"I'm not insecure. I've been through way too much f**king sh*t to be insecure. I've got huge balls. But I've been humbled. That makes you grateful for every day you have."
― Drew Barrymore


Our children enjoyed their time together at the pizza parlor where we met up again. It seemed crazy to even consider the idea of going to Rick's beach house even though, he made the suggestion. And in time, I began to rationalize and dream of the posibilities all under the guise of something different. I was curious, what he was like after sex and outside of the office. There was no better opportunity than a full week together.

My desire to have fun and to feel alive helped me to see my marriage differently. I began to crave my freedom. Without the Craft Fair and the Pizza Parlor I didn't really realize how my life felt stifled, and in my mind, the way to find or feel any level of excitement was to be in the same space as Rick. More and more I didn't want to be married to Mike.

Out of the blue, things between Rick and I began to become too much, and not in a good way. A few days after our stay at his beach house, I tried to play it cool and aloof to throw off anyone who was suspecting something while Rick appeared pissed off everytime he noticed Abe or Morgan in my office. I made one attempt at calling him. He didn't answer. I texted foolishly minutes later while I was at the grocery store with my mother in law. He said he was at a country club and would call me back later. I didn't like being put to the backburner. It annoyed me but I had to remind myself that at least he responded. With everything going on between Rick and I, the two surprise visitors in my home was enough to break the camels back.

Judith and Carl.

Somehow I had overlooked the details of a conversation my daughter insisted we had in my bedroom regarding her 'best friend' coming to visit that day.

I was in the garage with my mother in law who had accompanied me on a grocery store trip. We were both hauling the groceries inside of the house. Once we were in the kitchen, I had noticed our guest sitting at the kitchen table. I nearly dropped the bags. I didn't know what to do with the look my Granny had on her face while I had all four kids wrapped around my waist. I feigned happiness in seeing them. I avoided glancing over at my husband, who was now out of rehab. The conversation we had earlier still lingered between us. One glance would only increase my dread of dealing with how unhappy and unfixable we were as a married couple.

"How did you two get here?" I had asked after I greeted each of the children by name and a light squeeze.

"Our mom!" Carl and Judith practically said at the same time. Only Judith continued. "I told mom Dad can pick us up later."

My heart dropped in my stomach, "Oh really?"

"I told mom that Dad would want us to be here with our new best friends because he really really really likes the smart lady. Dad doesn't like Ms. Carol very much. He only likes the smart lady."

"Oh dear, God," Granny responded. I watched her turn her head in the direction of the bay windows. "Ask her why her Daddy really likes the smart lady, Michonne."

I wasn't about to ask. I didn't understand how it would be beneficial. Judith answered anyway.

"Because you saved him tons of money with car insurance."

This would have been some mess if there was anyone listening for some insider trading. I sighed quietly in the recesses of my soul.

"How did you know where we lived?"

"Abigail!" Judith shouted excitedly, then calmly added as a matter of fact, "What happened was I had asked Abigail. I told my Mom there was just no way I could go another day without my best friend! We have bracelets!"

Mabel was still putting the groceries away when she remarked, "Your Mama just leave you and your brother in a home with people she doesn't know nothing about?"

Judith tipped her head as if the weight of understanding was lopsided. I could see her thoughts, consideration churning almost at the speed of an adult. But she was a child. An adult trapped in a child's body. It was eerie the look she gave me from her soft brownish-green eyes before glancing over at Mabel.

"My dad trusts the smart lady. He said so."

"Dad also told you to stop calling Ms. Michonne, the smart lady! Remember?" Carl scolded his sister. "You are the one that got Mom looking for the smart lady. We refer to her as Ms. Michonne or I am going to tell Dad on you."

Mabel paused. She placed her hand on her hip and spoke directly to our unexpected guests that provided puzzle pieces that could fit any narrative or back story.

"Well, your Mama needs to be more careful. Selective. The smart lady is about to slink off with Daddy and his kids in tow if she doesn't watch it."

"Come on, children! Let's find the game room. There are tons of games. Video games too. Dolls..." Granny hurried as much as she could with escorting the children into another area of the house.

Right then, my heart ceased to beat. I still avoided glancing over at my husband, who was no longer one hundred percent wheelchair-bound. He was using his walker since his successful discharge from rehab. Without looking, I could gauge he was going towards his bedroom. My breathing only returned upon hearing the soft closing of his door.

Mabel was quiet. The sound of cabinets opening and the closing was only muted with the return of my Granny.

"Their mother dropped them off without a second thought to who I was when I answered the door." My Granny informed. She began helping with putting the rest of the things away.

"White people are known to do that with their children," Mabel commented with her usual crassness.

"Poor parenting regardless of race, Mabel. Just because you and I wouldn't and didn't do it doesn't mean we don't have some of Us in the world that hasn't."

"You right on that, Ms. Beulah." Mabel agreed.

Beulah? Shockingly cordial.

"I think seeing her daughter and Abigail all hugged up gave her some clue it would be okay, and the boys were no better. Excited to see one another. A good feeling to know your child gets along and enjoys another child's company. I didn't know what to think, though. Abigail said she told you all about it, Michonne. I figured some things out after a bit of questioning. Marty and Carl had nothing to do with the conspiring for a fun girl's day. One thing Abigail will not do is lie."

Neither talkative Judith.

Mabel placed her hands back on her hips, pausing with the refrigerator door wide open, "I will have dinner done in about an hour, are we going to have extra mouths to consider?"

"I had already given them a snack before you got here. But, according to Judith, they will be here until they are tired of being here." Mabel and Granny laughed together at the response. Granny continued, "That Mama will have her hands full with that one. That child is a talker. You want to find out anything public or private-Ask her."

I felt ill. I needed to throw up due to a sickening nervous energy that churned in my gut, causing my thoughts to scatter everywhere. I rushed to my upstairs bathroom, where I dialed Rick's number.

Rick's anger was palpable while speaking to him in practically hushed tones. He was still at the country club with some of the board members from Go Stop. I waited for him to find a private place to speak freely.

"Lori won't stop until she figures out who I am sleeping with. It is fucking annoying!"

"Oh my God, don't, Rick! Please don't make this any more obvious."

"Who I choose to sleep with is one thing. It is a problem for me that Lori never cleared, leaving our children with you. You are the mother. She essentially left our children with strangers. I don't necessarily give a damn about anything else at this point."

"She has to know, don't you think?"

"The hell if I know! I am literally stumped by what you are telling me. I have no fucking idea."

"Rick, you can not come to my home," I had warned.

"Well, how do you expect me to get my children, Michonne?"

"I can bring them to you?" I had offered.

"Them to me, is where exactly? Where exactly should this drop off take place?"

"Your penthouse." I had suggested.

"The penthouse isn't a place Lori or my kids know about. No."

I was surprised by this disclosure. I had always assumed the penthouse was Rick's, and I couldn't imagine something of that magnitude being unknown by any spouse. I soon began to question the type of man he was, and the number of women he entertained there before me and after me.

"How about your home then?" I pushed the envelope.

He scoffed. "You want me to give you my fucking address?"

"You obviously have mine!" I snapped back.

"My soon to be ex-wife will flip the fuck out if she gets wind from Judith that I didn't pick them up? Do you know the shit I will have to endure if I DONT pick them up!?"

"Why are you yelling at me?"

His tone became more controlled. "I am fucking frustrated. I am fucking tired, but you don't seem to see that or understand."

"What are you talking about?"

"You are too busy for me, Michonne, but yet you have time in your busy schedule to entertain Morgan and Abe."

"Strictly business." I couldn't believe the direction our conversation was leading.

"What's really going on when you are home?"

"I have a family, Rick."

He mumbled, "Does that mean working things out with your husband?"

"This is coming from the same man that still sleeps in his marital bed?"

"I waited all night for you to show up. I get news from Morgan that you were with him at the office until late. I really don't know, which is pissing me off more right now. So tell me, how do you want to do this, Michonne? When I arrive, should I get out and ring the doorbell or..."

He ended up ringing the damn doorbell earlier than expected. Rick was inside my home. Greeted by my Granny and shaking hands with my husband.

There I was frozen in the ladies' room. I was in the last stall. Undetected. I recognized Jessies' voice. I had no idea who she was speaking to. Only later, I found out it was Beth, a secretary from the fifth floor.

"Yeah, Mr. Grimes has been acting pretty grumpy." She said.

"I wonder why?" The unknown voice questioned.

"Right now, his home life is bleeding into the office, and it is a wound I want to so badly help him with if given a chance." Jessie sighed dreamily.

"What do you mean?"

"I am not only his executive assistant, but I am also his unofficial babysitter. This happens whenever his wife makes her unannounced visits to drop their children off. Honestly, I smell a divorce. He is no longer wearing his wedding band. He no longer mentions her in passing."

"Really?"

"Greenlight, for me!" Jessie's voice squealed.

"Mr. Grimes is so hot."

"Isn't he?! I can't believe how everything is falling into place. With my divorce finalized, the thought of Mr. Grimes taking steps to end his marriage so we can officially be together is so thrilling. Can the stars align any better? Oh my God!" Jessie paused for a second before continuing, "There was just no way I was going to cheat on my husband, and I had told him as much a year ago. It is good to know, heartwarming actually, that he respected his vows to do the same. He, too, waited until we were both free."

"Well, what about the rumor regarding him and the new attorney?"

"Honey, she has nothing on me!"

"So nothing is going on between them?"

"Nothing I could put my eyes on, but I do hope his wife was able to!" Jessie laughed. "Anyway, he has asked me to attend a few business seminars. I am hoping it is code for getting to know each other much better. You know what I mean?"

Upon hearing this information, it made me wonder if I were just a placeholder. And if so... I had tried to convince myself there was nothing between Rick and I, outside of great sexual chemistry and a much-needed orgasm.

So what if I met Rick's children? So what if we had spent time together at his beach house? So what if he were leaving his marriage to be with Jessie? So what?

I was pissed!

I had to fight the urge to destroy his penthouse once I realized he was finally back from wherever the hell he had gone for two weeks. I parked my car next to his Bentley. I thought better in keying his car. Instead, I chose to confront him. The thought of him fucking Jessie anywhere in that penthouse had me insanely angry.

Upon entry seeing none of those things, I lashed out. I wasn't myself, and Rick's words were like ice-cold water, snapping me back to reality. I believed every word he spoke, and it may have been due to his complete openness regarding having never slept with Jessie. Or, it could have been how raw and intense our encounters had been where everything paled. I was embarrassed that I allowed my emotions to take over. I felt that I just fucked everything up due to being embarrassingly insecure and overly infatuated with my boss. I wanted him to come after me. To stop me. To chase me. To beg me back inside the penthouse. To kiss me. Strip me of my clothes. Hold my nude body upon his bed while he nip at my tits and slowly plow his fingers into the wet swollen folds of my sex. He did neither of those things.

Why do I feel like we broke up?

Rick had asked. I didn't know how to respond to his question when he had called me later that night. I remained silent in hopes that my tears wouldn't be revealed by any unexpected quavering in my voice. I was vulnerable and obviously a glutton for punishment. I found it difficult to hang up.

"I don't know how to go about this, Michonne. I'm not sure if we are on the same page or not or if going straight into another relationship is the wisest thing for either of us...Are we moving too fast? What is the right speed to take this? What are your expectations of me?...I need to consider and really think about what are my expectations of you...I am kind of embarrassed to admit, I don't like seeing you with other men. I have to reflect on what is it in me or what is it about you that cause me to feel so intensely insecure..." After a brief silence he asked, "Seriously, Michonne, what are your expectations of me?"

"I want to believe you would never hurt me." Those were the last words I had shared with him before I hung up.

Rick made his eventual return to the building a week later. My heart twisted in my gut upon spying him in his office with his door open and Jessie going inside with her laptop and notepad. I had contemplated every scenario of moving on that the envelope on my desk didn't register for a long while as I thought of nothing but him and the butterflies that wouldn't seem to die. I took a deep breath and spied the contents. Paris. STD free. I no longer had a sinking sense of fear regarding how to navigate or move forward. I was well aware I had fallen in love with him because I was willing to risk it all.