Excerpt from KNIGHTS OF PASSION: GRIFFIN KNIGHT (Coming in December)
An excerpt from the forthcoming first release in my three-book Knights of Passion series:
“For what?” I asked.
“She wanted to know how you were doing. She doesn’t have your new phone numbers.”
“She can reach me by email,” I said. “The only things we need to talk about are taxes for this year and getting the divorce finalized.”
“Damn, was it that bad?” Morgan asked. “You don’t even want to talk to her?”
“There’s nothing for us to talk about. We didn’t talk when we were married so why start now?”
“Maybe she’s having second thoughts,” Morgan said.
I knew Morgan was probably thinking that if Phyllis was asking about me then maybe there was a chance for us to reconcile. He was probably hoping for the best because in his world marriage was all good. But not everyone had it like him and Mina. From what I could see they had an excellent marriage. All anyone had to do was look at them together to see that. Every time they looked at each other fucking birds started chirping, butterflies appeared out of nowhere and flute and violin music began playing.
Anderson and Morgan didn’t know how bad my marriage had been almost from the beginning. I hadn’t told them and didn’t intend to. They knew I was more than through with my ex but I hadn’t given them the dirty details. I hadn’t told my cousins what happened on a Saturday afternoon almost a year ago.
On that day, since I was going to be watching college football Phyllis told me she was going out to the mall.
I hadn’t told Anderson and Morgan how on her way out Phyllis paused in our living room long enough to ask me if I wanted her to pick up something for dinner on her way home.
I didn’t tell my cousins how I’d noticed that Phyllis had an old canvas tote bag slung over her shoulder, a bag that until that day had lived in the back of the guest bedroom closet, or how I’d been about to tell her that it probably wasn’t a good idea for a black woman to carry that kind of bag into a store because it would make her a shoplifting suspect.
I didn’t tell them how when Phyllis tugged at the bag’s strap the strap broke and the bag’s contents spilled onto the carpet.
I didn’t tell them that the contents of the tote bag included an old portable CD player and a CD of love songs by Luther, Jill Scott and other crooners titled For Lovers Only. The spilled contents also included a red lace bra and thong set I’d never seen before, and a Trojan Pleasure Pack…with the box already opened.
Phyllis was on the pill. We didn’t use condoms.
I never told Anderson and Morgan how when I looked up from the floor to my wife’s face I could see the assault brewing in her eyes—how I knew she was getting ready to use attack as her defense. She’d probably intended to spit at me that if I’d met some previously undefined need of hers she wouldn’t be fucking somebody else.
I didn’t tell my cousins how I’d beat Phyllis to the punch, how instead of going off I’d remained calm. And calmly I’d said, “I guess we have something in common after all. We don’t like each other so we fuck other people.”
I’d sat and watched Phyllis as she knelt and scooped up her lover’s kit and put it back in the bag. I’d almost wanted to laugh at how she avoided looking at me as she packed up her guilt. I watched her grasp the bag’s ruined strap and leave without speaking a word. And as she closed the front door behind her I’d thought that like that damaged bag, our marriage wasn’t worth the cost of repair.
I probably should have been pissed off, but I didn’t care enough to care. All the incident did was show me it was time for us to move on with our lives.
When Phyllis and I talked the next day she agreed with me.