A Weekend Affair Read Online Free PDF

ready to talk to him, to be honest. What would I say?
    I pressed the call button by his number and waited. Those four rings seemed to be the longest I’d ever waited. With each ring, my heart swelled under my rib cage. Before I’d left to go to the airport, Malik and I had been fighting like enemies instead of husband and wife. I screamed and yelled. He yelled and became defensive, refusing to answer my demands to know why. Why would he do this to me?
    I didn’t understand it, and I didn’t ever think I would. How could he leave our home and go play house with a woman he barely even knew? We had eight years, eight fucking years under our belts! We had two damn kids! How dare he do this to me—to us! As the phone rang, the tears I tried to keep at bay angrily rolled down my burning cheeks.
    Why had he called me? Did he want to try to fix our marriage? Was I willing to fix our marriage? What would he say to me when he answered the phone? When Malik was mad, he had the tendency to be venomous with his words. He could make me feel lower than low with his verbal assaults. To be honest, I could be a firecracker with words too, but at this point, I just didn’t have any fire left in me. I was broken.
    Malik didn’t answer.
    I ran a hand through my braids as I sighed. I didn’t know what to do besides try to call him back later. I laid my phone down and thought back, trying to figure out where it had all gone wrong. Things had been tight financially as of late. To be honest, if Gabby hadn’t been covering the cost of food while here, I’d probably be assed out. I’d squeezed enough money from my financial aid to cover the cost of rooming.
    That was why I had enough to help with gas for the drive with a little left over. Anyone who’d ever been in a long-term relationship or marriage knew what it was to have a financial strain come in and wreak havoc. Still, I’d been the ever-dutiful wife. I did everything in my power to help my husband stand. He didn’t want me to work outside the home, so I made sure to stay in school so I could get those refund checks.
    I made sure to write until my fingers ached so I could get advances and royalty checks. And I only got a royalty check if the publishing gods saw fit to be nice to me that quarter. Most people would think being a traditionally published author meant you had made it. I was here to tell them their thought process was a delusion. The car note had fallen behind last month. Electricity was threatened to be cut off. Car insurance had expired. We had been in a real bind. So my refund check from school had come right on time. Shit, I still owed Gabby at least $800 from when she had helped me out months before.
    The fights about money and bills had been never-ending. The sex was barely there, and when it was, I was left so unfulfilled that it had started to feel like I was letting Mister climb on top of me and handle his business.
    As I was walking back down the stairs, Gabby was coming up. She had a big smile on her face so I plastered one on mine too. I didn’t want to bring her mood down.
    â€œEverything okay?” she asked.
    I lied. “Yeah, after I used the bathroom, I wanted to talk to the kids. Make sure they were okay. You good?” I asked with faux jubilance. “Daniel isn’t call stalking you, is he?”
    She waved and laughed heartily. “Girl, no. But listen, I was looking up the nightlife around here and found this jazz spot called The Treble Cleft.”
    â€œWhy, when you say cleft, I think of Michael Jackson’s chin?” I asked with mock seriousness.
    She chuckled as we both headed back down. “You’re so foolish. I was coming up to see if you’d be up for a night on the town. And don’t say no either. I can see that frown forming on your face and a ready-made excuse on your lips,” she quipped with a laugh. “You need this, Shell . . .”
    â€œGabby, you