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This book contains mature themes, explicit language, and scenes of a sexual nature intended for adult audiences only. It is rated R and is not suitable for readers under the age of 18.
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Beyonce Knowles Home
October 21, 2025
After breakfast, I exchanged phone numbers with Tems so we could hang out. She and Sarah were a good time. I saw Sarah flirting with Kelly, and I need to tell her not to waste her time-Kelly's fake gay and just loves getting eaten by women.
She ain't shit, but that's still my girl, and I love her regardless.
As I was pulling into my driveway, I saw Onika's car and sighed. I really didn't have the energy to deal with her right now. I turned off my car and just sat there for a moment, trying to prepare myself.
A few seconds later, I got out and walked into the house. Nicki wasn't in the living room, so I knew she was in my room. I walked upstairs, and there she was, on my bed-face puffy and red.
"Girl, please."
"You can't come into my house unannounced anymore. Give me my key," I said, holding out my hand.
"Beyonce..."
"Onika, I'm not repeating myself. Please give me my house key," I said again. She sighed, digging through her purse and finally handing it over.
"Thank you. Now, you can leave," I added, heading to my closet to change out of my clothes. Naturally, she followed me.
"I didn't fuck him," she said.
I ignored her and continued hanging up my coat, refusing to acknowledge her. The tension in the room was suffocating. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to hear her apology-it wouldn't change anything right now.
"Beyoncé, can you say something?" she asked.
I turned to face her and asked, "What exactly do you want me to say to you right now? What do you want?"
"I just want you to know what happened," she said, her voice soft but heavy with regret.
"You cheated. I'm fully aware of that, and I don't want anything to do with you anymore. What's next?" I responded, staring at her, watching the sadness spread across her face, the weight of my words hitting her hard.
"That's not fair..." she whispered, barely audible, but it set me off.
"Not fair? What the fuck do you mean, not fair?" I snapped, my voice rising more than I intended, but I couldn't help it. She was pissing me off.
"He was there, Beyoncé," she stammered, her voice shaky now. "I was going through postpartum depression, and he made me feel like I mattered, like I was something. It was too much-taking care of the kids, dealing with everything, and you. I was drowning, and he was... there."
Her words hit me like a slap, but I tried to hold it together. I sighed, feeling my frustration showing in my face.
"I'll own up to my part," I said, my voice steady but cold. "I wasn't there for you like I should've been. I apologize for that. But we were both going through hell at that time. Still, that's no excuse, Onika. You had other outlets. You could've talked to me."
