Page 9 of Tarek

I didn’t bother to listen to the rest, I pressed one to delete the message. Picking up my water can I move to my lush Monstera.

I examine the leaves, observing the little aerial roots. I would trim those next weeks I don’t want them to become too unruly.

“Next message. You fat bitch, that’s why you can’t have kids. I should.”

Should what? I pressed delete and moved along. I don’t want kids with you, asshole. Does he think calling me fat or a bitch will make me break down in tears? Wrong person bae.

“Next message.” A sniffle and hack come through the speaker, I chuckle darkly to myself.

“Oh, oh. Looks like someone is having respiratory distress,” I sing while watering my Monstera.

“Okay, Penelope. I shouldn’t have cheated. I was wrong. Please answer the phone.” And there it is, a confession. Three weeks of him telling me I was imagining things. I was jealous of his co-worker for no reason. Three weeks of saying I am crazy.

“Who’s crazy now?” This man is going through the stages of rage over this phone.

He gaslit me from Lakeshore to Timbuktu. Making me feel like I was being dramatic and delusional.

I had to prove to myself that I wasn’t. I hid a camera here, an apple tag there…and I filed all the evidence I needed against this cheating fool.

“Next message. Penny, answer this phone right now! Please, baby.” My ex’s voice cracked like he was in pain. I pressed delete and switched my phone off. To believe I almost brought him to my house. My spirit knew he wasn’t the one, but a girl could dream.

Thankfully I only met him at his home or a hotel.

Melvin O’Neal was dumb; it must be because he was pretty. All that muscle, behind that light brown skin, all of that…to be wasted on a man who lies and cheats.

Chuckling to myself, I place the water container under the kitchen shelf. In all the people you will cheat on is someone who works in the field of computers, and software development. What he doesn’t know is that I am more than just a …what did he call it? Oh, right a computer girl.

Did I do all the things he said I did over the phone? I can’t recall. Am I sorry it happened? No. I mean to have your money donated to the children cancer fund and a domestic violence home…leaving you with nothing. That can be distressful, I guess. Added to that your boss received emails from anonymous sources claiming that he sexually harassed the women in his job. It didn’t help that the woman he was cheating with turned around and said she was harassed by him. She saved herself and threw him under the bus. Of course he was fired. What company wants a lawsuit on their hands? Oh well, next time he’ll learn not to cheat.

I tighten the robe belt around my waist and shuffle my way into my bathroom. If I could vote for the best room for my home, it would hands down be my bathroom.

Upon entering, the words modern, clean and pristine come to mind. The space is bright, the white walls and the granite white countertop does add that level of hotel chic. To the far left there is a glass shower door which is partially visible, revealing a gold shower head and white tile walls. Opposite the shower the toilet rests discreetly against the wall. Complimented by custom-built shelving holding baskets of rolled towels in geometric precision. Recessed lighting glows overhead, beaming on a fluffy beige mat that I bought from a farmers’ market in Charleswood. My bathroom is my haven. As I begin my skin care routine. My watch vibrates.

12:06am, Mom was calling. I should act like I was sleeping, but she knows the truth.

Clicking my index finger against my thumb I answer.

“Hi mom,” I begin rubbing the hyaluronic acid on my face.

“Hi honey. How are you doing?” She sounds loud in my bathroom.

“I’m doing my night routine. How is Japan?” I ask as I take out my Sugah Bae Sugah Bliss body oil and proceed to smooth it against my legs.

“Oh, it’s beautiful. Have you spoken to your brother yet?” she asks.

After years of living with a parent, you can tell from her tone when a fight is about to brew. “Yes, I spoke to Archer.”

“I don’t understand why he was to be in Lakeshore of all places. Are you coming to his fund raiser?” My mother’s judgmental tone begins to seep through the phone.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I reply. Switching off the bathroom lights, I shuffle into the kitchen, my fluffy pink bedroom slippers slap against the wooden floors.

Checking the alarm, I wait for my mother’s thoughts in 5, 4, 3,2,1

“Is Melvin coming with you? You know my colleagues will be there. It will also make a good impression on Archer’s sponsors.”

I exhale, give my kitchen one last look and hurry to bed.

“Penelope are you there?”

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