Whores & Wives [VI]

“Open the door, Barnard.” I demanded, calmly, my eyes on still on the bimbo. “Amya, get away from my car, okay. All of this is your fault anyway. Just get the fuck away from my car!” He yelled and pushed me out the way. Startled by the push, and his comment, I stumbled and hit the ground. Barnard opened the driver’s side door and climbed inside. Pain shot through my arm when I pushed myself up off the ground, but didn’t have time to think about it. “What the hell do you mean this is my fault, Barnard? How do I have anything to do with any of this?” Barnard looked at me as if I were the crazy one. I could tell he was sincerely shocked by my statement, and that puzzled me even more. “You’re really going to act like I don’t know Mya?” He cocked his head to the side and threw me a quizzical look. “So…you’re still going to play this game, huh?” “What game?" I asked, enormously confused. "What are you talking about, Barnard?” “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re really serious right now, huh?” He put his hands on his head in amazement and let out a hysterical laugh. “You bitches been playing me from day one and you want to act like you don’t know?” “Playing you?” I was genuinely confused. “Barnard, why can’t you ever take responsibility for anything you’ve done …why is it always---” I was starting to sound like Derrick Michael when Barnard cut me off, his voice loud enough to wake the neighborhood. “So you really going to stand in my face and act like you’ve not been fucking my wife our entire marriage, Amya?”