Beautiful Liar

Chapter 1

Zonnique's POV

He was late again. I let out a big sigh and continued putting away the toys in the living room. When I talked to him yesterday, he promised that he was going to be home by six o'clock tonight. It's almost seven. Pushing a lock of my blonde hair behind my ear, I looked around the room. It was a mess. This was hard. I thought about taking him up on his offer to hire us a housekeeper. I told him no, I could take care of our family and our home, I didn't need any help. Except his. I fully support his dream of being a rapper and having to be on the road all the time. I'm all right with that; what I need him to help out with was actually being a husband and father, like he had promised me seven years ago.

"Mom, is dad going to be coming home soon?" I turned around and looked at the little voice that had just asked me that. I tried to force a smile on my face as I looked at my son, Jayden.

"He's just running late. I think," I said softly. "He should be home soon. Can you help me pick up the rest of Brielle's toys?" I asked my seven year old as I started putting my daughter's coloring books into a pile.

"I guess so," he said solemnly as he started putting Barbie dolls into a toy box. Brielle had a million dolls; her father felt bad for her every time he had to head back out on the road, so he brought her a new doll when he came home, and then they went to the store before he left again for another new doll.

"Where is Bre?" I asked Jayden.

"Upstairs...." he said quietly.

I was about to ask him to go up and check on her, but just then the front door swung open and Zoey came strutting in the door. "Dad!" Jayden shouted as he dropped what he was doing and launched himself into his dad's arms.

"Hey buddy," Zoey said softly as he hugged Jayden and then gave him a high five. "How are you doing kiddo?" I caught Zoey's eye as he listened to Jayden talk about what had been going on in his second grade world since his dad had been gone. I was still trying to be mad at him for being late and not calling, but once his hazel eyes met mine and he smirked at me; I forgot all about being mad at him.

"Daddy!" a little voice screamed from the staircase as our three year old, Brielle, came tromping down the stairs.

"Hey, baby," he mumbled as he she flung herself into his arms.

"What did you bring me?" she asked with a big smile on her face.

I was about to chastise her for asking her dad a question like that when Zoey set her down and pulled out a brand new Barbie doll from his travel bag. She squealed with delight and immediately ran upstairs to add this new doll to her growing collection. He handed Jayden a stack of programs from the shows he had been at for the last week or so and then he turned to me.

"Come here," he growled at me. It wasn't a mean growl, Zoey wasn't harsh or abusive to me at all; he was just the type of man who liked to play the assertive male in our marriage. It was something that I had learned to deal with, and eventually love, a long time ago. I went over to him, tilted my head. "You're late," I whispered as I trailed a finger across his collarbone. "You promised you'd be home over an hour ago...." I trailed off as I laid my head on his chest.

He wrapped his long tattooed arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him. "Sorry...." he whispered in my ear as he started nibbling on my ear lobe, causing me to shiver in his embrace. "I'll make it up to you later tonight," he said as he pulled away from me with a smirk on his face as he walked away from me and headed up to our bedroom to unpack his travel bags.

I loved this man, honestly and truly loved him. I've given him eight years of my life and two children. I stay home and raise these kids, hold down a job and take care of the house while he's on the road living his dream. I love him. I even love him enough to ignore the fact that his shirt smells like another woman. Again.