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Authors: Mahaughani Fiyah

Lying Lips (13 page)

BOOK: Lying Lips
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I could not believe my ears. He was coming with me. How could I not have known that? How could I not have seen that coming? I was slipping. Not staying on top of my game. I needed to change that. Asanti had to stay here and I had to figure out a way to ensure that he did.

“Baby,” I began, having no idea what in the world I would say. He simply looked at me. “Baby,” I started again. Then my mind went blank. Completely blank. I needed another lie. I needed something to say that would make Asanti stay put.

Why not go for the truth? The truth wrapped in the midst of lies.

“I want you to stay here. I need you to stay here.” That was the truth.

“Why?” He asked simply. So simply that it scared the hell out of me.

“Because I will feel terrible if you leave your company just to cater to me. You need to be here right now.” That was truth also.

“I’ll only be here if you are here.”

“Asanti your company needs you now. I’ll be okay.” Even more truth.

He stared at me again. Hard. “You’re my wife. You’re not feeling well. Where you go, I go.”

Damn!

This wasn’t going quite how I expected it to go.

What now?

Start lying!

“Asanti,” I began with a pleading look on my face, a look that I hoped would convince him to stay, “I will never be able to rest if I know that I’m the reason you’ve abandoned your job, your company. You’re needed here. All you’ll be doing in New Orleans is babysitting me.”

Half truth, half lie.

I definitely would not be able to rest if he was in New Orleans, but not because I gave a damn about his job, which I did. But I’d be more concerned with keeping him away from my real family, too concerned with that to get any rest at all.

He was quiet as he considered.

“As you said, I need mental rest as well as physical rest. With you in New Orleans I’ll get the physical but the mental won’t happen.”

Still he was quiet.

I needed more.

“Asanti, I love you as much as you love me, and I worry about you the same way you worry about me. Knowing that you were in my hometown with me as you worried about what was going on here would torture me and I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything but that.”

Half truth. I did love him, but my concern wouldn’t be with him and his company. It would be with him discovering my secret, finding out my lies.

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Legaci. I can take care of everything from New Orleans and I can also keep an eye on you.”

Damn! This was harder than I thought.

“Just because you don’t want me to worry about you doesn’t mean I won’t.” Now I had to pull out the big guns. “You’re my husband Asanti, I will worry if you’re not here taking care of what means the world to you, what you once told me you loved to the point that you’d rather be doing nothing else.”

He started to speak then closed his mouth. A counterargument escaped him.

“You have a valid point. A very valid point.”

Bam!

“So you’ll stay here while I go there?”

“No.” Damn, damn, damn! “But I’ll compromise,” he told me with a smile as I wondered what the compromise was.

“And how will you do that?”

“I’ll send you off tomorrow morning alone and I’ll meet you there three days from now. A compromise.”

I considered. Really considered. Could I get a house for us to live in and make it look like my home in the three days I was supposed to be resting. I would have to.

So I would make a way to do it.

“Okay,” was all I said.

“But Legaci Styles,” he said as he grabbed both of my hands, “you have to promise me you will take excellent care of my wife until I get there.”

“I will,” I said with a smile. “I’ll keep absolutely still and stay in bed until you arrive.”

That was a complete lie.

 

The minute I landed in New Orleans the next day I was on the move. The first thing I did was call Asanti to assure him that I had made it to the city safely, that I was okay, and that I was on my way home to get in bed and rest. The next thing I did was immediately take a cab to my real home where I lived with real family.

I knew no one would be there when I arrived because the kids were at school and Ashton was at work.

I was so wrong.

The minute I stepped through the door, Ashton was on me like white on rice.

“Hello, Mrs.
Bentencourt,
” he said as he stepped to me. “Glad you could make it home.”

He seemed cold. Distant. That was new behavior for him.

“Hi Ashton. I’m glad to be home.”

“What does your
job
have to say about you being here?” He asked with disdain in his voice.

Huh?

My
job
?

What the hell was he talking about?

Then it hit me.
My job
. I’d told him that I was doing an undercover story with some dangerous people. And I’d told him this before I’d gotten sick. I’d hidden lies inside of the truth. Truth inside of lies. Then I had gotten sick and forgotten everything. I needed to get it together and quickly before I gave myself away.

How could I forget my alibi?

The thing that would keep me afloat until I could get rid of Asanti.

“They’re taking care of business that’s going to keep them occupied for the next few days. It had nothing to do with the story I’m trying to get so I decided to get out of there and come home. I missed my family.”

Ashton said nothing. Only looked at me as if he was trying to see the truth in me because he didn’t believe my words. Instantly I was offended. Twenty-five years and suddenly he didn’t trust me. But I had to control that anger and acknowledge that over the last few weeks I had done everything I could to betray that trust. I’d made it so that he couldn’t, didn’t trust me.

So I stared at him.

And tried to understand.

“Did you really?” He posed the question with ice in his voice.

“Yes, I did.” That was the truth. “I really did.”

“London, we need to talk. Right now.”

“O-kaaay,” I said cautiously. I had no idea what was coming. Wasn’t ready to play hardball with Ashton when I had so much to handle with Asanti.

“But just because we need to talk right now doesn’t mean I have the time to do it right now.” I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I wasn’t quite ready for husband number one. I needed to get husband number two out of the way before I could do that. “Will you be home tonight?”

When did my husband have to start asking me when I would be home? That had never been an issue before, he always knew because I always kept him updated on everything I did, every move I made. Things had changed a lot in the past five weeks.

“Yes,” I’ll be home tonight,” I promised him and had every intention of making sure those words were truth.

“I’ll talk to you then. I love you, London,” he said as he grabbed his briefcase and walked out of the door without a goodbye.

He hadn’t so much as touched me since I’d walked into our home.

If things kept up like that, our marriage would be going down the drain fast.

But I had no time to worry about that. I had to find a house to rent and fix up. I had to make it appear that I’d been living in that house most of my life and I had only three days to do it.

Damn!

Then my phone rang.

The phone Asanti bought me.

“Hello.”

“Are you home and are you in bed?” He was straight to the point.

“Yes, I’m home, and no I’m not in bed yet. I just walked through the door. However, I just dropped my bags, I’m heading for the shower and as soon as I’m done, I’ll slip into my bed clothes and hit the sack.”

“That’s what I want to hear. How are you feeling?”

“A little jet lagged and very tired. I think I’ll be sleeping most of today away.” Of course that was a lie.

“Good. Maybe you should take one of the pills Dr. McGill prescribed for you. It’ll help you sleep
and
it’ll make sure you stay in bed.”

That was a damn good idea in theory and as it pertained to the alibi I would need. But in reality, with all of the action I needed to take, that pill was out of the question.

“That’s a good idea, baby. I’ll do just that as soon as I get out of the shower,” I replied innocently.

Those pills would make things so easy for me. I could handle my business, not answer the phone when Asanti called, and blame the lack of communication on the fact that the pills knocked me out.

Pure genius.

“Alright, sweetheart. I miss you already,” he said in that sexy way he had of talking to me.

Instantly I was hot in the twat. I smiled shyly even though he couldn’t see me. “I miss you too.”

“And I love you,” Asanti said to me just as Ashton walked back into the house, stopped directly in front of me, and stared. Almost as if he was daring me to respond in kind.

My first husband was now staring in my face while my second husband waited on the phone for me to express my love for him. My first husband was looking at me like he knew about my other husband and like he knew what that husband wanted me to say. And almost as if he dared me to say it.

What the hell was I going to do?

“Ditto” I said to Asanti to avoid hurting Ashton, the man I shared love, life, and children with.

“Talk to you later, and take care of my wife,” came Asanti’s reply.

He didn’t seem to notice any discomfort in my voice.

Thank goodness.

But Ashton did. He was less than a foot away from me.

“Okay, bye,” was all I said to Asanti while I stared at Ashton.

I had just told one husband that I loved him on the slick while the other husband was standing right in my face.

How the hell did I get here?

And how the hell was I going to get out?

“I just came in to get my phone,” Ashton said as he reached on the table by the door and picked up the device laying there. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Come on Ashton,” I began when he headed toward the door with hurt and anger in his eyes. “It’s just my job.”

“You’ve been home for all of three seconds, home to spend time with the family you missed, as you put it, and already you’re taking calls from your job? I hadn’t been out of the door for more than a minute, London.”

“The house is empty. It’s not like I took time away from you and the kids to take the call.”

“Speaking of that call, when and where did you get a new phone?”

I was stunned. I’d forgotten Asanti had bought me a personal phone. He was the only one with that number, when that phone rang he wanted me to know it was him and he fully expected me to answer.

“The job. All a part of my cover. It’s a new phone under an assumed name.” I had to lie.

“And you can answer calls on that phone but when your kids and I are calling the other phone, you can’t answer those calls.” He was seriously pissed and I had no idea how to handle this new, angry Ashton.

“What do you want me to say, Ashton? It’s my job, baby.”

But my husband said nothing. He simply placed his phone in his pocket and walked out of the door, slamming it behind him as he did so.

My lies were getting in the way of my family life. I was losing the husband I had every intention of keeping. I had to please both men and do my best to only hurt one. But my first husband had just watched me, and unknowingly heard me, tell another man that I loved him.

I was now hurting Ashton.

The situation had gotten a little out of control and had just gone from bad to worse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

 

As soon as I watched Ashton pull out of our driveway, I was on the move. I raced to the computer in my office and began looking for a place to rent. A place where I could tell Asanti I lived. We lived.

So I looked.

And looked.

And looked.

Until I got a headache.

Then I got an idea. My husband, the first one, was an architect. He designed property. And owned lots of the property he designed. Lots of unique property. Maybe I could convince him to give me a place to use for my fake home, for the undercover story. That way he could always know where I was and still keep an eye on me.

Or so he would think.

It was selfish of me to want to use Ashton like that. And risky. But it was a way to pull Ashton into the fold more. A way to begin rebuilding the lines of trust that I had destroyed. Obliterated. I was just about to call Ashton when I heard a key turn in the door. Then I heard footsteps heading toward my office.

There stood my son, Armani.

He just looked at me.

And looked at me.

Then he practically ran to me and gave me a hug.

Immediately I began to cry. “I’m so sorry, baby. So, so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” he said as he embraced me. That was more than his father had done. “Dad explained to us about your job. He told us everything.”

My son sounded so grown. So much like a man. When did he grow up? Had I not been so busy lying, playing games, and protecting my own ass over the last five weeks I would have known.

“Still Armani,” I said as I lifted my head from his shoulder and looked him in the eyes, “my first priority should be to my family and lately it’s been to the job.”

He said nothing.

Only looked at me.

As if he understood.

“How long will you be home this time?” He wanted to know.

That question stung. As if he’d asked it with malicious intent, but I knew he hadn’t. He simply wanted to know how much time he had with his mother before she ran off to her job again.

Or in reality, before she ran off and played wife to another man.

How that thought hurt me.

“I’ve got a few days,” I informed him just as my baby girl, Amaya, came running through the door.

“Mommyyyy!” She screamed and ran toward me. “Mommy!” She screamed again as she dove into my arms. “I missed you so much,” she told me as she doused my face with kisses.

“Oh, baby, I missed you too!” I was in the midst of saying when my oldest child, Allegra, walked in.

“You sure don’t act like it,” was Allegra’s welcome to me.

Where had that attitude come from?

“Why do you say that, Allegra?” I asked as I reached out my hand for her. She stood in the doorway to my office and didn’t move.

My daughter didn’t even bother to answer me. She just stood there glaring at me. Apparently Ashton had told them all what I was supposed to be doing. And apparently Allegra didn’t like it. Now what?

I had to find a way to get rid of Asanti. This couldn’t mess with my family. Couldn’t affect my kids any more than it already had.

Suddenly I started to feel dizzy again.

Nauseated.

Hot.

I took a few deep breaths.

Tried to hide the fact that I was trembling.

“Mommy, are you alright?” I heard Amaya ask me, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer her.

The doctor was right. I was exhausted and stressed out. I needed rest.

“I’m fine, baby,” I spoke barely above a whisper.

“No, you’re not,” Armani informed me. “You’re sick.”

“No, I’m okay.”

It was at that moment that Allegra finally decided to speak.

“Where have you been, Mother?” She asked me harshly.

I had no idea what to say to her, how to answer her. Should I tell them the truth? Could they handle the truth? How much of my lie had their father told them?

“I’ve been working,” I said slowly, as slowly as I breathed.  “Working really hard.”

“And putting your life in danger!” Allegra said. “I know where you’ve been. I know what you’ve been doing,” she said angrily.

My daughter was now shaking as well, but hers was from anger not illness.

And when did she start calling me Mother?

“What have I been doing, Allegra?”

I decided to let them speak. To let them volunteer information. To get the answers I needed from them rather than say too much and cause more problems than were already present.

“You know as well as I do, and you should be ashamed of yourself!” My eldest daughter, eldest child, was heated. “How could you not care about how we might feel if something happ—“

Then Ashton walked in.

“Allegra, that’s enough!”

His reprimand shocked all of us. Ashton was a very even tempered man. The fact that he spoke firmly to Allegra shocked us all.

“Why should I stop it? Why aren’t you telling her to stop it, Daddy?” Allegra seemed on the verge of tears.

“Allegra, what are you talking about? Telling her to stop what?” Ashton asked her calmly, slowly. He seemed as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

“You know what I’m talking about. The story, Daddy,” she said as she looked to him with pleading eyes. “The reason she’s not home anymore. The reason she pulls disappearing acts, leaves us worrying about her, and doesn’t answer the phone when we call.”

“Allegra, what are you saying?” He asked her slowly, demanding the straight truth.

Then it hit me.

He hadn’t told them.

I’d assumed he had, but Ashton hadn’t said a word to our kids about my undercover work.

So what
was
Allegra talking about? Did she know? And if so, how did she find out?

“I’m saying that I heard her on the phone the last time you talked to her,” our oldest child explained in a deadly voice. “I heard what she’s doing. I know!” Allegra was on the verge of shouting.

“Baby,” I began, but I had no idea what to say. My daughter had heard my words. She knew what I’d said to her father. She was only seventeen. And she’d heard me tell her father that I was undercover, that I was supposedly in the presence of dangerous people.

She’d heard her father tell me that I could lose my life if I wasn’t careful enough!

Her world had to be falling apart.

Had to be turning upside down.

And all because of me.

My breathing became really labored.

How was she dealing with that? With the thought of possibly losing a parent? She was too young to be dealing with that. I had to make it so that she wasn’t dealing with that. I looked to my other two kids, they were looking from one of us to the other waiting for an answer. I didn’t want them dealing with that either.

Not now.

Not yet.

Not ever.

I couldn’t hurt them like that.

I needed to say something to fix the situation. I tried to speak, but a lump formed in my throat. I tried to step forward to reach Allegra, to somehow comfort her. But the darkness returned, and it was enveloping me. I became weak. Dizzy. I reached out for something, someone.

I felt myself stumble. Felt someone grab me. Heard shouts and orders being given. Then all was dark.

I had passed out again.

 

When I woke I had no idea where I was or how much time had gone by. I looked around, familiarized myself with my environment, and then it came back to me in bits. Pieces. I knew that I was in my bedroom, in my bed. The bed I shared with my first husband.

I knew that Ashton was kneeling beside the bed next to me. Praying. Watching over me. Holding my hand. Asking God to restore me. Beyond that, I had no other memory.

“Thank God you’re okay,” he said when he saw my eyes open. Then he pulled me to him in a tight embrace.

“What happened?” I asked him as I looked around and wondered how I got in my current position.

The same position I’d been in just the day before with Asanti.

“You fainted,” he said as he released me and backed up enough to get a better look at me.

“I did
what
?” I asked, the shock settling into my chest. Never in my life had I ever passed out. I was not one of those fragile women. I was strong and independent. Tough as nails and very hard to crack. And I had passed out. Several times in the last week. Me. London Legaci Carmichael Bentencourt Styles “How?”

“Allegra confronted you. You were talking to us, you took a few steps forward and the next thing we know I was stopping you from hitting the floor.”


In front of the children
?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Are they okay, Ashton?” Now I was deeply concerned.

And I remembered everything.

My actions were causing stress that was affecting me physically. Negatively. And in front of my children. Seeing their mother fall out in front of their very eyes was sure to have scarred them in some way. I was struggling with the fact that now my actions were no longer just affecting me. It was hard to accept that they were also affecting those I loved most in the world. My children. I needed to get a hold on my situation and keep my kids sheltered from everything for as long as possible.

“They’re fine,” He said soothingly. “I sent them to bed although I know there is no way that they’re asleep.”

“Sent them to bed?” I was really confused, Hadn’t they just gotten home from school? “What time is it?”

“Shortly after midnight?”

“Midnight?” I asked incredulously “The last time I remember was about four p.m.”

“You’ve been out for about eight hours, London,” he said quietly.

I was stunned. I was scared. I was tired. I had lost a large block of time again. Less than when I was with Asanti, but still a large block.

“I need to see them. I need them to see that I’m okay,” I rushed out.

“Shhh,” he started when he saw that I was becoming upset. “I’ll get them for you.”

“Please,” was all I could say.

“Mommmmyyyyyy!” Amaya yelled a few seconds later as she ran into the room and jumped on the bed to get to me.

Before I could reach out my arms to embrace her, my other two kids were wrapped around me as well.

This was my family.

This was where I belonged.

I had to get rid of Asanti.

“What’s going on with you, Mom?” My son questioned me with authority. It seemed that he had grown so much in the span of a few weeks.

“I’m just—” I started to say.

“Tired,” Ashton answered for me. “She’s exhausted.” He spoke lovingly. “I should have noticed that the second you came home,” he said as he simply stared at me while I sat surrounded by his children.  He looked remorseful. Sorrowful.

I felt like dirt, the guilt had me wanting to squirm, but I didn’t. I held his gaze until I was too uncomfortable to do so any longer. Then I looked away. He had nothing to be sorry for. I had everything to be sorry for.

I was the liar.

The cheater.

The bigamist.

“What happened to you, Mommy?” I was saved by a question from my youngest child.

But that was just as bad.

What would I do? How would I answer her? I couldn’t tell them that I was exhausted, stressed out and sick because I’d been making up lies and running all over the U.S. as I played with the love and affections of another man. As I deceived them as well.

So what lie would I use to cover the fact that I was in deep shit?

I was mere seconds away from doing what I had never in my life done. Lie to my children. As I’d lied to their father.

This was going to plague me for years to come.

“What happened is not important right now,” Ashton stepped in. Saved me from telling a fallacy to my children. At least for the time being. “Your mother needs her rest. Tomorrow or when she is feeling up to it, she’ll talk to us. But for now, we all need to step away from Mommy and give her some breathing room and some time to rest.”

“But Dadd—” Allegra began.

“No but’s, Allegra,” he looked at her firmly. “Your mother needs rest.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she obediently replied. Then she looked over at me. She looked remorseful as well. Like she wished she could take back every word she’d said to me.

And that made me feel terrible.

“Okay guys, now that you know Mom is okay, it’s time for you three to go to bed.
Really
go to bed,” he stressed. “You have school tomorrow.”

“But the doctor said she wasn’t okay, Daddy,” Amaya began, “he said she was exhausted and needed rest or she’ll be worse.”

“Bed,” was all Ashton said.

BOOK: Lying Lips
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