Charmed By A Steel City Hustler
Chapter 5 — He Loves Me Not

Lola:

"I think Bash is cheating on me sis."

The words fell out my mouth and I could not believe them myself. I loved my husband more than life itself. Admittedly I got with Bash on some get rich quick shit, but that changed over time. He was the first man to ever treat me with respect, love, and encourage me to be better. I am a stylist and damn good at it, but never got any recognition for it.

I wasn't making decent money working under someone else. Booth rent was more than half my take and the hours were ridiculous. My momma was taken care of by our daddy, and he never complained about it. I went to college briefly and decided it was not for me. I dropped out and went to beautician school.

The clientele I was pulling in were low budget hood rats. They bragged about their dope dealing baby daddies or side fools. I got so tired of hearing their stories and here I was struggling to pay rent. The men I dated were all putting on a façade. Never had more than a few stacks on them.

Hell, I be damned if I take care of a fool. The one big fish I had escaped and that cut me deep, because I thought we had something real. I began to look for signs of a baller and one day I found it in the bar. I watched Bash for weeks before approaching him and got him hooked the first night.

I did up and quit my job and got comfortable in the beginning after we said I do. I let my wifely duties slide and did me. That shit felt good to have money in the bank. No worries about my car getting repossessed, or a gas notice on the front door. Recently there had been a change in his attitude toward me.

Bash stopped our date nights, shopping sprees and surprise getaways. Every woman had a sixth sense about their man cheating or lying. I had ignored it up until this morning.

Bash had always hated my morning ritual of blasting music while singing. Once he would enter the bathroom. I delivered my signature head and fuck game. We were all good. He used to wake up and turn the radio on to get me in the mood for the morning sex session.

"Lola, are you drunk again? That sounds crazy as hell."

My sister Lois replied pointing the cutting knife at me. She was prepping food for some business dinner that was being held at her home tonight. Donnie had set up for his colleagues to come over and seal a deal. He didn't ask her, nor did he hire a caterer.

Perfect Lois did not give him any lip just went out and bought all the food to prepare her damn self. Could not have been me. I would have cussed him out and said fuck no. My little sister was the perfect wife and yet she was unhappy with her husband.

"Lo, no, I am sober because you will not let me crack that fancy champagne case," I said eyeballing the crates in the corner. Lois shook her head and went back to cutting up the vegetables. I had no idea why she called me over to help and keep her company.

My cooking skills were on the level of watching our momma and a few things I picked up over the years. Lois was like a damn chef without the degree. She is the only child who used her easy bake over to start a baked goods stand in our neighborhood.

"Here you damn lush drink this. Now, why do you think he is cheating?"

Lois handed me a bottle of Arbors Mist from the fridge. I gave her a head tilt and eye roll in response. This weak white girl drink was going do nothing for me. I opened the bottle and drank straight from it. My sister went back to her food. I briefly glazed over the morning events, and she choked when I got to the part about rough sex. If I didn't know her any better, I would think she was fucking Bash. She was red-faced as hell like she knew how good my man put it down. "Lola, you tripping I mean it just sounds like a bad morning is all. Maybe he really did have to get to work."

Da fuck was going on here.

"Whoa, who are you and what have you done with my sister? Lo, you are the queen of paranoia when it comes to Donnie. That man worships the ground you walk on. I come in here worried about my own hubby, and you take his side. Unbelievable it is okay for you to have suspicions, but not me. Bash is a street fool, and they operate on a different thought process than Donnie's suit and tie wearing ass. Pussy and money are what keeps them going. He ain't been craving my pussy like before, nor treating me like a queen. Some bitch on the street is sucking my damn dick!"

My voice was raised, and I was on my feet huffing like a bull. This was one of the reasons why I never liked doing relationship chats with my sister. Lo was the good girl type and married a damn lawyer. She was never into the streets or hood shit. Lois was daddy's star child.

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Although we grew up privileged, I never took to the upper-middle class lifestyle. All my friends were hood chicks that chased dope boys. I was eating all that rebellious talk now as I was married to the man of my dreams, and he was losing interest.

"I have asked you repeatedly not to use that language in my house, Lola, sheesh. Did it ever occur to you that maybe your husband wants more from you? You said he yelled about you getting a job. We started mapping out a business plan months ago. How about we dust it off? Get you your own shop up and running."

Lois was seriously begging me to slap her. Her supportive response is for me to get a damn job. Lois worked hard and was underappreciated like hell at her company. That is because she chose to enter the white mans' field. Then to add another nail to her career coffin, she worked with her husband.

Well in the same firm and everyone there knew it. That was the stupidest move ever, coming from an intelligent woman. Lois didn't mind working for a living, and I had no qualms about it. What Lois did not realize was that her husband wanted arm candy not brain food. The sooner she realized that the better off her marriage would be.

"You are supposed to comfort me and help think of ways to catch him in the act Lo. Damn you are like a robot, just jump to fix thyself and not the person actually doing wrong." BANG!

The bowl of vegetables hit the floor and I looked her in the eyes. A set of tears rolled down her cheeks.

Fuck!

I went too damn far with my rant. Lois always had low self-esteem as a child. We were both beautiful and had no problem getting boys or friends. Lois was wise beyond her years and that turned other kids off her. She went through a phase where she mimicked other individuals' style, language and behavior. Make a long story shorty that ended with us in a huge fight with the popular girls, and we barely won.

"You truly are something else and like your husband. I'm walking away from this conversation. Don't you dare pick up that filthy food up off the floor! You better chop up some more! Got me fucked up and cussing, raining all over my goddamn mood. Ain't this bout a bitch? Aaaaah!"

Lois walked out the kitchen and up the steps ranting. I just shook my head at her little tantrum. Yes, I hit a sore spot because she did not give me the reaction I needed. Yes, it was childish, and I would have to apologize for getting her riled up. I stood up and began picking up the food from the floor tossing it into the trash. I hit the picture icon on my phone and dialed Bash, straight to voicemail. That was odd because he always answered. I got the ring back message he was busy. Thinking this was an error I dialed again and straight to voicemail.

I sent a text asking if he was okay and an automated response came back. What the fuck was going on here? I sat back down on the barstool and replayed all of this out loud.

"Straight to voicemail on two calls, and a busy text message reply. There is someone else. He blocked me from his phone?"

The tears fell from my eyes. I put my head on the counter and let my soul out. I never had a man reject me before, ever. I felt myself starting to get hot and clammy. I sat wiping my face and did the breathing exercise classes I took with Lo. The more I relaxed the busier my mind got. What if Bash had found someone else, a white girl, or one of my former clients? This could not be happening I was not going to lose my lifestyle. I refuse to lose my husband to a bitch that was low- class. My skin got hot and clammy as my breath begin to speed up erratically.

"Lola, I need you to...oh my God, are you okay!"

My sister rushed down the steps and picked me up off the ground. She reached into the pantry next to us and pulled out a brown paper bag. I was hyperventilating so bad that I can't recall falling out of the chair. The bag was placed over my mouth, and I began to take in big gulps of air.

"Lola, breathe. Calm down. Just breathe, big sister. What the hell happened? I was upstairs for five minutes?"

Lois was always the caretaker in our household as kids. She truly had a heart of gold, and we didn't deserve her. A few minutes passed and my heart rate had settled down and I threw the bag from my face. The tears began to flow again. Lois repeatedly asked what was wrong while cradling my upper body in her arms. I looked up at her and spoke those fearful words.

"He doesn't love me anymore more. Oh my God."