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The Battle is Not Between Us

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“Hell,” the prostrate woman gritted through her teeth. “You’re the one that has been screwing with my husband.”

“Whoa, wait a minute." Using her hands Quentin pressed into the woman’s chest and stomach to aid herself in crossing over and standing. "Let’s get a couple of facts straight. I’ve only known him three weeks. No sleeping around here.”

Grabbing the loose ends of her below shoulder length hair in one hand she stooped to retrieve the rubber band that had been torn from its strands in the struggle and started to return it to the ponytail style she had been wearing, but her hands were shaking too much and she tossed the band on the island counter top in the kitchen.

Glaring at the heavily breathing woman still lying on the floor Quentin took two cokes from the refrigerator, retrieved the rubber band, and walked back into the living room. What she wanted to do was bash the can in the woman’s face, instead she silently handed one to Josiah’s wife before taking a seat on the couch. From the corner of her eye Quentin watched as the woman opened the can, took a sip and rubbed her empty hand across her face with shaky movements.

Quentin while keeping her glance on the woman from the corner of her eye, leaned her head back into the cushions and took a big gulp from her own can.

“What’s your name?” she asked.


“I’ll tell you this much, Shanel…” she sat up and pointed her finger at Josiah’s wife. “Before you think about bustin’ into some other woman’s home you’d better lose a little weight, take some self-defense classes and then change your mind and kick Josiah’s sorry ass. Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you’re fat.” she raised her hands in a defensive mode. “I’m just sayin’ you’re breathing all hard like you’re gonna have a heart attack and If you hadn’t caught me by surprise I could have hurt you.” She looked at the strands of her hair entangled in the rubber band. “And why the hell did you come to fight me? Do you see how much of my hair you pulled out?” She tossed the band towards the woman and it hit her in the face. “This shit right here,” Quentin lifted a hand full of hair to show and then let it fall back down. “Is real and your pulling it hurt like hell.” Quentin got up quickly and thoroughly examined her face in the mirror. “Oh my God, you better be glad I don’t have any photo shoots for the next two weeks or I would press charges on you.” She looked at the woman searchingly. “You must not have any children.”


Those Feeling My Voice