Page 92 of It’s The Dawg In Him For Me

But at every commercial break, we were rolling our eyes, sucking our teeth, and making smart remarks under our breath.

By the second segment, I could feel myself cracking. His voice, his calmness, his damn nerve. I glanced over at him once, laughing during the show, and he wouldn’t even look at me.

My smile that I always held on air started to fade until he kicked me under the table to read the teleprompter.

“…and that’s it for today,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady to the very end. “I'm Mariah⁠—”

“And I'm Shyheim,” he finished. “Have a great day.”

“Cut!” the producer called.

The studio lights dimmed just a little, and the tension I had been holding in my chest all morning snapped loose.

I didn’t turn my mic off right away. I didn’t move. I just sat there for a second, staring ahead while everybody started to shuffle around, talking, moving on ‘cause it was a normal day for them, but it wasn’t for me.

I turned to say something to Shyheim, and he stood up from the table.

“Shy…Shy,” I said low, trying not to be noticeable. “Can we talk later?”

He took his earpiece off and leaned down toward me. “We have nothing to talk about.”

As he walked away from me, I stood up.

“ACTUALLY!” I yelled out, making the people around, including Shyheim, turn and look at me. “We do have something to talk about, SHYHEIM!”

All eyes went toward him.

“Mariah,” he shouted. “Don’t do this!”

I took my mic off and set it down on the table with a thud and headed down the little steps to the floor.

“You are doing some sneaky ass shit because⁠—”

“Iight, Mariah,” he said, cutting me off as he walked up on me. “This is not the place or time,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Why not here, Shy? Everybody that you've been talking to about me is in this room or listening, so why not do it here?”

Shy looked at me as I looked around the room, backing away from him. All eyes were on me as I let out a laugh.

“You know, Shy, earlier you talked to me about professionalism. Was it professional when you had my legs spread open in the middle of your bed?!”

A few heads turned. Producers, camera operators, and other people who were pretending not to listen but definitely were.

“Mariah,” he said through his teeth, trying to get me to walk closer to him.

“Shyheim wants me gone because we been messing around, and I won’t sign my divorce papers for him.”

Silence—heavy silence took over the room.

Shyheim's mouth dropped, and his light-skinned ass was turning red.

“You lost your fuckin’ mind!” he shouted, trying to save face.

“Did I?” I shot back. “Or are you just mad because what you wanted to stay behind closed doors has been brought to light?”

“Nothing has been brought to light because you are full of shit, Mariah. You are probably on drugs right now.”

I stepped closer to him because the last thing he was going to do was play me like some nut in front of all these people.