Nobody's Girl (9 page)

–Trey Songz, “Me 4 U Infidelity 2”

 

Never before in Mills's life had he driven so fast to get home. His heart was pounding out of his chest and breathing was like inhaling and exhaling knives. He didn't know what he was going to come home to when he walked through the door. For all he knew, Farrah would be waiting on him with a gun aimed at his head, ready to pull the trigger. As quickly as he could, Mills parked his car and ran into the building. After hopping off the elevator, he unlocked the door and raced into the house.

“Farrah!” he shouted, searching each room.

Mills stopped in their bedroom. It looked like a tornado had blown through. Farrah's things were sprawled everywhere, like she'd been in a rush to grab her things and go. Mills wearily stepped toward her walk-in closet and found half of it emptied. Clothes hung off the hangers by a thread. The majority of her entire purse and shoe collection was gone.

She'd left him and this time it seemed it was for good. Mills wanted to break down, but he couldn't. This wasn't how their story was going to end. She was his wife. They'd barely been married three months. When he'd married her he'd envisioned them growing old, sitting on the porch in rocking chairs with one another. He had to find her, sit her down, and talk some sense into her.

She had to know that beneath all of the rubble and carnage existed an undying love that would never go away. They were in too deep now. How could they possibly give up? Keys in hand, Mills ran to the elevator and back down to his car. Farrah had left him, but he knew exactly where she was at. The speed limit was of no concern to him as he raced down the highway to Farrah's old apartment. Finally there, he jumped out of the car and ran up the walkway to the door.

Mills knocked as hard as he could and prayed that she'd come down and speak to him. Ten minutes went by and Mills's hand was beyond sore, but he refused to stop. He knew Farrah was inside.

“Farrah! I know you're in there! Answer the door!” He pounded his fist.

“Mills!” London stuck her head out the second-floor window. “If yo' country ass don't stop bangin' on my door, I'ma call the police!”

“Is Farrah up there?” Mills stepped back so he could see her.

“No,” London lied.

“Come on, London, I know that's your homegirl and you're tryin' to protect her, but that's my wife!”

“Negro, you can save that wife shit! Was you thinking about yo' wife when you got that bitch pregnant?! Oh . . . okay,” London said, smirking.

“Now you know you wrong?” Mills massaged his jaw.

“I ain't wrong! It's the truth!”

“You need to mind yo' fuckin' business!” Mills shouted, pointing his finger at her.

“I am minding my shit! You on my motherfucking doorstep lookin' like a homeless beggar! I ain't got no soup for you, so skip yo' li'l lyin'-cheatin'-ass on down the street 'cause ain't nobody over here got time for you!” London wagged her index finger and popped her lips.

“You's a silly bitch! You act like you Farrah! What, you want me or something?” Mills shot back.

“Don't nobody want you but Farrah! Farrah—” London looked over her shoulder. “You better check this sack of shit before I cut him! 'Cause if I cut him y'all won't ever be able to get back together!”

Farrah sat on the couch and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. London had completely blown her cover.

“I knew she was in there wit' yo' ol' lyin' ass! That's why I never liked you,” Mills barked.

“Good! Now we can stop pretending!” London shot back.

“Farrah! Come get this crazy bitch!” Mills yelled.

“Bitch? Oh nigga, I got yo' bitch!” London took off her earrings. “You's the bitch, an ol' beggin'-ass bitch!”

“Fuck you!” Mills shot her the middle finger and grabbed his dick.

“You wish you could fuck me, nigga! But I wouldn't let you touch me if you came with a million dollars!” London said, ready to go fight.

Having heard enough, Farrah pushed London to the side and said, “Mills, just go home.”

“Nah, I ain't going nowhere until I talk to you!”

“I ain't got nothin' to say to you. Plus, you owe London an apology.”

“Apology? I don't owe her shit! She in our business! You heard the way she was talkin' to me!” Mills screwed up his face.

“I don't give a fuck about none of that—just go home!” Farrah closed the window.

“Farrah! Farrah!” Mills called out for her.

Back on the couch, Farrah placed her knees up to her chest and buried her face in her lap. The sound of Mills shouting her name was like hearing nails on a chalkboard. She physically couldn't take it. All she wanted was a moment to be with herself to process the days' events. Mills would never respect that. All he cared about was healing the brokenness in his own heart.

“He's gone,” London announced.

“I can't stay here,” Farrah whispered.

“Why?” London sat next to her friend.

“'Cause he's only going to keep coming back.” Farrah closed her eyes tight as her cell phone started to ring.

She didn't even have to look at the screen to know it was Mills.

“See, he's not going to stop.”

“What do you want to do?” London wrapped her arms around Farrah.

“I gotta get outta here.”

 

 

Just when Jade thought she was about to break, just when she thought she'd withstood all she could withstand, a blessing from up above was bestowed upon her. After two more sleepless nights with a wailing, sick baby, Jade was near pulling the little bit of hair she had out. She was becoming delirious. Taking care of a sick child on no sleep was pure hell. She was starting to become dizzy and even caught herself on more than one occasion seeing double.

She needed sleep. She needed rest. She needed a miracle. It was obvious that Mills wasn't going to be of any help. Once again, he'd played her for a fool. Just when she thought they'd shared a moment and reconnected, he disappeared and resumed his act of deadbeat dad. Jade had come to the painful conclusion that she was going to be raising her daughter on her own. Although she was scared out of her mind to be a single mother, she had no choice but to somehow figure out how to survive for the sake of her and Jaysin. She didn't know how she would ever survive with no job and no money from Mills coming in.

Then she quickly remembered her mother and millions of other women who raised children on their own everyday. She wasn't handicapped. She was an able-bodied human being who could do anything she put her mind to. No, she didn't have any work experience or really any goals or ambitions, but she would work at McDonald's if that's what it took in order to provide for her daughter. While Jaysin screamed from her baby bed, Jade frantically fixed her a fresh bottle of formula, when her doorbell rang.

“Shit,” she huffed, twisting the top on the bottle. “Who is it?” she yelled, stomping through the living room.

“Delivery!” a male voice said.

“Delivery?” Jade opened the door, perplexed.

“Jade Thomas?” The deliveryman looked down at his tablet.

“Yes.”

“Can you sign here, please?” The man handed her the tablet.

“I didn't order anything, sir.” Jade shook her head.

“Well, we have a delivery here for you, so can you please sign where the
X
is so we can start unloading the truck.”

“Who is the delivery from?” Jade took the tablet and signed her name.

“Umm . . . it's from Corey Mills. Hey, isn't he the Gatorade guy?”

“Yeah,” Jade answered as Jaysin continued to scream.

“My kids love him. Ay boys, start unloading the truck!” The deliveryman said over his shoulder.

Bewildered, Jade stepped aside as five different men began to whisk in box after box. There were cases of Enfamil and Pampers. Then boxes of toys and racks of clothes were brought in. Tears of joy rushed to Jade's eyes. She wanted to fall to her knees and thank God, but before she could, two ladies appeared.

One was her neighbor, Mrs. Whitmore, and the other was a nurse. Both were there to help her with Jaysin. Mills hadn't played her after all. Eternally grateful, Jade said a silent prayer to God and allowed everyone to do the job they'd come to do.

 

 

Mills was a man in despair. Several days had gone by and he hadn't seen or heard from Farrah. He'd tried calling her, but was met with the sound of the operator telling him that the number he'd tried reaching wasn't accepting any calls. He'd gone to her office, but the only people there were Camden, the interns, and assistants. Camden wouldn't give him any answers and he for damn sure wasn't going to call London.

He knew that Fashion Week in Paris was nearing, but he didn't know if she'd left early or was just hiding out somewhere in St. Louis. He was out of his head with worry. Mills didn't know what to do. He had to find his wife, but he didn't know where to turn or where to go. Like most men, he never thought this day would come. Mills had become so caught up in his lies that he figured Farrah wouldn't catch on. But foolishly, he'd underestimated her.

Now she was gone and there was nothing he could do about it but suffer the consequences. It sucked, because his heart yearned for its heartbeat back. Mills had actually started to believe that she'd continue to put up with his inconsiderate ways, because no matter what he did Farrah was always there. Without Farrah he felt like death was knocking at his door. Mills had never experienced this kind of torture before. He didn't even know it existed.

This shit was gut-wrenching. He would've rather for Farrah to cut him across the throat then to just fall off the face of the earth. If he could, he would rewind time and do things right. He would've never gone to see Jade that night. He would've stayed at home with Farrah and made love until the sun came up. Now he might not ever get to experience having her in his arms again.

Each night that passed, all he did was sit and reminisce on all the things they did with one another. Thoughts of them snuggled on the couch, watching movies, making love in the shower, the days they'd lay in bed and just talked about everything and anything, or how she'd fall asleep in his arms, all constantly tormented his mind.

He never knew losing someone you loved could hurt this bad. Now that she was gone Mills realized how bad he'd fucked up. He could've loved Farrah so much better. He thought he was a better man than what he was portraying. For years he looked down at Khalil for the way he treated Farrah, only to turn around and treat her worse. The cold shoulder she was giving him was well-deserved.

Surrounded by a pile of blunt leaves, Mills guzzled down his fifth glass of Jameson whiskey. The smooth, potent liquid slid down his throat with ease. For the past few days Anthony Hamilton's
Coming From Where I'm From
CD stayed stuck on repeat. Mills was worn out. Functioning on no sleep or food and missing the hell out of Farrah was getting the best of him. If Farrah didn't come save him quick there was no telling what he might do.

No amount of drinking or smoking weed would kill the brain cells inside his mind or take away the pain. Only she could cure him. Mills ran his hands down his face and blinked back the tears that stung the rim of his eyes. Millions of tears flooded his heart, but Mills—being the man he was—wouldn't dare release them. As he willed himself not cry, someone knocked on his door. Mills purposely hadn't spoken to anyone except his assistant in days, so whoever was at his door could step.

“Come on, Mills! Open the door!” Teddy said from the other side.

Mills poured himself another glass of Jameson and acted as if no one was there. Gulping down the fresh glass of whiskey, he turned the volume up on the stereo.

“Word?” Teddy shouted, knocking even harder. “Open the damn door!”

Mills groaned and swung the door open, letting Teddy in.

“Damn nigga, what?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Teddy shot back. “You need to be happy I even came over here to check on yo' soft ass.”

“Bite me.” Mills walked back over to his island and resumed his pity party.

“What the fuck are you over here doing?” Teddy looked around, disgusted.

The loft was a wreck and it smelled like pure ass.

“Fuck!” Teddy covered his nose.

“I know you're on suicide watch, but goddamn!” Teddy opened a window. “Wash yo' ass, dude!”

“If you don't like it, there's the door.” Mills motioned his head toward the door.

“Let me know when you're done with this woe-is-me-act.” Teddy poured himself a glass of alcohol. “And quit hoggin' the blunt.” He snatched it from Mills's hand and took a toke.

“You know, I never knew how annoying you are until now,” Mills shot, rolling another blunt.

“And I never knew how much of a bitch you are until now,” Teddy snapped back. “You act like you lost yo' dog, yo' fuckin' bike, and yo' girl. I know shit is all bad right now, but you gotta pull it together. You're wife is gone and you over here moping around like you Drake and shit.”

“Don't you think if I knew where my wife was I'd be wherever she was at, tryin' to make this shit right?” Mills looked at Teddy as if he were stupid.