Damon
It's the day after Christmas, and this
bitch—aka the Wife-- has just given me the best mu'fucken present
ever! She tells me she doesn't want this marriage no more. There's no
point in having a relationship with no romance, no sex, no trust.
Hell, how the fuck do you trust someone who's lied to you from day
one about who and what she was?
This bitch suckered me in with photos
from the past: a body with curves that would make a Lowrider model
envious; long brown hair with full lips; cat-like eyes that would
make you stumble over your fucken feet if she batted them at you.
That was the past. What was standing in
front of me now? A two hundred fifty-plus pound, baby-voice talking,
insecure sack of overweight piece of shit who's sucked the fucken
life out of me for the past 3 years. And now it's done.
The only thing I don't like is the way
she's talking shit to me in front of my son, calling me all kinds of
no good son-of-a-bitches. Honestly, I'm glad she's letting her true
feelings out. She tells me how she wasn't ready to take care of
another husband, much less his kid.
His kid.
And here Lamar loved her like there was
no other woman in his life. He'd push his nana to the side to spend
time with her and now he sees he was nothing more than “my kid”.
I could smash her damn face in right now, but the look on Lamar's
face lets me know he needs me by his side more than me getting knee
deep in her ass.
She goes on for five minutes, and I
stand there and take it. She goes on talking about my son like he
isn't there, saying Lamar will never be shit in life, and he'd end up
just like me: a no-good bastard who can't express his feelings. She
must've seen the look on my face, seeing how fucken pissed off I was,
so she grabs her shit and waddles to the door, and without a look
back, she's gone. The apartment is finally quiet, thank fucken god. I
don't know how much more of that damn whining I could take.
I look at Lamar, his head hanging and
hands balled up into fists at his side. I put my arm around him and
hug him. What's to say at a moment like this?
“Merry Christmas, mijo”, I tell him
and kiss him on his forehead. He raises his head and looks at me with
tears in his eyes and I remember he's only a kid who loved my “wife”
with everything he had, and didn't deserve this. I feel like such a
damn punk right now. He finally gives me something, that smile. The
one that tells me that everything is okay, and hugs me back.
“Merry Christmas, daddy.” He stays
hugging me for a few more minutes, which is cool with me. He's been
my light since he was born, and I've forgotten what my purpose was in
life: to protect him, provide for him, and make sure he has a good
life.
Thanks, wifey. You pulled my head out
of my ass and you gave me my freedom. That's twice I owe you.
Nice!
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