Chapter 4 (Jason)

I damn near wore the carpet to just a thread in that small hotel room. I had been pacing for what seemed like days. I didn’t have the strength to deal with Skylar, and going home to be a victim of domestic homicide wasn’t an answer either. I didn’t know what to do. When I realized that I was somewhat short of breath and had sweat dripping from my forehead, I decided to sit down to calm my nerves. My phone vibrated and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Skylar had been texting and calling since I dropped her off. She was starting to get on my fucking nerves! After all the shit that just popped off, she had the audacity to give me an attitude when I dropped her off. She left a voicemail.

I decided to check it, just to see what she wanted. The first couple of messages were from the office. The next message caused me to go numb and allow the phone to slip from my hands. It was the message I cutoff when I ran to make love to Skylar in the shower. It was Summer. She was letting me know that she was going to Roxanne’s and had a surprise for me later. If only I wasn’t thinking with my little head, I would have heard her message and all of this could have gone down differently. I felt like shit. Summer and I had been having our share of problems, and here she was trying to get us back good and make it work and I was out giving her time to someone else.

My initial thought was to call up my boy Anthony and have him to run the “rise & fly.” Whenever one of us got a text that read, “rise and fly” we knew some shit popped off and to say that the chick was really with me. Summer knew the game though. She saw me run that game and she was a part of it years ago. I racked my brain for about thirty minutes trying to come up with the best way to slide out of this shit I had stepped in. I remembered something my daddy would always tell me, “Son, sometimes you’re the puppy and sometimes you’re the hydrant.”

I had to man up and deal with this one. Out of all things I’ve done, and all the times that I’ve cheated, I’ve never been caught. Hell, Summer probably didn’t even know that I was cheating.

I can’t even believe to think about what the kids would think if Summer and I went our separate ways if she can’t get past this. Ayden has always looked up to his mother and me, telling us that he would find a wife just like his mother, and treat her just like his dad would. He still says the exact same things now.

I respected the fact that my son never hopped from girl to girl. He played the field, but he was so smooth with it. That boy really took after his old man. He had the utmost respect for women and it showed in his actions towards both his mother and sister.

I always shook my head at the men who instilled their trifling ways in their sons, and by the time that adolescent monster developed, that “rolling stone” was long gone.

Summer and I had always agreed to be our children’s advocate. Even when we trust them to make wise decisions, we still back them up.

As I stood in the mirror looking at my own reflection, I saw that I had become the one person I swore I would never be. Looking at me from the mirror was my father. All of the feelings of neglect and anger came flooding back and before I knew it, “SMASH”!

I was standing amid broken glass with a bleeding hand. I wasn’t even aware that I put my fist through the mirror until after it was done. How in the hell could I let myself turn into that low-life?! He never thought twice about what he did to momma, and had no idea what it was doing to my brothers, sister, and me. That gigolo didn’t give a damn about nothing, or nobody except his third leg. I remember how momma would just keep going on with her life, like she hadn’t just caught daddy in their bed with Ms. Frazier, the lady that lived at the end of the block.

Momma still made his plates, kept the house clean, drew his baths, and loved him unconditionally. Even though she never broke her routine, she lost the sparkle from her eyes. Momma once had eyes that could tell stories and move mountains. It was like pops stole tiny pieces of her with each woman he ran his dick into. Now, here I stood, in the middle of a grimy hotel room with a bleeding hand and was that same heartless bastard that was stealing tiny pieces of my wives sparkle. I’ll never forget that empty look. It was the same look I saw in Summer’s eyes just before she walked out of Roxanne’s. On the outside she was smiling and walking with confidence, but the eyes are the mirrors to the soul. The look in her eyes, before she walked away, was equivalent to that of a child whose world had just been shattered after realizing Santa Clause was merely a figment of his imagination.



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