Page 1 of Sweetest Temptation
Marriage was supposed to be a sacred vow, a promise of forever. But to my husband, our marriage was more of a formality—a box he checked off rather than a bond to be honored. Gone was ten years of love, laughter, and building a life together; it was all crushed beneath the weight of lies and infidelity. Now, every photo, every inside joke, every kiss felt like a reminder of just how foolish I’d been to believe in us.
This nigga didn’t honor his vows. Not the “to love,” and definitely not the “to cherish.” None of it. I was fucking done; completely done with the lies, the cheating, and the countless promises the nigga never kept.
My first heartache came a few years ago when he stepped out on our marriage. Like a fool, I forgave him. But tonight—on our anniversary—of all nights, I made the stupid decision to look through his phone. I knew better. I knew I knew better. But curiosity is dangerous, and this time, it didn’t just hurt… it wrecked me.
Now here I was, on my knees on our bedroom floor, crying over a man who didn’t deserve me, let alone my tears. Moments later, what felt like forever passed before the man of the hour came rushing in, confusion painted across his face. But I didn’t give him a chance to play dumb or spin another story.
“You have a baby?” I forced the words out, my voice cracking as tears blurred my vision.
The room felt heavy. My heart was shattered beyond repair. His eyes went from me to his phone in my hand, opened with the text message from his whore, before diverting his eyes back at me.
“I’m...”
“Don’t!” I hurled his phone across the room at him, missing him by mere inches. “You ain’t shit!” I said, my words spitting out as my chest expanding and deflating at a rapid pace.
Tears continued to stream down my cheeks as I stared at my husband, the man that I trusted and loved with my whole heart. The faint sound of “Our Anniversary” by Charlie Wilson played in the distance from the Bluetooth speaker in our living room, a reminder of the romantic night Jerome had planned for us. What started out as a good day with the love of my life sending me a beautiful arrangement of flowers at the bakery I owned, to coming home and seeing our living room decorated with rose petals, twinkling candles, and the aroma of my favorite meal cooking, had turned into a night of betrayal and heartbreak. Finding out that my husband fathered a baby crushed me to the core.
“You need to leave.”
“I ain’t going nowhere. We can work this out. Let me finish dinner, and we can discuss this.”
This nigga!
He walked out of the room, disregarding my words to leave. He walked back to the kitchen, and I followed behind him withmy heart beating fast. He really thought I was playing with his lying, cheating ass. My hurt turned to anger in seconds, and before I knew it, I’d gripped the handle of the cast iron pot on the stove and hurled it at Jerome’s head. He ducked in time, and it hit the wall, creating a huge hole.
“Are you fucking crazy?” he yelled.
"Yeah, I am! How could you do this to me?! To us?! A baby, Jerome?! A fucking baby?! You are a trifling-ass nigga, and I want you out!”
He stood on the other side of the kitchen, his head hung low, avoiding my gaze. "I'm sorry," he muttered, but his words seemed hollow.
"Sorry?Sorry, don't even begin to cover it!" I shouted, my voice rising. “I want you out of my house.” I pointed toward the front door.
He tried to approach me, but I took a step back, shaking my head.
“I never meant for this to happen. I was at the bar with the fellas one night and had one too many drinks. I think she seduced me, baby. Nova, you know I never would have cheated on you again after you forgave me the first time,” he lied through his damn teeth. “It was a mistake.”
“A mistake? Nigga you cheated more than once!” I raised my voice, swiping at my wet face. “A mistake is leaving the toilet seat up. A mistake is forgetting to take out the fucking trash. Not sticking your dick in another bitch!”
Tears streamed down my face as I continued, “I trusted you. I believed in you when you said you would never step out on me again. You threw our marriage away, and for what? For a fling?” He tried to move closer again, but I held up my hand, stopping him in his tracks. "Don't," I said, my voice shaking. “Don't come near me. I can't even look at you right now. Just go.”
“Baby, Come on… Don’t do this. We can work this out. You can’t just throw away our marriage for a mistake. What would we tell our parents?”
“That my husband is a lying, cheating-ass dog. I’m not the one who threw away our marriage. No wonder you didn’t care about us having a baby. You already had one!”
“That’s not true. I wanted a baby just as much as you, and you know that. I can’t lose you over this. I won’t let that happen.” He tried to look hurt, but not as hurt as I was at that moment.
“Jerome, I have loved you through everything. Even when you cheated on me the first time. And you go and have a baby on me, nigga! I forgave you for all the times you stepped out on me, and you turned around and did me dirty like this? The only thing I regret is wasting all these years with a man who didn’t value me. For me!”
He stood there, silent, with a look of shame plastered on his face. I turned away, my shoulders shaking as I sobbed into the palms of my hands. The pain of his betrayal cut deep, leaving me feeling lost and alone in the place that once felt like home.
“Nova, I’m going to go and give you some space, but I’m not giving up on us. I can admit, I fucked up big time… but I’m not letting you go. I love you, baby.” Jerome tried to kiss me, but the death stare I gave him caused him to take a step back before leaving the kitchen.
I stayed in the same spot until I heard the front door open and shut before cutting the music off and heading upstairs to my bedroom. My emotions were like a storm of betrayal, sorrow, and fury all wrapped up in one. The love I once felt for my husband was now buried under layers of pain. I felt as if my heart had been ripped out and stomped on like the butt of a discarded cigarette. As I walked down the hallway, the clicking sound of my heels against the marble floors echoed loudly.
Tossing myself across my bed, I sobbed into the comforter, my tears making a puddle underneath my face. Memories of my semi-perfect life were now tainted by infidelity and a beautiful baby with my husband’s eyes and milk chocolate complexion. A baby that didn’t come from my womb. If anyone had told me years ago that the man I've been in love with since high school would break my heart, I would’ve told them they were lying. Jerome wasn’t a jock in school. He wasn’t the most popular guy. He was an average joe who was smart and walked a straight line. I was cool with that. I didn’t want a guy who every girl in the school wanted.
Our love story began in an art class back in college, surrounded by paint and a canvas. My heart fluttered, and I felt a warmth spread through me when near him, which was a feeling I couldn't quite place at the time. We started talking, first about our projects, then about our family, future plans, and his passion for art. He was the missing piece to my puzzle, or at least I believed he was then.
