Millionaire Wives Club (33 page)

“I don’t give a damn about those cameras anymore. Fuck it.”

“Zoom in, goddammit!” Bridget yelled at Carl. “Get all in their faces with the camera.”

“Where you been all night, Milan? Matter of fact, where you been for the last three weeks?”

“Are you stalking me?” Milan asked nervously.

“Answer my question!”

“I was working!” she screamed. “Do you see what I have on?” She pulled at her nurse’s uniform. “And, furthermore, I’m tired, Knott. Did you think I was going to lie and wait in hell forever? No, I’m done.”

“I can’t believe you gon’ move out on me, Milan. On me?”

“What difference does it make, you didn’t want me! Every time I turned around it was Evan this and Evan that. Evan doesn’t give a fuck about you, I do. I love you. That bitch used you. You ain’t shit in her fuckin’ life.”

“It wasn’t about Evan!” he yelled as he stood to his feet. “It was about my daughter. But you’re too fuckin’ selfish to understand that. I’ve been trying to get shit straight so that I could be with you. So that I could be the man you needed me to be.”

“I laid there and waited for you for two fuckin’ weeks and you never called me, not even once. How long did you think I was supposed to be nothin’ in your life? I was fuckin’ you every night, and every day you were home with that bitch!”

“Oh…my…God…,” Bridget said, stunned. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands as if in prayer. “Thank You for this Emmy.” She opened her eyes and looked around the room. “I’d like to thank the Academy.”

“You damn right, that’s my wife and my daughter, and I don’t have to apologize to you for being with my family. You should’ve accepted your fuckin’ position instead of trying to be in competition. I swear to God, I’m glad I never married your ass.”

As soon as Kendu said that, they both felt how fucked up it was. Kendu stood quietly and Milan felt her body crumbling to pieces. She stumbled out of her spot a little and then without warning she reared her hand back and with all her might she slapped him so hard that a spritz of spit flew from the center of Kendu’s mouth.

Tears blinded Milan, and for a moment she started breathing as if she were asthmatic. “I don’t believe you just said that to me,” she said, as if finally starting to process everything they’d been through.

“Milan.” Kendu reached for her hand and she snatched it back. “Wait, baby, we need to talk about this.”

“Talk about this?” She laughed in clear disbelief. “Talk about what?” She wiped her eyes.

“Us.”

“There’s no us. We’re done. Go home to your family.”

“Milan—” He reached for her again.

“I swear to God, if you touch me again, I’ma smack the shit out of you.”

“Don’t be like this.” He walked closer to her.

“Fuck you, Kendu. Really.” Milan pushed him in his chest. “You think I love you enough to accept anything? You really think that Evan and Aiyanna are your family? You just don’t know. Let’s talk about this. So you really wanna talk? You really wanna talk to me? Okay, let’s talk about how your daughter ain’t yours. Let’s talk about how you’re standing here and you look like the dumbest motherfucker in the world to me right now.”

“What you say about my daughter?”

“That’s not your fuckin’ kid. You couldn’t even give her blood, and you know why? Because you’re not her damn daddy. Evan played the shit out your ass, and from where I’m standing you asked for the shit!”

“Don’t say that,” he said quietly. “Why would you say some shit like that?”

“Because it’s true!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Evan doesn’t give a damn about you. She doesn’t know who that damn child’s daddy is, but I can tell you one thing, I betchu she knows who the fuck ain’t her damn daddy.”

“Milan,” Kendu said, backing her into a corner. She could see the pain in his eyes. And before she could wonder what it would be like to witness Kendu’s strength folding to kryptonite, tears were rolling down his cheeks. He spoke quietly again, “So you knew and you didn’t say anything to me?”

“It wasn’t my place.”

“It wasn’t your place,” he said more to himself than to her. “It wasn’t your place. Everybody knew but me. What, y’all were laughing at me? Look at this fool. You hate me that much, Milan?”

“Hate you?” She blinked. “Me loving you is what has me standing here.”

“Yeah … I’m sure.”

“Knott.” She reached for him.

He took a step back. “Nah, it’s cool … I got this. Just give me a minute.” And he stormed out the door.

Milan knew she’d messed up, and she knew he was too calm not to be ready to kill Evan. “Knott!”

Milan ran after him and Bridget yelled, “Wait!” “The van is parked outside. You can ride with us!”

“Evan!” Kendu yelled, bolting into the house, swinging the front door so wildly that he rattled the frame. “Evan!” He looked in the living room and she wasn’t there. “Evan!” He screamed as he ran down the corridor and into the kitchen, where he unwittingly bumped into her, causing her to spill the bottle of bleach and the cup of hot oatmeal in her hands.

“What the fuck is that?” Kendu screamed. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Nothing,” Evan said nervously, “I was just—just—nothing.”

Kendu paused and then snapped, “Were you going to feed her this? Have you been making her sick?”

“Are you crazy?” Evan yelled. “Why would you accuse me of some shit like that!” She pushed him in his chest and he smacked her across the face.

“I’ve had enough of you!” Kendu grabbed Evan by her collar. “You always fuckin’ tryin’ me. I should choke the shit out of you!”

“Do it!” Evan held the side of her face. “Do it.”

“I will.” Kendu sneered. “Right after you tell me this.” He grabbed Evan roughly by her chin and lifted her off the floor by her neck, the bleach that had splashed against his chest steadily turning his black hoodie white. “And don’t fuckin’ lie to me. Is Aiyanna mine?”

Evan struggled to move her head, but there was no way she could speak with Kendu gripping her by the neck.

“Kendu!” Milan ran into the kitchen and over to him. “Please stop.”

“Catch that angle, Carl,” Bridget said. “This is one helluva season finale.”

“Bridget,” Carl said, “this is a little rough. I think maybe we need to call the police.”

“Just do your job!”

Kendu was oblivious to the conversation going on around him. He pressed his fingers deeply into Evan’s cheeks. “I asked you a question!”

“Let her go!” Milan pushed him. “You gon’ kill her!”

“Answer my fuckin’ question,” Kendu spat.

“Daddy!” Aiyanna came running out of her room. “Why are you screaming like that?”

“Go in your room!” he yelled at Aiyanna, never taking his eyes from the child’s mother. He could see in Evan’s eyes that her age-old lie had exploded in her face. Now he was certain he had to kill her, and as if death were in the palm of his hand, Kendu reared back and smacked Evan so hard that she slid across the room and hit her head on the front door.

“Daddy!” Aiyanna screamed. “Don’t hurt my mommy!” She threw her small body on Evan.

Kendu picked Aiyanna up, and as he was moving her out of the way Evan was able to crawl outside. She struggled to stand up, and everyone followed her out onto the front lawn. She watched Milan beg and plead with Kendu to stop. Milan grabbed his hands and looked into his face. “Stop it, please,” she spoke quietly, calmly, and with a voice that radiated
I love you
a thousand times. Evan couldn’t believe what was unfolding before her eyes. She charged toward Milan, but when Kendu blocked her path, it was as if she’d hit a brick wall.

“You better not touch her,” he said.

“Oh…my…God!” Evan screamed. “Oh…my…God!” She looked at Kendu and squinted her eyes. “You want this bitch? After everything I did to keep you loving me, you’ve been using me?”

“Is Aiyanna my child?”

“Hell no,” Evan spat with venomous rage, “she ain’t yours, motherfucker!”

“Don’t say that, Mommy!” Aiyanna ran over to her and screamed. “Don’t say that about my daddy!”

“He ain’t your fuckin’ daddy. You ain’t related to this motherless bitch! This bastard’s a stranger!” She took a step back, and all the sanity she’d felt leaving was finally gone. All she could see was kicking Kendu’s ass and running over him and this bitch Milan.

Evan hopped in her fingerprint-activated Mercedes, revved the engine, and whipped her car in the direction of Kendu.

“Mommy!” Aiyanna screamed, running in front of her father. Evan’s brakes screeched as she tried to stop, but it was too late. Aiyanna was thrown into the air and landed on the hood of the car.

“Aiyanna!” Kendu yelled as he ran over to her, and everyone on the estate started to panic.

“I told you we needed to call the police!” Carl screamed. “This isn’t right. It’s gone too far.”

Evan crouched to her knees. She could hear Kendu yelling and screaming, “No … not my baby,” and she could hear people buzzing around her, but she couldn’t make out what exactly they were saying.

She wasn’t sure why the police were there, when they needed an ambulance for Aiyanna. The problem was relating that to somebody… because she couldn’t speak … but then again … someone must’ve read her mind, because the ambulance arrived and Aiyanna was carefully placed on the stretcher. Then the police lifted Evan from the ground and placed her in handcuffs.

T
he moon’s reflection bathed Evan’s exposed back as she stood in the center of the bamboo floor, dressed in a violet evening gown. Jaise had bailed her out of jail, and she’d been home for two days contemplating what she needed to do and where her life should go from here.

Her bare feet crackled as she walked through the bits of broken and crushed glass from the window she’d pushed her arm through in an effort to chase away the dark-haired phantom who called her name all night.

She kept her right shoulder hunched forward as she felt the sea’s breeze blowing against her skin and raising the hair on the back of her neck.

Everything haunted her, from the seagulls flying above to the echoing of her own voice. And everything haunted her because it was all finished. Everything: the show, her marriage, her ability to be God to Aiyanna and to control Kendu’s emotions, the limelight, the money … her life … everything. Everything that she needed to use to hide from who she really was—it was over. All she had left were the whispers in her head, calling her out to sea.

And she had to go—no two ways about it; she had to answer Poseidon’s call. But first she had to let these motherfuckers know. Evan ran her hands through her wild and untamed hair, brushing it from her shoulders so that it fell down her back. She splashed on some Chanel No. 5 and applied lipstick from her chin to her upper lip. She brushed both sides of her face with blush, and with dark eyeliner she painted half of her eyelids. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw majesty. She couldn’t be more beautiful, and everyone watching her would know. She flicked the video camera on, stood back, and began to speak. “I am a survivor, and my life isn’t finished until I say it is. Fuck the fat lady, I have to sing. I have loved every one of you to death. My daughter, my man, my life… and what have I gotten in return? Silence. Gloom. Hell. I have always wanted a reason to genuinely smile, to feel good about life, and yet every day and every step of the way it was a tussle. So I pray you all understand why I have to make my own way. I don’t know where I’m going, all I know … is where I’ve come from.”

Evan quietly stepped away from the camera. She gathered the beaded hem of her long and flowing gown, swept it over her forearm, and walked out to the back of the estate. The surface of the earth beneath her feet changed from grass to sand, to bits of rock … to water. A smile lit up her face as a thought entered her mind: She would touch the moon.

As she started on her journey the water rose around her, and Evan began to slowly disappear into the night. She closed her eyes and somewhere in the midst of darkness the chariots came, the limelight faded, and the curtain fell.

M
illionaire Wives Club
brought the station its highest ratings ever. The show was an instant hit, the women were all reality stars, and it seemed as if everyone in America had an opinion about their lives, making this one of the most anticipated reunion shows ever.

Jaise took a seat on one side of the host and crossed her legs. She sat alone on a blue chenille sofa across from Milan and Chaunci, who sat together on the adjacent sofa.

“Welcome,” the blond host with the too-bright highlights said to the camera and the live audience. “My name is Don McBride, and we have quite a show planned for you today,” he said, holding a stack of blue index cards in his hand. “We are here with our Millionaire Wives to catch up on their lives.” Don sat down. “So ladies”—he nodded his head at them respectively—“Jaise, Chaunci, Milan, I think we should start by saying that we are dedicating this show to Evan. As some of you may know,” he said, looking toward the camera, “Evan passed away a few weeks before the first episode aired.”

Jaise wiped her eyes, while Milan swallowed the guilt in her
throat, and Chaunci shook her head in sorrow. “She was a great part of the cast,” Don said, “and she is definitely missed.”

The studio went dim for a moment as a large photo of Evan appeared in the background. After a few minutes of silence, Don tried to get the show back on track. “So,” Don said, clapping his hands together, “on a brighter note, we have our first question.” He looked at Jaise. “Taylor, from Union, New Jersey, wants to know what’s going on with you, Jaise. She said that she related to your life and wants an update.”

Jaise shot a Barbie-doll smile at the camera. “Thank you for your question, Taylor. It’s good to get the niceness out of the way first,” Jaise said as she flicked her hand, showing off her pear-shaped diamond engagement ring and matching wedding band, “because then we can get to what the hell I’ve been wanting to say for the last few weeks. Now about me.” She pointed to her chest. “I’m married, my husband is stankin’ rich, thank you very much. We were married last month on a small island he owns in the Bahamas. Jabril has a son, Jabril Jr., or my little J.J., as I call him. Jabril is also a straight-A student and he wants to attend Morehouse in the fall. Now”—she looked at Milan—“on to lowering the boom on your ass.”