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He walked in the room closely behind her and turned on the light; he was curious of what she was wearing. It was barely dark outside, with a hint of light, but not enough to capture what exactly she was wearing. When he saw Malika in her new haircut and in that dress, in those high heels, he grew even more excited than he’d worked himself up to be when he planned his goodbye evening with her a few hours prior. He had it all figured out, he would set a mood and coax her into making herself up for him and he’d give her something to remember, to hold her down while he ran off and experienced life without her. She figured this much when she saw him in the sex robe; she didn’t need her gift of sight to see this coming.
“I think we need to talk, you know, chat a little bit about our feelings, what’s left.”
She passed him anyway, disregarding his arm, walking out the bedroom door and down the stairs. She went in the kitchen and he followed her.
“You look good tonight. I’m diggin’ that new hairdo.” Hooch, with his huge ego, was also focused. He’d not too long ago turned his baldhead into a shine head of which he knew she could never, ever resist. “Baby, I don’t wanna leave on a bad note. And you know I still feel for you; you’re my wife.”
I know you miss me as well, she thought to herself. But she headed to the foyer, cut through to the front room of the house and picked up the phone. She called her friend as he straddled behind her.
“Yeah, Beeny, I’m sorry; I’m not going to make it. No. Issues…Yep, those kind.”
Then she briefly explained in Pig Latin that she and Hooch had some issues so she was making a quick break for the Caribbean Islands.
Hooch was still trying to work on Malika, but her feelings for him lay dead. She moved two steps away from him and moved the phone to look back at him as if to say, “Stop it.”
Malika was about to hang up the phone when Hooch took it from her hand, “here, let me take that; I got it, baby,” he cooed, grazing her fingers.
“Listen, you’re dressed nicely and we don’t want it to go to waste… I made us lasagna, it’s in the oven, I’ll make you the garlic bread you like and we can…Enjoy our last night together.”
Malika told herself, Don’t fall for it girl, remember how he does when he rises off of you after getting his thrills; he’ll make you feel like crap. Sure, he’ll make sure you reach your peak but, after that, he’s out and you’ll wish you kept it moving.
As the car horn blew again…he just kept spinning his tangled web. When he felt the chill coming from her, he turned the heat of his game up two notches.
“I mean, baby, you never know, I mean, I can’t make you no promises, I can’t guarantee anything, but, baby, tonight could turn out good for us; give me something to smile about, you know, when I’m gone and I think about you. Let’s make it beautiful. It might bring me home,” he said, pausing when he saw her walking toward the luggage and opening the door.
“Yo, baby, where you going? What’s up?”
“I’m leaving,” she replied, nonchalantly, as she grabbed her bags and quickly headed out.
“Wait, what you mean you leaving? You not supposed to leave; I’m going, what you tryin’ ta pull? We already talked about it, Malika!”
Malika looked back at him, kept it moving and shook her head at how cocky he was, thinking he was in control of their situation, as usual. She grew a smirk on her face at the whole situation as she continued to the car.
“Stop!” He paused, “Baby, what you think you doing? I’m trying to do something here, something promising and you stepping all over it talking ‘bout leaving!” After seeing she was not going to stop and honor anything he said as she normally does, he got desperate, “I forbid you to leave! Malika, mind ya husband,” he yelled, standing by the door confident, knowing she normally grants him respect for his position as the head of the house.
She instantly turned and looked at him with an expression that could kill...

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