Short Stories

Babyboy Extra

"Look I'm not doing this with you again Tyrell." Bassir sighed. He paused his cutting and hung his head.

"But you won't even look at me, Bassir. You haven't talked to me in a fucking week. I know I fucked up but you can't just ice me out." I glared at him.

"I'm trying but when I look at you I get mad." He looked up at me finally. "You we're in fucking jail Tyrell for three days. I was worried sick and you came home and went right back to it. I told you that I wasn't waiting for nobody in jail. I told you I'll leave the next time something like this happens." He said.

"Fuck you mean? I'm sorry it happened ut to leave me because of something so small the charges were dropped, you're not waiting for anybody." I argued.

"But I could have. We built a life together, we have five kids, what the fuck would I tell them. You're daddies in jail for the rest of his life for something he tells you never to do." He shook his head. "You don't give a fuck about my feelings. How do you think I felt running around pulling money from our accounts with cops on me?"

"But I'm not in jail, Bassir. I'm at home being cursed out over some shit you said you came to terms with 15 years ago. You acting like I purposely put you in danger."

"That's what it feels like. Fuck, Tyrell I don't want to be a single father because you couldn't sit the fuck down. I knew this would only end in jail or divorce." He sighed.

"Fuck are you saying?" I could feel my hands becoming sweaty and my eyes stung.

"Babyboy I can't do this. After we dealt with your father I vowed to never feel that again. I don't want to mourn you or have to put money on your books. I can't handle that." He whispered.

"So this is it? We're getting a divorce over an issue that's been handled. You'd really divorce me?" I asked, shocked. His tired eyes met mine but he said nothing.

I turned to leave the kitchen. I stormed upstairs to our bedroom. I can't fucking believe he's acting like this. Last week he had to get me out of jail because I was brought in on suspicion to sell. I guess the cops got a word that some of my shipments would be filled with drugs. Luckily the shipments I got that night were delayed enough for us to switch some things around. We had to hold on the operation until everything calmed down. I was able to get off the charge though.

Bassir is still mad at me though. I understand him being scared and hell I get his reasoning but to threaten me with divorce. I'm not in jail nor am I ever going to be and I'm not anywhere close to being killed. For him to even jump to divorce has me on fire.

I grabbed a couple pants and shirts along with my phone and stormed back  downstairs. I need to leave and clear my head.

"Where are you going?" Bassir rushed over to me. "Tyrell I didn't-"

"No you meant that shit. If you didn't you wouldn't have said it. Move bro I'm trying give yo ass yo fucking wish." I tried pushing past him. He grabbed me in his arms tightly.

"Tyrell I'm serious I'm sorry but you're not putting yoself in my shoes. I don't want you to leave even if I am mad right now." He cried.

"No you don't get to pick and chose when to throw me aside. What the fuck is wrong with you? I'm not putting myself in your shoes, you not putting yourself in mine. You think I liked calling my husband to get me out of jail, because I fucking didn't. I hate that you treat me like a nigga who only cares about himself. I haven't been that guy since I met you but you still act like you can't see how much I care for yo ass and our kids."

"I know you do Babyboy I just feel unsure sometimes." He whispered. "I think that some day you'll want out. You'll diecide this isn't the life for you and leave us."