cared. Was it because she still loved him? Or was this a rebound for her because of what she found out about J.R.?

Did she unknowingly want him back? Whatever the answer was, she had to figure it out. And no, fucking Mills wasn't the way to get to the root of her problems or take away the pain she was feeling from J.R.'s betrayal, but when he placed his lips upon her, she felt like she was home again. This man knew all the kinky things she liked and he knew exactly what her soft spots were. The familiar feeling of his hands rubbing her body felt so right. She couldn't get enough of him. All she saw was him. All she wanted to think and feel was how good it felt to have her body pleasured. As he climbed on top of her and slid his dick inside of her wetness, she became lost in the euphoric feeling that overtook her.

 

 

Mid-morning the following day Farrah was on her way to her apartment. She'd dreaded going home because she wasn't sure what would happen with J.R. when she got there. She wasn't sure if she was ready to confront him about everything. After turning her phone back on, she checked her voice mail and to her surprise, there was no message from J.R. She did hear a few voice mail messages from London telling her to call her back as soon as possible. London had also sent her a bunch of texts. The first few were to tell her about the article and then the rest were just asking Farrah to let her know she was okay. She learned through her Google alert that a picture of her and Mills leaving the charity gala had hit the Net. Farrah didn't care, though. The pictures from the
Us Weekly
article had also hit the Web so J.R. had to have known his spot was blown too. She didn't know what to expect or to find once she walked into the house. J.R. had blown up her phone the entire night. He didn't stop calling her until around six o'clock that morning. Farrah felt like throwing up as she parked her car. Her stomach was turning and she felt like absolute shit as she climbed the steps heading to her apartment.

What would J.R. say to her when he saw her? Would he cuss her out, or yoke her up? Would he admit to his wrongdoing? Would he apologize to her or expect her to apologize to him? Farrah was really not prepared for what was about to happen, but she had to face the music at some point, so she took a deep breath and braced herself.

Farrah slowly stepped into her room and looked around. She didn't see J.R. She kicked her heels off and quietly walked around the room to see if he was hiding in a corner or something. For whatever reason she feared seeing his face. When she didn't spot him or his things, her heart began to beat out of her chest.

“J.R.?” she called out only to get no answer.

He was gone. She should have known better. J.R. wasn't the kind of man to stick around and deal with nonsense. He was not the kind to argue and yell. He simply had no time for it. For them to sit there and get into a back-and-forth on who did what to who would be pointless. It wouldn't even be worth the rage. Sitting on her chaise lounge, Farrah pulled out her cell phone and held it in her hand. She wanted to call J.R. and at least try to get him to have a civil conversation with her. She was hurting and she knew he was hurting too. She felt like the biggest asshole having slept with Mills, though. It was a rash decision in an attempt to cover up the pain she was feeling.

She knew he had to have learned everything by now. There was no way he could not know that she knew about him and Lizzy and she knew he knew about her and Mills. Farrah went into her call log and pressed
call
when she got to his number. Her body felt like a ball of fire as the phone rang. She'd begun to perspire under her arms and under her breasts. With each ring she felt dizzier and dizzier. After six rings and no answer J.R.'s voice mail clicked in. Unable to find the words to explain or express everything that had happened, Farrah hung up.

 

 

Unlike Farrah, Mills didn't know that a picture of them leaving the charity gala had hit the Internet. He had his phone on silent the entire night and morning. He figured Jade would be pissed when he walked through the door, but Mills was all prepared to lie and say he'd crashed at Teddy's crib afterwards 'cause he was too drunk. Mills was completely caught off guard by Jade's fury when he entered their home.

“You might as well turn your black ass around and walk right the fuck back out,” she snapped.

“I know you're mad, but damn, let me explain.”

“Explain what—that you stuck your dick back in that bitch's pussy? Nigga, save it! I don't give a fuck about your explanation. I am going to say this to you, though.” Jade got into his face.

“I know I fucked up and did you wrong in the past.” She had a sudden flashback of the nights she wouldn't come home and he would call her phone. She would stroll in the house without a care in the world and not bother to give any explanations. If she did ever try to explain, she would just lie and say she had stayed at a friend's house.

“But I can't take it back,” she said as she came back to reality. “If I could, I would, but that does not give your ass carte blanche to fuck around with my heart every chance you get. You're not going to keep going back and forth between me and that bitch. Like I told you before if you want her, then go be with her. If you want me, get your shit together and act like it! In the meantime turn your black ass around and get the fuck outta my house!”

Mills wanted to check her and remind her that she was living in his crib, but now wasn't the time. He could see by the tremble in her bottom lip that she was hurt. She was right. She didn't deserve his half-assed, selfish bullshit. He had to figure out his feelings and quick.

-John Legend, “All of Me”

 

The media attention surrounding Farrah and the drama between her and Mills and the “love triangle” as the media had titled it between her, Lizzette, and J.R. was crazy. Farrah couldn't leave the house without some photographer in her face. They camped outside her house and her office. It had never been this bad before. Farrah hated all of the media attention especially since it was for a negative reason. All of the gossip surrounding her life was surreal.

To make matters worse, another article was released a few days ago stating that Lizzette Perez was not pregnant with J.R.'s baby. It said that Lizzette and J.R. used to mess around at one point, but that they had stopped long before she became pregnant so it was highly unlikely that the baby would be his. The article did not disclose who the source was that stated all this. They just said that it came from a very reliable source. To read that the rumors might not be true was a relief and a burden for Farrah. In a huge way it was like a weight lifted off of her shoulders to know that J.R. hadn't cheated and gotten someone pregnant after all. On the other hand, though, this left Farrah with a lot of explaining and apologizing to do, because now she was the only one in the relationship that had cheated. The guilt of her sleeping with Mills was eating her up and she still wanted to talk to J.R. about everything. She didn't feel right that he never gave her the chance to talk about any of this.

She had called him twice since her initial phone call and he still hadn't answered the phone or returned her calls. She wondered how long he'd continue to give her the silent treatment, because so far the silence had been excruciating. Parked in an alley, Farrah sat with a black snapback and oversized Chanel shades on. Deciding she'd try calling J.R. one more time, she picked up her phone and dialed his number.

This time instead of it ringing a million times, her call was forwarded straight to voice mail. Farrah didn't know how much she could take. She felt like she'd been slapped in the face. She didn't understand why he wouldn't at least speak to her so they could disscuss everything. He had to understand that she was just as mad as he was at one point. She slept with Mills under false notions. She was under the impression that J.R. had betrayed her at the time it happened.

Instead of hanging up like she'd done each time before, Farrah decided to leave a message.

“Hey, it's me. Umm . . . call me back. I really want to talk to you about everything that's happened. I didn't mean to leave you sitting at my place like that. You gotta understand, I read the article about you and Lizzette on my way to the gala. I had a lot to drink and wasn't thinking when I bumped into Mills. Anyway, I miss you. Call me back,” she spoke softly.

Ending the call, Farrah stared out the window. She hoped J.R. would call her back this time, but even if he did, how would she defend her actions? She just felt horrible. Farrah didn't even have time enough to ponder her message when she heard a tap on her window. Caught off guard by the sudden sound, she jumped. She had no reason to be afraid, though. It was only Mills. They'd agreed to sneak and meet up to talk. Farrah unlocked the door and let him in.

“It's cold as a muthafucka out here,” he said, shivering.

“Hi,” she said flatly.

“You know with that hat and glasses on you look even more noticeable.”

“Whatever.” She flicked her wrist.

“This shit is crazy, man. These muthafuckin' paparazzi just won't quit.”

“I'm sick of their asses.” Farrah rolled her eyes.

“So what's going on wit' you?” Mills settled back in the passenger seat.

“Well, J.R.'s done fuckin' with me. The night you and I hooked up he was at my house.”

“Damn,” Mills laughed.

“That shit ain't funny,” Farrah snapped. “I should have never left with you. I should've taken my ass home and you should have too.”

“I know. I just don't like that nigga.” Mills sucked his teeth.

“Why? He's done nothing to you. You're the one who fucked his bitch.”

“Well, you couldn't have been so much his if it was so easy for you to sleep with me,” Mills countered.

“I am his!” Farrah shot back, trying to make her words true.

“You ain't got to convince me,” Mills scoffed.

“Anyway,” Farrah changed the subject. “What happened between you and Jade?”

“She put me out,” Mills laughed.

“Explain to me what the fuck is so funny?” She looked at him like he was crazy.

“It's funny 'cause she put me out of a house that ain't hers.”

“Yeah, it's mine, but let's not even get in to all that,” Farrah said as she rolled her eyes.

“You mean it's mine. You didn't want the house when I offered it to you. Remember?” Mills countered.

“Whatever! Your ass was dead fucking wrong for moving her ass into a house you bought for me in the first place. She probably don't even know that you did that shit.”

“You can't get mad, Farrah. What I do is none of your business anymore. You're the one who wanted the fuckin' divorce. Live with your damn decision,” Mills spat back.

“It's hard to live with my decisions when I still have feelings for you. I don't get it. I love you, but I know we shouldn't be together. Why does everything have to be so complicated?” Farrah said as she put her head in her hands. You could hear the desperation in her voice.

“I agree. I still care about you, but I love my family.”

To hear Mills say that he loved his family hurt Farrah to the core. Jade had always been a thorn in Farrah's side. Hearing Mills say he loved his family was the same as him saying he loved Jade.

“Why am I even here?” she mumbled under her breath.

“What? What you say?” Mills asked.

“Nothing, I gotta go.” She turned the key, starting the ignition.

 

 

The vibe inside the studio was mellow. The lights weren't up too high. The temp on the track J.R. was laying down was at a hypnotic pace. Bottles of liquor flowed and the finest weed was being lit. J.R. didn't care for any of that stuff, though. For hours he tried to spit some of the illest verses he could come up with, but the voice mail message Farrah left him a week prior plagued his mind. He was pissed that she had the balls to leave him that bullshit.

She'd obviously fucked her ex-husband and didn't even think enough of him to admit the truth. She at least deserved to give him that. But Farrah was a coward. He should've realized that from the moment they met. She didn't have the guts to leave her idiotic husband after he'd cheated on her and bore a child with another woman. But J.R. had looked past all that in hopes that she'd become his girl and he could show her what true love was really like.

But it was obvious no matter how much he proved his love for her, she would never accept it or see it for what it was because of how messed up she was from her past. It was like subconsciously she thought she didn't deserve it. What hurt J.R. so much was that she was so quick to go back to her ex and sleep with him off of some stupid article she read in a lame-ass magazine like
Us Weekly
. J.R. had never given her a reason to doubt him or mistrust him. He kept it real with her from the start. Maybe he should have told Farrah a little more about him and Lizzy's past, but he didn't think it was necessary. The past didn't matter to him. The picture of Farrah and Mills didn't show them doing anything physical, but J.R. had a gut feeling something had gone down between the two of them the night of the gala event.

That night J.R. put his phone on vibrate as soon as Farrah was gone so he didn't hear his phone when Farrah tried calling him. When he woke up around four o'clock the next morning and checked his phone, his mailbox was full of messages from Farrah, the press, his publicist, and everybody else trying to talk to him about the article with Lizzette and the pictures of Farrah and Mills. Everything happened so fast, he had to leave her house and go somewhere to clear his mind. He knew better than to call Farrah back because he had to collect himself before talking with her. He wanted to get all his facts straight before speaking with her.

Once he came to grips with everything going on, he moved quickly to do some damage control. He confronted Lizzy and tried to straighten everything out. That conversation was still plaguing his thoughts. He never thought Lizzy would be the type to pull some grimy shit like that. Even though it had happened a little over a week ago, J.R. still remembered it.

 

 

He had pulled up to her apartment and banged on the door until she answered.

“J.R., what are you doing here?” she asked as if he was the last person she expected to see.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Lizzette? You claiming to be pregnant with my seed and pose for some pictures and you don't know why the fuck I'm here?” J.R. yelled, walking past her and into the living room.

“I'm sorry, J.R., but I didn't know what else to do,” she said as she sat on the couch and put her head down.

“Da fuck you mean you ain't know what to do?” J.R. looked down at her round stomach. “You know damn well that ain't my baby you're carrying, so why are you dragging me into something I ain't got shit to do with?” he asked.

Lizzy looked up at him and started sobbing uncontrollably. At first J.R. didn't care that she was crying. She deserved for him to yell at her. If he was any other type of man, she might've even been hit. But the more she cried and he saw how vulnerable and fragile she looked sitting on the couch crying, his anger began to subside a little bit.

“Look, Lizzy. I don't know what's going on with you, but you know that's not my baby. Me and you haven't had sex in a long time.” J.R. spoke to her as he joined her on the couch.

“I know, J.R. I'm sorry,” she said turning toward him. “I let my emotions get the best of me. I felt so stupid when you left me standing in the club. I really liked you and you just walked out with her without even saying anything to me. You never even called me to say it was over, J.R. You broke my heart!” she said as she broke out crying again.

“Okay, I was wrong for that. I should have never led you on like that and I'm sorry. But where in there do you get off saying you're pregnant by me?” J.R. asked, still trying to make sense of things.

“After not hearing from you for a few weeks, I went out drinking and I had a one-night stand with some random guy. I didn't get his number or anything, because I wasn't trying to have any connections with him,” she explained. “So a few weeks later when I didn't get my period I panicked. I didn't get an abortion because I couldn't live with myself if I did that, so I decided to keep it.” She stopped to blow her nose. “But then my doctor bills started adding up and I was desperate. I had heard rumors that magazines pay money for information and stuff, so I went to
Us
magazine and I told them I'd sell them the story and pose for pictures if they paid me.” She turned to J.R. and looked up at him. “I was mad at you for not calling me and I knew if I told them it was your baby they'd pay me more money. I didn't think I'd feel so dirty after I did it. I tried to take it back, but it was too late. I'm sorry, J.R.!” she exclaimed, breaking out into tears again.

J.R. didn't know what to make out of what she had just told him. He was still pretty upset over what she did, but when he looked at her, he saw a desperate girl, alone and confused and he felt sorry for her.

“Okay. Listen, I'm still pretty pissed about what you did, but I'm gonna help you out and in return I need you to help me out,” he said to her.

“What is it? I'll do anything,” Lizzy said in a hopeful tone.

“I'm gonna give you some money to help you get on your feet and get ready for this baby of yours. All I ask of you is that you call the magazine and have them retract your story. Fair enough?” he asked.

“Okay. J.R., thanks for helping and being understanding. You really are one of the few good guys left,” she said to him.

 

 

“Nigga!” One of the producers snapped J.R. back to reality. He had gotten lost in his thoughts again.

“My bad, son. Just give me a few,” J.R. said to the producer as he walked out of the studio.

J.R. decided it was time to call Farrah. He'd ignored her phone calls long enough. J.R. pressed her name on his phone and waited for her to pick up.

“Ay, I got your message. I love you and I can't change that, but you're a selfish person. Like . . . you're selfish. I've worked hard at getting over the in-love part and I'm not trying to regress. I'm not tryin' to double back to that. You say you miss me . . . I miss you too, but man . . . I'm done. Be good.” With that, J.R. hung up and went back to the studio. J.R. was over giving his all to her. If she couldn't comprehend how much he cared for her, then oh, well. She could continue down the self-destructive path she was on without him.

 

 

Farrah turned off the hot water that trickled down her body like raindrops and got out of the shower. Her phone had rung and by the sound of the ringtone she knew it was J.R. She was elated and sick to her stomach that he'd finally called her back. There was no telling what he was going to say. To her surprise, Farrah saw that he left her a message. Farrah pressed the number one, dialing her voice mail and listened to what he had to say.