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Never Gonna Be Wifey
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Never Gonna Be Wifey:
Renaissance Collection
Racquel Williams
www.urbanbooks.net
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Urban Books, LLC
300 Farmingdale Road, NY-Route 109
Farmingdale, NY 11735
Never Gonna Be Wifey: Renaissance Collection
Copyright © 2018 Racquel Williams
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.
ISBN: 978-1-9458-5584-9
eISBN 13: 978-1-945855-85-6
eISBN 10: 1-945855-85-1
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, charac-ters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
Distributed by Kensington Publishing Corp. Submit
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Dedication
I dedicate this book to my three sons: Malik, Jehmel, and Zahir. Words can never explain the love I feel for all three of you. I am blessed to be able to be on this journey and to be able to watch y’all grow up. I love you guys with everything in me. I pray Allah continues to bless and protect my greatest treasures.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, I give all praises to Allah. Without him, none of this would be possible. I am forever grateful and definitely blessed.
To my mom Rosa, thank you for being a rock in my life and also the lives of my boys.
To my other half Carlo, you made it possible for me to focus on being a full-time writer. You are the force behind the scene. Thank you.
To my sister Papaya, blood couldn’t make us any closer. Thanks for sticking with me through the laughter and the tears. I love you.
To Stacey Thomas, Ebonee Abbey, Charmaine Galloway, I can’t thank you guys enough, but please know I appreciate the love and support. I am forever grateful.
To Ambria Davis, I called you my little sister because you are just that. I am happy that our path crossed, and we are able to weather this storm together.
To Rita and Charles King, two of my biggest supporters, I appreciate the love that you guys have shown me.
To Kiera Northington, Smith Sharlene, and Chyta Curry, thank you, ladies, for the long talks and words of encouragement. I appreciate it.
To Tasha Bynum, thanks for the constant promotion of my work. I appreciate you.
To my readers that are always around with words of encouragement and showing me love, no matter what I’m going through, please know I appreciate y’all: Nicki Williams, Rhea Wilson, Qiana Drennen, Barbara Morgan, Dawn Jackson, Cherri Johnson, Mary Bishop, Kendra Littleton, Toni Futrell, Priscilla Murray, Joyce Dickerson, Nola Brooks, Beverly Onfroy, Erica Taylor, Yvonne Covington, Evelyn Johnson, Dessiree Ellison, Donica James, Cherita Price, Nawlinz Robinson, Redgirl Pettrie, Alexis Goodwyn, Mellonie Brown, Tonya Tinsley, Pam Williams, Tammy Rosa, Antinqua Bradby, Venus Murray, Shann Adams, Nancy Pyram, Tina Simmons, Nikki Macnifcent, Kenia Michelle, Jenise Brown, Kysha Small, Suprenia Hutchins, MzNicki Ervin, Trina Mcguire, Rebecca Rogers, Stephanie Wiley, Tera Kinsley-Colman, and Kesia Ashworth-Lawrence.
To the Literary Divas of Spartanburg, ladies, I appreciate the support y’all have given me. I am forever grateful.
Shout out to the Sisters of Essence Book Club, Eva Lee, Sonja Cooks, and the other ladies. I appreciate all the love!
Shout out to all my family in the U.S., Canada, and England, too many to name. I love y’all.
Shout out to my BDP family, thanks for supporting me!
Prologue
“Rock of ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee; Let the water and the blood from thy wounded side which flowed, be of sin the double cure; Save from the wrath and make me pure,” the voice of a stocky woman echoed through the loudspeakers.
There was something ’bout that song and the way the words sounded that sent chills up my spine. I couldn’t take it; my head was spinning, and my legs trembled as I walked toward the front of the church. I quickly noticed, the church was packed to capacity. I didn’t want to be there, not for him, and definitely not with my child. I looked down on my baby. He didn’t have a care in the world. He just smiled at me with those bright, big eyes just like his daddy’s. I held him closer to my chest and hugged him tight as I tried my best to hold my balance.
The closer I got to the casket, the more my body quaked; I felt clammy, and my heart slammed against my chest. I stood there frozen in place as I stared into the face of the only man that I’ve ever loved. His face looked unfamiliar. He was swollen and black as midnight. I touched his cold, hard face and rubbed his hair. Tears rolled down my face as I bent down to kiss him on the cheek.
“Alijah, babyyyyyy!” I screamed out in pain. My heart was trying to jump out of my body.
“Grab the child. She’s about to fall,” a man’s voice hollered.
Everything around me turned dark, and the room spun around on its axis. Water gathered in my mouth as my knees gave in, and I fell to the floor.
* * *
I woke up minutes later, but I still wasn’t feeling good. I looked for my baby. Where the hell is my child? I thought.
“Where’s my son?” I asked weakly.
“You fainted a few minutes ago. His grandmother has him,” some woman said.
I was rushed to Kingston Public Hospital. Man, this hospital was ratchet as hell. People were lying all over the floor, waiting to be seen. A nurse brought me a little wooden stool, and that’s where I was at for about three hours. When I finally got a chance to see the doctors, they did a little bullshit-ass checkup and sent me to a little cube they call a room.
I was happy to be able to relax a little bit, ’cause it was the worst day of my life, and being in this place wasn’t helping any. I’d never imagined in a million years that I would be at Alijah’s funeral. Life was unfair; we never got a chance to live our lives the way we had intended. We had big plans, to have more babies, but now I can’t. I can’t wear his last name—nothing. Everything was over for us.
I lay in the hospital bed with tears flowing and replayed all the events that had happened over the past two years. Looking back now, it seemed like we never had a chance from the beginning. How could life be this cruel? I thought. All I wanted was to be loved, and the only man that ever gave a fuck about me was taken away without warning.
I felt like I didn’t want to live anymore. I was ready to go be with my man. This shit was not fair at all.
“Why, God? You should’ve let me die.” I looked up with tears rolling down my face. I knew I w
as being selfish, but the pain that I felt was like a sharp knife cutting my heart into tiny pieces, and it was becoming unbearable!
“Hey, honey, how you feeling?” Jeanette asked as she entered the room.
“Feeling? I’m not feelin’ much of anything.” I shook my head.
“I can’t say I understand how you’re feeling, but you have to get it together for Azir’s sake. He already lost one parent. He deserves to have at least one,” she said while she rubbed my back.
I looked at her with tears in my eyes. I never figured out where her strength came from, but even through Alijah’s death and me almost being killed, she had been the one that was holding everything down.
“God should’ve let me die with him. He’s my e’erythin’. Since you have answers for e’erythin’, why don’t you tell me how I’m supposed to go on from here? I lost e’erythin’. You hear me, every fucking thing!” I screamed.
“Sierra, shut the fuck up talkin’ like that. I thought I lost you when you was on that floor. I got on my knees in that hospital, and I begged God for mercy. I begged him to save my child’s life. I even told him to take my life instead. I know I’m not the most righteous person, but I know God is able to work many miracles; don’t you start being ungrateful—you need to be thanking him, ’cause Azir could have been an orphan right now,” my mother barked back.
I wasn’t in the mood to argue with this self-righteous bitch, so I closed my eyes and let my mind wander off into a fantasy world.
I must have dozed off because I was awakened by the sound of voices arguing. I thought I was trippin’ off the narcotics that I had earlier, but soon found out that I wasn’t.
“Yo, what the fuck is going on in here?” I yelled.
Jeanette and Alijah’s mom turned their attention to me. They seemed surprised.
“Sorry, baby, but Miss Thing here come up in here talking about she want to keep Azir out here in Jamaica. She done lost her goddamn mind.”
“What you talking about?” I then turned to his mother for some kind of clarification.
“Sierra, mi cum here in peace. Mi not tryin’a cause nuh trouble. Alijah was mi only pickney, and all mi ’ave left is Azir. All mi asking is to let him stay wit’ mi until you get back ’pon yuh foot.”
“I’m lost! You’re the same woman that called me a home wrecker. The same one that didn’t think I was good enough for her son. Now you are here talking ’bout you come in peace. No, there’s no fucking peace! Azir is my fucking son that I pushed outta my pussy. And I will not let you or anyone else play Mommy to him. I’m good, and best believe, he’s going to be good. Trust me, I understand you love your son, but you won’t use mine to replace him,” I spat at her with venom in my voice.
I glanced at her. This was Alijah’s mom, the same bitch that cussed me out in the hospital, who talked to me like I wasn’t no good for her damn son. Yes, it’s her, same old wicked bitch, only this time, she appeared as if she lost a great amount of weight. Her body looked frail, and her eyes were dark; they sank inside of her head as if she lacked days of sleep. In that instant, I felt some kind of pity for her, not because I felt like she deserved it, but because I knew how close she and her son were. I couldn’t imagine how I would feel if it was my child. I wouldn’t be able to stand here. I would be in a coffin.
“Come here.” I motioned for her to come closer to my bed, and she practically fell into my arms. We hugged and cried together. The harder we cried, the tighter we hugged.
“I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I didn’t know how Shayna really was. She had me fooled until Alijah told me everything that she did to him. I was shocked and hurt, because I treated her as my own. I do tell you, that boy loved you,” she said as she wept.
I don’t know why I was hugging this woman. But I know Alijah loved us both, and he would want us to be here for each other. That was enough confirmation for me when I heard her say Alijah loved me. I squeezed her tighter as the tears flowed freely. We finally let go of each other, and I glanced at Jeanette. I sensed a bit of jealousy coming from her.
Jeanette was like a mama pit bull. She was out for blood when it came down to me, even though at times she got on my nerves. I kind of loved the feeling that someone had my back. I knew we had a long way to go, but I knew in due time, we would get there.
“Miss Jeanette, mi sorry fi cum up in here like dis. I kno’ yo’ love fo’ har is strong, and as a madda, mi understand, ’cause I would protect mine if he were still here.”
“I understand; it’s just that she’s been through enough as it is. So when you were saying you wanted her baby, it kind of rubbed me the wrong way. I wasn’t the best of anything for her when she was young, but I’m here now, and they gotta kill me first before I let another person hurt her.”
My mother was right. I had been through too much shit. Dealing with Shayna’s crazy ass and now the death of Alijah. A bitch can’t take anymore. Anything else would be a death sentence on my soul. They continued talking, totally ignoring the fact that I was in the room.
“Y’all, I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere,” I said. It was getting too hectic in the room.
We continued talking about Shayna and all the wicked shit she has done. His mother was shocked when I broke it down and let her know. I promised her that I would think about leaving Azir with her for a few months. A year at the most while I get myself together. She thanked me and left out.
“Are you sure you want to leave your baby down here? Sierra, you don’t really know nothing about these people. You know Alijah, not his damn family,” Jeanette lashed out.
“To be honest, I think it would be a good move to leave Azir with her, because we will be returning to the States in a few days, and I have no idea what my future will hold.”
The feds took my home and the money that was in the safe downstairs. I wasn’t sure how deep their investigation was. I need to call my lawyer to find out what’s up before I even step foot on that plane.
I’m happy I wasn’t a fool and had a little something saved for rainy days. I also knew that Alijah had several accounts in the Cayman Islands and Jamaica, so Azir was set for life. That dude was definitely a street dude, but he was no dumbass nigga. He had his shit well put together when it comes down to his money.
A day later, I was released from the hospital. That IV they gave me definitely gave me an energy boost, along with all Jeanette’s pep talk. After I left the hospital, I was a woman on a mission; I needed to visit Alijah’s grave. Jeanette tried to convince me that I was in no shape to visit him. I had to; I was his woman and his bottom bitch. He was buried in a cemetery not far from his family home. I totally ignored what she was saying. This was one of the times her ass was getting on my nerves with that all that preaching shit.
I got out of the car and walked toward the graves until I saw the Jackson plot. I promised myself I would not fall out; I had to make it to him. I walked over to his grave and stood there, frozen in place. I rubbed my hand across the cross that his name was written on. I smiled because I knew how much he hated the name “Benjamin.” Right about now, Alijah Benjamin Jackson didn’t sound bad at all. Matter of fact, I would give up everything to hear him say his full government name out loud. Then fuss about how much he hated that name.
“Baby, I hope you can hear me. I know I’m late, but I’m here now. Your baby girl is not doing too good. I need you, my right hand.” The tears rolled down my face, and my lips trembled as I struggled to get the words out.
I stood there waiting to hear his voice, that thick Jamaican accent to come out and say something. I waited and waited, but nothing happened. That’s when it really hit me hard that he wasn’t coming back. My baby wasn’t coming back to me. My body shivered as I broke down and wept.
“Listen, baby boy, I’m trying to hold on, but it’s hard. I should be there wit’ you. It’s not fair, and I don’t want to live without you; I can’t live without you. Alijah, do you hear me? I can’t live without you. I won�
�t live without you,” I yelled out.
“I love you! I need you, Alijaaah,” I screamed as I collapsed on top of the grave.
His cousin Ryan, who was waiting in the car, ran over and picked me up.
“Miss Sierra, is yuh all right, ma’am?”
I could barely respond, so I nodded my head yes. “I just need a few more minutes by myself.”
“Yes, ma’am, mi go be right dere waiting.”
I know Alijah was dead; at least my mind was telling me that, but my heart wasn’t trying to hear that shit. I know he was going to be lonely out here by himself. I didn’t want to leave him. I just stood there, shaking uncontrollably.
“Miss Sierra, it’s time for us to go, ma’am. My uncle wouldn’t want you out here like that, ma’am.”
Maybe Ryan was right. What use was it for me to be out here? My Alijah was gone. He helped me back to the car and drove me away. I looked back as the car sped away. I didn’t know when I’d be back to see him. I wish he was buried in the States, but I respected the fact that this was his birthplace and his mother wanted him to come home. But was this his home? Alijah’s home was with me, in my heart forever.
That night when I got back to the hotel, I went straight to bed. I had a lot on my mind and didn’t feel like being bothered. I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, especially when Mama brought me Azir. He looked just like his daddy, and that made it hard for me to cope. I just sat there for hours, looking at my baby. When God made him, he did a complete replica of Alijah’s face. Everything about him resembled Alijah. I smiled at him, as I think back on all the good times between his dad and me.
I woke up that morning and decided to let Alijah’s mother keep him in Jamaica. Trust me, this wasn’t an easy decision for me, but I wasn’t in any shape to care for him right now. I need to get my mind right before I can be a good mother to him. I called his grandmother and let her know my decision. She was very pleased and was on her way to get him.