“No!” Sabine defended. “He wouldn’t risk his future like that.”
“Whoa,” Parthenia held her hands up. “I was just asking.”
“That’s enough prying, I don’t have to explain the ins and outs of my marriage. Even if he couldn’t take everything on by himself, I have money saved.”
“Sabine!” Pam shouted, thumping through the house. “Where is your stankin’ ass husband?!”
“I…I don’t know.”
“You don’t keep tabs on your nigga?”
“Ummm, I didn’t think I needed to.”
“I heard Tate nasty ass throwing him a going away party and ain’t nothin’ there but five niggas and a army of freak hoes.”
“What?!” Narri pulled out her phone. “I am going to skin that muthafucka!”
“See now,” Pam pointed. “That’s the energy you need to be having.”
August 2, 2011, 3:33 am
Sabine felt the movement from her husband getting into bed at the wee hours of the morning. No call. No text. Nothing to explain that he was staying out late. He was getting comfortable as if he didn’t even have to offer her an explanation. Feeling the urge to cry she simply closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
AUGUST 2, 2011
Later that day…
“So you not gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong, Adair,” Sabine responded as she sat in the passenger seat with her arms crossed, staring every way but in his direction.
“Ain’t shit wrong, but you haven’t been fuckin wit me all day.”
“Why don’t you ask yourself why I haven’t.”
“The fuck am I supposed to know?”
“If you don’t know then neither do I.”
“You mad because I stayed out late?”
“Ding ding ding.”
“Bro…” Adair shook his head. “Then why not just say that shit?”
“Why do I have to explain something to my husband that I’m sure you know isn’t cool? Then you don’t call, text, nothing.”
“I was just out wit Tate bullshittin’.”
“Until damn near four in the morning?”
“Yea, we was at the hall.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yep, okay. If that’s your explanation and you think it’s a good enough reason not to call your wife and come home late then…okay.”