Page 18 of Sweetest Temptation
“Samir, why do I have to keep calling Jamila to get in contact with you? And why is she always so rude to me?”
“Paige, we are divorced. You do know what that means, right? It means you do not have access to me anymore. Now, if this is why you keep popping up on me, the next pop-up won’t be pretty.” I warned her.
“Samir… I just want to have a conversation with you. I know it’s been two years, but I can’t continue to live without you. I fucked up by cheating on you. I know that now. But all I’masking is for you to forgive me, so we can try and make this work.” She sounded delusional.
“You right. It’s been two years, yet you still haven’t moved on. I damn sure did. You went and fucked another nigga behind my back and had a whole baby on me. If the roles were reversed, would you have forgiven me?”
She hesitated before she spoke, her lips pressed together, jaw tight. “I made mistakes, okay? But you weren’t exactly innocent either.”
“The difference is, I was loyal,” I said, leaning forward on my desk. “You wanted a man who’d worship you, and I gave you that. You wanted for nothing, Paige.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have what I needed the most, Samir. And that was time. I was lonely.” She was trying to guilt-trip me.
“Lonely?” I let out a humorous chuckle. “You weren't lonely when you were running up racks in the Gucci store. You weren't lonely when you were taking all-inclusive trips out of the country with your friends on my dime. I was hustling to keep a roof over our heads, and food on the fucking table!” I slammed my fist down on the desk, making her jump. “And not one time did you tell me that you were fucking lonely!”
She flinched but quickly tried to recover, squaring her shoulders. “See, that’s your problem! You thinkmoneyfixes everything! You thought throwing cash at me was the same as being a husband!”
I shook my head, my jaw clenched firmly. “Nah, my problem was thinking you’d understand the grind… Thinking you’d hold me down while I built something real for us. But instead, you let the streets whisper in your ear until you started believing I wasn’t enough.”
Paige’s eyes glossed over, her voice trembling. “You weren’t there, Samir. Nights turned into days. I needed my husband to touch me. I needed you to make me feel like I mattered.”
I leaned back in my chair, staring her down coldly. “And your solution was spreading your legs for the first man who gave you attention?”
“Don’t do that!” She snapped at me, her voice breaking. “You don’t know what that felt like.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Because while you were out chasing attention, I was out here dodging bullets and the feds, trying to build an empire from nothing. I would’ve given you everything—I did give you everything. But you sold us out for some temporary comfort. I’ve been done with you, Paige. We are done.”
She blinked back tears, shaking her head. “You don’t mean that.”
“The fuck I don’t.” I stood, walking around the desk until I was standing right in front of her. “You had a real one, Paige. And you traded me for a nigga that couldn’t even match my shadow.”
Her lips parted, like she wanted to argue, but the silence between us said it all.
“You can leave now. And don’t come back,” I said, turning my back to her.
“Samir—”
“I said leave!” I barked, pointing to the door.
She stood there for a few seconds, tears staining her face, before walking toward the door. Before leaving, she turned and said, “I love you, Samir. He could never be you.”
The door clicked shut behind her, but the anger in my chest didn’t go anywhere. I sat down at my desk, staring out the window, trying to get my mind back focused. Paige’s presence always puts me in a fucked up mood. No, I didn’t still love Paige, but she was my first love, so I had love in my heart for her, but that was it.
My desk phone buzzed, and Hailey let me know that my mother was on her way in. I quickly reached into my drawer and pulled out a can of air freshener. I sprayed some in the air just as my door opened. My queen, my everything, the woman who gave birth to me, sashayed into my office. As always, my mom was dressed to impress. She was wearing a cream Chanel pantsuit and one of her expensive-ass Birkin bags that she loved so much.
One thing about Clarissa Carter: she never came out of the house half-stepping.
“Hey, son. I see you working hard as always.” She smiled.
I stood to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. “You already know I be on my grind. Where are you headed?”
She got comfortable on the sofa against the wall in front of my desk. “I was on my way to see your grandmother. You know she just had surgery. I wanted to go check on her before your aunt and I leave for our vacation tomorrow.”
“I forgot. I need to stop by and see her. I know she is gon’ cuss me out.”
“You already know she is going to be on your ass. So be prepared for her to pull that belt out.” She cackled.
“Man, that lady is always threatening to whip my ass.” I shook my head, chuckling.
