Confessions. Sasha Campbell

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СКАЧАТЬ my memory serves me right, as far as you’re concerned, they’re all ‘the one.’” Junior had gone through so many relationships it was pathetic. Nothing ever worked and it was always the woman’s fault. He was what the show The Biggest Loser should really be about. He would have no problem winning, because he was definitely a big, fat loser.

      “No, this woman was crazy.”

      Listen to him tell it, they all were. “Come on, Junior. Tell me what happened, even if the truth hurts.”

      “What’s there to say? I loved her, still do, and part of me wished she’d come back to me. I just don’t understand why she ended it. I was there for her, giving her everything she needed and then some, but she had the nerve to say she needed some space.”

      I stuck my finger down my throat. Men like Junior were sickening. “Maybe you were smothering her.”

      “Nope. As soon as she said she needed room, I gave it to her. I guess I just loved her too much.”

      “Ugh! You’re turning me off. Come on, Junior. A woman likes excitement and a little mystery.”

      “I gave her excitement! I bought her roses, surprised her with a massage. I cut her grass, washed her clothes.”

      I cut him off. “Like I said, all that catering is a turnoff. That seems to be a pattern of yours.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “I mean you can’t keep a woman! I know the truth hurts, but if anyone’s gonna be honest with you, it’s Ms. Nikki.”

      He laughed. It was a soft, eerie sound. “That’s what I love most about you.”

      Just like everyone else. “Junior, you call every month to tell me how you’ve gotten dumped. At some point you have to realize they can’t all be crazy. Maybe it’s time you started looking at yourself.”

      “I’m a nice man.”

      “Didn’t you get the memo? Nice guys finish last. As sad as it may sound, women don’t want a man who wears his heart on his sleeve.”

      “I don’t understand that. Women are always talking about how they want a good man, yet when they get a man who isn’t trying to take their money or drive their car, they don’t want him.”

      I sighed dramatically. “You’re right, and it’s a damn shame. However, we do know what we don’t want, and that’s a clingy man.”

      “I’m not smothering.”

      “Gotta be. You’ve been dumped five times in the last six months.”

      There was a noticeable pause. “Wow! You’ve been keeping track. You obviously care more than I imagined.”

      “Nah, don’t get the shit twisted. I just got a good memory and you, my friend, are unforgettable.”

      “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

      “Why? I wouldn’t. True, there are some women out there who appreciate a good man who’s also needy. Unfortunately, me and the hundred females I know don’t. However, I’m gonna let the listeners be the judge. Let’s see if there is one female listening tonight who’d go out with you. In fact, I’m gonna open up the phone lines and see if we can possibly make a love connection. This is Nikki Truth with Truth Hurts, and for any listeners who are just tuning in, I’m on the phone with Junior. Junior, say hello to the listeners.”

      “Hello.”

      I almost laughed at the way he tried to sound like Barry White somebody. “Junior is one of my faithful listeners. He is also a good man, who is unlucky with love. If there are any single women out there looking for a special kind of man, give me a call, because I’m about to hook you up.” I couldn’t help emphasizing special, because Junior was definitely a head case.

      “I-I prefer picking my own women,” he sputtered. I guess he was uncomfortable with me trying to help him out.

      “Maybe that’s the problem. You might be picking the wrong type, but I’m gonna hook you up.”

      “Damn, Ms. Nikki,” he began with a chuckle. It was obvious I was making him nervous. “I respect your advice, but why you always have to be so hard? In fact, why you gotta put a brotha on the spot?”

      “Hey, I’m just telling it like I see it. In the meantime, keep your head up and take my advice for a change.” I depressed the button, then took a few more calls and read several e-mails, but no one phoned in interested in going out with Mr. Loser. Not that I was the least bit surprised. By midnight my head was hurting and I was anxious to wrap up the show. “This is Nikki Truth at Hot 97 WJPC, ending another evening. When things get tough, remember the truth will set you free. Until next time.” I leaned back in my chair as I took off the headset. By the time I placed it on the table, the sound of Jennifer Hudson was bellowing over the air. Tristan always knew what song to play at the end of each show. Sitting back in my chair, I had to smile. Tonight had been another fulfilling night. My producer came running over to my desk.

      “You did it, girl! Another fabulous night.” Tristan snapped his fingers. He’s sweeter than a Krispy Kreme doughnut, but he is one hell of a producer and has been one of my closest friends for years.

      “Thank you, sweetie.”

      He blew me a kiss, then pursed his cherry lip-gloss lips as he draped a hand at his narrow waist. “After Georgia comes on to take over the quiet storm, you wanna go grab an apple martini? I bought these shoes and I’m dying to be seen. Girlfriend is looking fierce!” He struck a pose, and I couldn’t do anything but laugh. One thing Tristan knew was clothes. And even better, he knew how to get them cheap. Whenever I was in the mood for shopping, I took Tristan because he knew where to find every bargain from St. Louis to Chicago.

      “Nah, I got an early day tomorrow at the bookstore. I was planning to go home and take a hot bubble bath and curl up under the covers.”

      He pursed his lips with disapproval, then sat his narrow ass on the end of my desk in front of me. “Miss Thang, I ain’t even gonna try to beat around the bush about it. You need some dick in your life.” I got ready to speak but he held up a heavily jeweled hand. “Hold on. Let me finish. Nikki, girlfriend, it’s been six months, girl. Enough is enough. It’s time for you to move on.”

      Tears burned at the backs of my eyes, and I let one roll down my cheek. Tristan was one of the few people I allowed to see me this vulnerable. He was right. I needed to start facing reality, but deep down, I wasn’t ready yet to admit my marriage was over. “I know. You’re right.”

      “Of course I’m right,” he said with a toss of his fabulous weave. “Let’s go get our drink on. I promise just one and we’re out.”

      Tristan and I had been friends for almost five years, and that was long enough to know he wasn’t going to give up until I agreed. I slipped into my winter coat, said good-bye to the rest of the night owls, then strolled out of the studio to my silver Lexus. Every time I saw my car it made me smile and gave me what I desperately needed—something to smile about. As I climbed behind the wheel and pulled out of the parking lot, I couldn’t help but think about what Tristan had said. I needed to give up hoping and finally move on. Deep down, part of me knew my marriage was over, but a part of me still hoped СКАЧАТЬ