She licked it up, swallowing every drop. The nut felt good, I couldn’t lie.  Spent, she lay on the floor, looking up at me, twirling a curl of hair with a bony index finger. She was lost in thought.

Fed up, I started emptying out my drawers, throwing my clothes on the floor.
“You’re not gonna give me the money?”
I glared at her, disappointed in myself for falling in this sick game.

Did I even know this woman?  Who was she?  What happened to my loving wife, that sweet woman who talked me into getting baptized and giving my life to God, the woman with the mother who introduced me to books?

“Hell no! And I’m leaving. It’s over; I can’t see you like this. We both fucked up, doing fucked up shit. I don’t love you.”

Yes I do, love you but not in love with you.

She was hurt.  “Ask me who my Mom was…”

Time to end this game.  “Fuck your Mama!”

My wife stood up and snatched her purse from the dresser. She pulled out her wallet and opened it. There was a slit on the side.

I saw her Driver’s License. It read: Gladys Jakes-Sinclair.  She pulled out another I.D.  She gripped it, looking down at it.

“…People take secrets to the grave everyday.”

Suddenly, I was guarded. Backing up from her, I was silent.

“All this for a hundred bucks?”  Something was not right.

She said, “I have been lying to your for years.”

I swallowed hard. “About.”

“My name isn’t Gladys.”

The breath caught in my throat.  “Stay off those drugs!”

She smiled bitterly, fresh tears falling down her face. “I once hugged you so tightly, wanting to love you.”

“We just had sex, damn. What more do you want? Money? Here!” I snatched opened the top nightstand drawer, took out a hundred dollar bill and threw it at her.
She took it and ripped it in two, tossing the bills over her head.

“BITCH!  What kinda game are you playing?”

I was on my feet, chocking her.  I had laser beams in my eyes, sweat popped out of my pores, my dick swinging.

She dug her nails in my face and I backed up, blood running down my cheek, dripping from my chin.

“I got on drugs because I couldn’t do it! I couldn’t let my Mama do it to me anymore.”

I was a monster. “Do what?  BITCH SPEAK
ENGLISH!”

“My Mama isn’t a gahdamn cop!”

God! The LIES! “I knew I shouldn’t have fucked your Mama. I swear, Gladys...”

“MY NAME AIN’T GLADYS!”

“She came on to me.  Is that why you turned to drugs?  Because I slept with your Mama?”

My heart bled for her.  I was dead ass wrong. I shouldn’t have done that to her. I could just imagine how she felt when she looked in her Mama’s window and saw me freaking Janis Jakes.

Her Mama may have been overweight but she had good ass.

“Frank Sinclair, I was at your Mama’s funeral….”

I fell into a deep silence, falling into a dark abyss so fast I nearly went blind. The room spun.

I couldn’t breathe. I had to hold the dresser.

“You’re lying.”

“Remember.  The flowers on my dress. I tried to show you so much love. All I wanted to say was that I knew what you were going through. That I felt your pain.  But you angrily pushed me. I was so embarrassed. I ran over and stood by an old man. He sat next to the woman who bought me from my real mother.”

Images exploded in my head.  The funeral.  Of the little girl hugging me.  Oh, God! My WIFE WAS THE LITTLE GIRL! I remember pushing her.

The red ribbons in her long, resilient hair brought out her amazing eyes. The woman with the police uniform evilly stared at me.

“Officer Brown” was on her name tag.  What was going on here?