Coming from a life of drugs, money, and women, Michael "Meechie" Jackson had the world in the palm of his hands. He had power and his business, which he built from the ground up, morphed him into one of the most well-known drug lords in the city.
I...
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So much for keeping it between her and Vena; she had to vent. Vena could only do so much. Daeva was once married and had all the credentials and expertise in marriage, so to run down everything that happened a week ago was what Irish was currently doing. She had tears in her eyes reflecting on that day up until the video Michael sent on Snapchat just two days ago. She was still angry about that.
Never in her life she ever thought they would get to a point of telling each other "fuck you" and "I hate you". Irish didn't mean it but was unsure if Michael did considering how he was. She knew how brutally honest he could be. A type of honesty that she admired but also hated at the same time over the years. Just as she was wrapping up, she sighed exasperatedly in hopes that Daeva could give her some sound advice. She wasn't trying to include more people into their marital issues, but she was a newlywed wife who was still learning the ropes.
Michael was her longest relationship that reached the status of marriage and children. A dream of hers since she could remember, but it felt like she was failing miserably as a wife. Rephrase, she knew she was failing. She failed the moment she continued doubting and accusing him their entire relationship. It was so much she did that went unnoticed but all of his wrongdoings or what shethought was wrong always got pushed to the forefront. She always got a pat on the back even when she knew she shouldn't have.
"That was a lot," Daeva spoke, sitting back against her sofa as she looked at Irish through the camera. "Like, I know what to say, I just don't know where to start."
Irish sniveled, picking up the Kleenex tissue she had and wiped her nose. "I'm sorry for crying so much... It's just talking about everything again hurts. My fucking husband is not home. I don't know where he is or my kids when they're with him, but I know they're safe. Tobi is the mediator for everything. We don't talk unless it's in public, and it's like I don't exist to him or just his baby mama he hates. I want to fix this, but he's not opening up or making it easy for me."
"Why are you pressuring him to open up? And why should he make it easy for you?" When she didn't respond, Daeva took that as her cue to proceed. "Look, you know I'm with you all the way when you're right, but you are wrong as hell on top of not trusting him this whole time since you two been together. Accusing him on multiple occasions? You threw three and half years in the trash when you continued that mess for whatever reason you thought or felt was justified. Baby, if there isn't any trust, what do you really have? Then all of that extra stuff added in the mix with this Hailey chick. What were you looking for, hon?"
Irish shrugged not sure how to answer that. Even now she wasn't sure what she looked for. "I don't know, Dee. I just felt like knowing what he did with his ex and what my ex did to me was a possibility. Those dreams made it very possible when I saw her. I just don't know. I—" she sighed, "I just needed to be sure nothing was going on."
