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“Our kids.”
“Whatever.”
He stopped halfway up the stairs.
“What you mean whatever?”
I stared at him.
“Xay, I am not doing this with you.”
“Doing what?”
“Whatever the fuck this is.”
He looked at me then at my would’ve been overnight Puerto Rico bag and laughed.
This nigga.
“So…y’all fighting.”
I stared at him.
“Damn.”
He laughed.
“That was quick.”
“Do you hear yourself?”
“What?”
“You came here supposedly for clothes and now you’re fishing for information about me and Levin.”
“That’s my brother.”
“And I’m about to be your ex-wife.”
His face changed.
Every fucking time I said it.
Like his brain still rejected the sentence.
“You keep saying that shit.”
“Because it’s happening.”
He came back down two steps.
“So what? You just gonna divorce me and go be with Levin?”
“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing with Levin.”
That was the truth.
“But I know what I’m doing with you.”
