Two months later...
"When are you gonna tell her that I'm pregnant and that you don't love or want to be with her anymore?" Giselle asked, her voice lined with irritation. Her hand rested on her small but growing bump, her acrylic nails tapping lightly against her stomach. She was tired of being the side chick. Tired of hiding. Tired of only being loved in the shadows.
Dante exhaled, rubbing his hands over his face. They were in Selah's bed. The same bed he used to hold Selah in when they first moved into the apartment. The same bed that still smelled faintly of her vanilla body butter. The irony wasn't lost on him.
"I told you I’m working on it. It ain’t that easy," he muttered, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
"It ain't that easy? You proposed to me, Dante. You put a whole ring on my finger, had me out here looking like I finally won the prize. But you still haven’t told her shit!"
He flinched. Giselle wasn’t wrong. He had proposed. A five-karat princess cut ring, loud enough to silence all her doubts. Or so he thought.
"I just don’t wanna crush her like that," he said, more to himself than to Giselle.
"You already have. You think she don’t know what’s going on? Selah ain’t dumb. You just think she weak because she let you get away with murder. But she gon’ snap one day, and it won’t be pretty."
He rolled over and pulled Giselle closer, placing his hand on her stomach. "I’ma fix it. Just... give me tonight. I’ll handle it tomorrow."
Giselle kissed his cheek but said nothing. She didn't believe him anymore. Still, she let him hold her. Let him pretend. Let herself pretend, too.
Selah dragged her feet down the hallway of her apartment building. Her shift ended early, but the exhaustion still clung to her like heavy fog. Her scrubs were wrinkled, and the bags under her eyes told the story of a woman giving too much and receiving too little.
She unlocked the front door. As soon as she pushed it open, the stench hit her. Sex. Cheap perfume. Sweat. Her stomach turned.
Selah blinked hard and stormed toward the bedroom. Her heart thudded in her chest like a warning siren.
She flung the door open.
And there they were. In her bed.
Dante and Giselle.
Sleepy. Naked. Comfortable.
Selah’s vision went red. She grabbed the nearest object—a ceramic vase off the dresser—and launched it at the wall.
The crash jolted the couple awake. Dante scrambled to sit up. Giselle grabbed the blanket and tried to cover herself.
"What the FUCK?!" Selah shouted, voice cracking under the weight of betrayal.
"Selah, wait—" Dante began.
"You stupid or bold? Again? You really thought I wasn’t gonna find out?! In my house? In my bed?!"
Giselle opened her mouth, but Selah cut her off with a glare so fierce it made the other woman freeze.
"You got five seconds to get this bitch out my house before I forget I'm tryna keep my job and my freedom," Selah warned.
Dante jumped up. "Selah, stop! She’s pregnant."
Everything went still. The room. Time. Her breathing.
"What... did you just say?"
Dante couldn’t look at her. He dropped his head. "She’s pregnant."
Selah's heart shattered like the vase she just threw. The blood drained from her face. Her knees buckled, but she caught herself on the dresser.
Giselle got dressed quickly and dipped out without saying another word. She knew better.
Selah stood in the silence, the ringing in her ears drowning everything else out.
"Say something," Dante whispered.
"Make a choice," she finally said.
"What?"
"Who do you want, Dante? Me... or her?"
He hesitated. Stared at the floor. Then looked up at her with a sigh. "Giselle."
The word stabbed like a knife. Clean. Cold. Irrevocable.
Selah let out a short, bitter laugh. "Get out. Get the fuck out of my house. Get your shit and go."
He didn’t argue. Didn’t beg. Just grabbed his jeans and shirt, sloppily threw them on, and ran out behind Giselle.
Selah sat in silence on the couch, staring at nothing. The TV was on, but the sound was off. She could see the flickers of light dancing across the walls, but they didn’t reach her.
She tried to cry. Nothing came out.
Six years. Six years of lies. And she knew. Deep down she always knew. But believing the lie had become safer than facing the truth.
She picked up her phone and dialed.
"Yo?" Giyani answered.
"Come over. Please."
No questions asked.
Twenty minutes later, Giyani was in the living room holding Selah like a child. Letting her cry. Letting her be broken.
"He gone?" Giyani asked.
Selah nodded against her shoulder.
"Good. He shoulda BEEN gone."
"She’s pregnant, Gigi."
Giyani pulled back and cupped Selah’s face. "You gon’ be alright. I swear. This ain't the end. It’s the beginning."
Selah didn’t answer. But for the first time in a long time, she felt like maybe that was true.
Three days passed.
Selah hadn’t gone to work. Her manager left a voicemail saying they were giving her the week off. Word must have traveled fast.
She cleaned the apartment top to bottom. Washed the sheets. Burned sage. Rearranged furniture.
Dante’s things were gone. His cologne. His toothbrush. His hoodies. All of it.
She deleted his number. Blocked him on everything. Even emailed his ass a copy of the lease removal form.
Giselle posted a photo of the ring on Instagram with the caption: "When the side chick wins."
Selah laughed to herself. Let her have him. Let her deal with him.
There was a knock at the door.
She opened it.
It was Amar.
He stood there with a Tupperware container in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
"You looked like you could use some dinner," he said.
Selah smiled. For real this time.
"Come in."
YOU ARE READING
If I Was Your Man
FanfictionWill Selah finally embrace the man who's always been willing to fight for her? Or will her past convince her that she doesn't deserve happiness at all?
