Just A Taste. | Imagines.

Can't Be Right. | Morris Chesnut.

"I have my ways, Morris, so have your wife and kids about us yet?"

♡♥︎♡

His wife retrieved his attire from the gray laundry basket, remnants of his previous night. As her fingers clasped onto his black shirt, a delightful wave of jasmine perfume enveloped her senses, causing her brows to knit together in confusion. Instantly, her mind wandered back to the same fragrance that had filled the air during his victorious boxing match, where he took a picture alongside a mysterious woman.

Determined to dismiss such troubling thoughts, she shook her head, willing them to dissipate into oblivion. It seemed unlikely that he would be so stupid as to shatter her heart and their marriage.

What could possibly justify his actions? The fleeting pleasure, for a mere minute? To relive his youth? How was she to explain this to their children? As she retrieved his pants and dug into his pockets, she stumbled upon a slip of paper. With trembling hands, she took out the note, only for her eyes to widen in disbelief at the words signed on it.

"Had a great, unforgettable time with you last night, call me again sometime, 213-342-xxxx, xoxo. From Fatima."

Her eyes welled up with tears, cascading down her cheeks, while her trembling hands struggled to crumple the paper before her. Her quivering lip betrayed the anguish she felt, as soft sniffs punctuated her broken words.

"Why Morris?" she muttered to herself, her own foolishness weighing heavy on her heart. A sense of betrayal engulfed her, leaving her shattered and lonely. With a heavy heart, she reached for the house phone, listening in Fatima and Morris engaged in a conversation about their affair from the previous night.

"No, I haven't told her yet, but I got to. Don't call my fucking house anymore bitch!" He retorted, his breaths growing increasingly rapid as he spoke into the receiver.

"Bitch? Isn't it funny how you call me 'baby' and express your desire to submit to me? Remember when you eagerly consented and said 'yes'?" Fatima shot back, her voice dripping with spite.

"Are you gonna tell her how good I sucked your dick last night? How good I was riding you on the couch? How you really enjoyed yourself? You know what? Maybe I should have let you get me pregnant, just to shake up this shit!" Fatima retorted, her hand confidently resting on her hips.

In a fit of anguish, his wife hurls the phone with force onto the unforgiving ground, the deep crack echoing through the room. Tears cascade down her cheeks once more, as she cradles her face in trembling hands.

Collapsing onto the carpet, her knees buckle under the weight of heartbreak, and a gut-wrenching scream escapes her lips, as if releasing the agony that seeps into every fiber of her being.

♡♥︎♡

Morris swiftly turned towards his wife as she entered the bedroom from the laundry room, her cheeks drenched with tears and a soft sniffle escaping her.

His expression softened upon seeing her face. "Who the fuck is Fatima? The same bitch who took a picture with you last night?" She shouted with rage, her voice saturated with sadness.

He defensively raised his hands while moving closer towards her. "Y-Yes she is but—" Morris's wife abruptly interrupted him by slapping him across the face and then forcefully pushing him into the wall.

His wife shook his head in disbelief, so many questions lingering in her mind that she couldn't even find the right answer for this.

"Was it worth it? Those minutes of fucking her? Destroying this marriage Morris for her?"

"No, it wasn't. It was stupid and I don't want to lose you or the kids please." Morris pleaded, his voice trembling between his set of words.

The unfortunate reality was that he had already lost her from the instant he agreed to fuck Fatima. As soon as she led him into the room while holding his hand, their relationship and marriage were doomed.

"Pack your shit and leave this house right now, I will be calling a divorce attorney," she retaliated, gesturing towards the exit.

Without another word, Morris slowly nodded, his heart sinking as he realized the gravity of his actions. He turned away, gathering his belongings in silence as he puts them in a duffle bag, the weight of his mistakes heavy on his shoulders.

As he walked towards the door, his wife's voice broke through the silence. "And don't you dare try to contact me or the kids until we settle this in court. You've broken our trust, our family, and we deserve better."

Morris paused, his hand on the doorknob, and turned to face her one last time. His eyes were filled with regret and desperation. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

But his wife didn't respond. She simply held her ground, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger, pain, and determination. With a heavy sigh, Morris stepped out of the house, the door closing behind him, leaving his shattered life behind.

As he walked away, he couldn't help but replay the events of the previous night in his mind. The allure and excitement that had drawn him towards Fatima now seemed hollow and meaningless. He couldn't believe he had risked everything for a fleeting moment of pleasure.

Regret gnawed at his conscience, and he vowed to change, to become a better person. But he knew that the damage had been done, and the consequences of his actions would ripple through their lives indefinitely.

♡♥︎♡

Morris wearily collapsed onto the bed, causing a faint creak to echo in the medium-sized room. His trusty navy blue duffle bag found solace on the coffee-cream carpet of his humble apartment. In an attempt to numb his emotions, he reached for the cold beer and took a sip, allowing the bitterness to seep his taste buds.

The bitter liquid seemed to mirror the bitter and crushed state he found himself in. Seeking a distraction, he grabbed the remote control and flicked on the television, tuning in to a basketball game.

Hoping to drown out the overwhelming pain, he desperately tried to find solace in the fast-paced game. But deep down, Morris knew he couldn't escape his current reality.

He was taken by surprise when he heard a soft tap on his apartment door just as he set his beer on the dresser. Despite not being in the mood for company, he stepped out of the room and made his way through the cramped hallway, hoping that it would be his wife.

He swung the door open and there stood Fatima wearing an oversized grey sweatshirt and sweatpants with a smirk on her face, "You're stalking my ass now? I'm not in the mood to see you. Stay the fuck away from me and my family." Morris spat, slamming the door shut in her face.

Fatima's face twisted with annoyance as she dismissed Morris with a scoff and a shake of her head in disbelief before swiftly turning on her heels and getting into her car, "That's what I get for fucking a married man, they're too boring for me, I need a gangsta." she muttered under her breath.

Fatima's car peeled off the quiet neighborhood, she switched on her radio, Adina Howard's "Freak Like Me" began playing softly in the background while she sped down the street, searching for a new partner who could fulfill her cravings.

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Please excuse any grammar mistakes ❤️