Page 141

I sat back.

“Nigga, really?”

He groaned and rolled slightly away from me.

“Sam.”

“What man rejects his wife trying to give him head?”

“In the morning, babe.”

“The morning?”

“Yeah.”

Then this nigga pulled the blanket back up.

I stared at the back of his head.

For real?

“Xavier.”

Nothing.

“You serious?”

“I’m tired, Sam.”

I sat there another second.

Then climbed off the bed.

“Man, fuck you.”

He didn’t answer.

I grabbed my robe off the back of the door and went into the bathroom.

Closed the door.

Turned the light on.

Then stood there staring at myself in the mirror.

This nigga really had me fucked up.

I wasn’t ugly.

That wasn’t me being conceited either.

I knew what the fuck I looked like.

I had been back in the gym.

And more importantly, I was his fucking wife.

A good one.