For You I Will

Nine

Brandy
➰

"Reading these articles sho' nuff got me hungry," Aunt Loretta said, scrolling through her cellular device with one hand while tapping her stomach with the other. "Whew chile, I can't wait 'til them biscuits come out that oven."

She, myself, and Whitney were seated in her apartment, awaiting the breakfast she prepared for us. While waiting, we conversed over coffee and hot tea, uncertain if it would be just the three of us this morning.

Dana still hadn't graced the group with her presence since the day suggestions were made to her about allowing Chrissy more freedom, and frankly, I tried to avoid Monica's presence as much as I possibly could.

After expressing my willingness to take things further with her, she wholeheartedly rejected me. She claimed we agreed to only explore all things sexual—which was true—but I couldn't help the feelings I developed. The woman also said that she 'loved Cornell just too damn much to leave him; that she just couldn't do it. It broke my heart hearing her sound just as any other woman that stayed in an unhealthy relationship for way too long. She deserved better, much better.

"Well, what kinda articles you reading, Auntie?" I asked my aunt, just after taking a sip of my tea. I looked over in her direction, watching as she tried to exit the articles but struggled some.

"Chile, look at you," Whitney chimed in, laughing a bit at Aunt Loretta. "You don't even know how to work that damn phone. Crazy tail self." She glanced at me, moving her head from side to side.

"Shut up, Nippy," the other woman finally spoke, chuckling just as myself and Whitney had. "And it's some damn news article about them banks downtown getting robbed back to back. Ain't that some shit?"

"Shol is," Whitney replied, still showing utter disbelief. "They bet not touch my damn money, I know that much."

My aunt waved her off, curving her lips just to the side of her face. "Chile, please, that's Troy's damn money."

I rolled my eyes, wishing Aunt Loretta had just known when to remain in her place sometimes. Whether it was Whitney's money or her husband's, it benefited her none whatsoever.

I also rolled my eyes just at the mention of Troy and the sight I captured of him and Jason. That was the last I'd seen either of them and still didn't know how to feel about it.
I mean, sometimes I felt quite insincere being seated in Whitney's presence knowing just what I knew not only about my husband but hers as well.

Appearing to be rather embarrassed and slightly offended, Whitney fixed her mouth to respond to Aunt Loretta, but before she could, Monica entered the apartment.

I sighed, not exactly excited nor enthused to see the woman. It wasn't ideal to look into the face of the person that shut me down.

"Good morning, er'body," she said, greeting us all. She was dressed in a grey sweatsuit with pearly white sneakers upon her feet and her hair wrapped under a silk scarf.
I had to admit that—even dressed down—Monica was still so beautiful. The way she wore her nude pigmented lipstick and traced her eyes with that bold, black liner—I couldn't help but find her attractive.

Not wanting to engage in conversation with her, I only waved while finishing the rest of my tea. I then rose from the table and headed for the kitchen, hoping to find something there that'd distract me.