Page 2 of Falling for Autumn
“Bitch, I just call ’em like I see ’em.”
My cheeks burned as I flushed with embarrassment. Aside from the fact that she was livestreaming on one of the more popular social media apps, there was a growing crowd around us. People had stopped their games to see what was going on.
“And you . . . when I finish dragging your ass, you won’t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of,” the woman proclaimed, pointing her finger in Wilson’s face.
“Baby, come on. You’re doing too much. You’re jumping to conclusions, and it ain’t even like that. I told you that Mesha isjust a friend of mine. Tell her, Mesha,” he pleaded, turning to face me.
I couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to ask me some shit like that. This man had held my heart in his hands for the last nine months. He had had me in every position we could think of and ones we had invented. Thankfully, I had never gone down on him.
As much as he’d wanted me to, it wasn’t something that I enjoyed with men. I had done it twice before with past boyfriends, and because I didn’t like it, I refused to do it again. I had only suggested it tonight because I knew that I would kick his ass again in bowling. I had won three games so far, and we only had one more to play. Besides, Wilson loved eating me out. He kept his face between my thighs.
“You know what, Wilson? Fuck you. If you want to sit here and lie to her by denying me, knowing that you’ll be back in my bed tomorrow if I let you, then so be it. But I’m not lying about shit, and the fact that you not only won’t claim me, but want me to deny your ass, tells me that you’re not shit.”
“Bitch, don’t pretend like your fat ass didn’t know he was married. Unless y’all fucking at your house all the time, I’m sure that you saw my pictures all over our house.”
I took a step closer to her and looked down on her. “You’ve got one more time to call me a bitch, and I promise you that I’m gonna whup your ass all up and down this bowling alley.”
She laughed. “Girl, please. You’re not whupping anything.”
I stepped closer to her again, and she backed up. “I see you didn’t call me bitch again. And as it relates to knowing you two are married, I have never seen a hint of another woman in his apartment. Hell, I have the key to it, I check his mail, and I even stay there sometimes when he heads out on the road.”
“What apartment?” she asked, turning on Wilson.
Holding his hands out, Wilson replied, “Baby, I would never take another woman to your home.”
“I said what apartment, Wilson?” she demanded.
“The one he has at Twenty-Three Oak Hill place, apartment B,” I declared, glaring at him.
She dropped her phone and started whupping his ass. Their son started crying and begging, “Mommy, stop.”
I was over this shit. I couldn’t believe that he had done this to me or his family. He was cowering against her blows, all the while she was screaming, “Get your ass out of here and go home now! I mean it, damn it. Think I’m playing, and I promise if you don’t drop this fat ho like a hot potato, you’ll never see your son again.”
I had half a mind to turn around and beat her ass for constantly calling me out of my name. But there were two problems with that: I would never fight over a man, and that was exactly what it would look like I was doing, and I didn’t want to traumatize that poor child more than he already was. What kind of mother took their child out to see some shit like this?
I walked so close to Eniya that she barely had breathing room. She quickly pulled her phone back up to continue live streaming. Her scary ass thought social media would save her from an ass whupping. She thought that I was scared to say or do whatever I needed to do, but I wasn’t.
“You can call me a fat cow, pig, or whatever else you want to call me. But your husband has been loving this cow for the last nine months. He clearly couldn’t get enough of my pussy because he always has my fat ass sitting on his face or riding his dick. He loves this fat ass, wet ass, juicy ass, good-tasting pussy. Go ahead and ask him. He never washes his face or brushes his teeth after eating this fatty. He brags about how it tastes. He ate me out in his truck before we came here. Ask him about it. Go on . . .” I urged, waving my hand at her. “Ask him. On secondthought, don’t. I’m sure you’ve tasted it more times than you realize.”
Eniya looked like she was going to throw up, and I wished that I could see the comments on the other side of that phone. I wondered what her viewers thought now.
Rather than getting caught up in those thoughts, I turned to walk out of the bowling alley. I headed to the side of the building and pulled out my phone to order an Uber, which arrived five minutes later. The Uber whisked me home in the shadows of the night in silence. I wearily climbed the steps of my brownstone as my next-door neighbor came out of his house.
“Hey, Autumn.”
I waved.
“You good?” he asked, pausing to take a look at me.
“I am. Just tired.”
“A’ight, baby girl. Let me know if I need to put a foot on somebody’s neck or a bullet in a nigga’s head,” he teased.
I smiled and replied, “Thanks, October. But I’m good. Just need some rest.”
“A’ight, be good.”
He jogged down his steps toward his Porsche, and I disappeared inside my home. Tired, but needing to face the inevitable, I went to my bathroom and pulled out the supplies I had purchased earlier. And rather than doing it with Wilson in celebration of what I suspected, I sat on the toilet and peed on the stick alone, and then on the second stick.
