Page 7 of Inadmissible
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Okay,” he agreed quietly—carefully. “Can I talk, and you listen?” I nodded for him to continue. “I’m sorry for not being completely transparent with you. I should have told you about the baby, and I planned to after we were married. I hoped by us being married, you’d be less willing to leave me when you found out she was pregnant.”
“You’ve been cheating on me with her this whole time.”
“That wasn’t my plan. I really did end things with her. We didn’t start messing around again until she called to tell me she was pregnant. I was excited about the baby though I felt bad about cheating on you, so I started going to her appointments. One thing led to another and we just . . . started up again. But I was going to stop when we were married.” That made me laugh. “You have to believe me, Taj. I went to her place to call it off and let her know I would only come around for my son.”
“Oh God. You’re having a son? May he turn outnothinglike you.”
Clenching his jaw, Destin huffed before he ran his hands down his face. “I’m sorry, Taj. Please tell me you’re not completely done with me. I know the wedding is off for now, but can we stay engaged and maybe do couples counseling or something? I know I fucked up, but I can change for you.”
My mother’s words rang in my ears as I stared at him. “You won’t change for me. Not for long at least. You need to change for yourself, and clearly you don’t think there’s anything wrong with what you’re doing because youkeepdoing it.”
“Taj, that’s not true?—”
“Except it is!” I yelled louder than I wanted to. “You cheated on Brittany with me, didn’t you? You lied and said you broke up with her, but you didn’t . . . did you?”
He tried to take my hands into his, but I snatched away. “Look, that has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with this! You’re a cheater! It wasn’t a onetime mistake; it’s your character. You’re pathological. Just like RJ. Just like Senior. Just like?—”
“Who? Slowdown, baby. What are you talking about?”
Tyler swung the door open and looked from Destin to me. “Bring your ass in this house, Taj. And if a tear drops from her eye and hits the concrete, you better hope you can make it to your car before I make it to you,” he warned, grabbing my arm and pulling me into the house.
Destin hesitated, but when he noticed the tears slide down my cheeks, he turned and quickly made his way toward his car. I wiped my tears away as Tyler slammed the door.
“I’ve had about enough of these bum ass niggas making you cry,” he grumbled as he wiped away my tears, making me smile in a way that only he could. “You’re far too good for him, Sis. I know you gotta heal and purge and shit, but don’t stay down over this nigga for too long, aight?”
Nodding, I caught the last tear and inhaled a shaky breath.
“I won’t,” I promised him and myself.
He was right.
Destin wasn’t even worth my tears. He might not have been worth my love either, but it was sincere. And I would grieve thefact that it wasn’t returned in a healthy way. Every man I’d been with in my adult life, I’d planted seeds of love within them.
They all had pieces of my father in them, and it took my conversation with my brother today to make me realize that. All I could do was hope one day, if I had the courage to try again, that a man would allow me to reap the harvest of my love by giving me the healthy relationship I deserved. If I had any chance of that happening, I’d have to be with a man who was nothing like my exes . . . or . . . my father.
Tristan
Today was one of the days that made my law firm grim. Any time I was scheduled to do a strategic stroll for Montgomery, Pierce, Walker, and Gough (Go), people knew their jobs were on the line. As the strategist of the firm, my priority was planning, litigation strategy, negotiations, and risks and crisis management. When I did SWOT (SWAT) walks, I checked the strengths, weaknesses, opportunities for growth, and threats to success for all employees, not just the attorneys. I had one of my favorite paralegals, Brooke, and private investigators, Gino, to create files for everyone that would help me speed through the individual interviews.
Brooke and my executive assistant, Rodrick, trailed behind me as I walked down my floor of the firm. Each partner had their own floor, and there was also the first floor where the reception area was along with a café. The sixth floor had conference rooms, and the seventh floor had two large rooms devoted to play and rest equipped with showers, beds, and recliners. The other room had games, card tables, and pool tables for those who felt recharged by recreation.
I was proud of what me and my guys had created. MPWG wasn’t just the largest BIPOC law firm in the South, but itwas also the most profitable law firm in Rose Valley Hills. And to think four Black, young hoodlums from the hood were responsible for this greatness was always a reason to thank God. We had our personality and priority differences, but at our core, me, Kaos, Zander, and Carson had the same mission—defending and helping those in need.
As Brooke handed me the last of the manilla folders, I asked Rodrick, “Is this the last of the interviews for the day?”
“Yes, sir. And we only have five. Three people aren’t here today.”
That made me stop in my tracks and turn to face him. “Three people called out on SWOT Day?”
He fought to pull his smile in as he nodded. “Yes, sir. I called to confirm they knew what today was, but they all are conveniently sick.”
“Is that right? Brooke, can you?—”
“Already on it, Mr. Pierce. Their files are on your desk, including their performance reviews from last quarter. Only one was on probation.”
