“Why not, Teddy? You claim you love me, so why do I have to keep waiting around for you to tell this bitch what the real deal is?” Reese had been seeing Teddy for a little over four months. At first she didn’t know he was married, but by the time she found out, she was already hopelessly in love with the man. When she confronted him, he fed her a story about how the marriage was already on the rocks and how he was about to file for a divorce from his wife of ten years. Though her brain screamed he was a fat fucking liar, and she should cut him loose, her heart vetoed it. Teddy had his fucked-up ways about him, but for the most part he was good to Reese. He spent money on her and made her feel beautiful. Though in her heart she knew there was more to love than that, it was enough for the moment.

“Reese, a situation like this requires tact. Penny is an emotional woman. If I break it to her like that, there ain’t no telling what she might do. I’d feel like shit if I found out she killed herself ’cause I left her,” he said, flattering himself. “I promise, baby.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Just give me a little more time and it’ll just be me and you.”

“Whatever,” Reese said, pouting like a child.

For the next five minutes they drove in silence. Teddy fumbled with the radio while Reese busied herself looking out the window, watching the blur of faces. When they reached 125th Street, Teddy made a right instead of busting a left to head to the east side.

“Teddy, where are you going? Madison Avenue is the other way,” Reese pointed out.

Teddy kept his eyes directly in front of him as he navigated through the busy traffic and turned left on Seventh Avenue. “I know, boo, but I gotta stop by the spot right quick.”

“Come on, Teddy, I wanna get to the store before they run out of my size in those new Dior shoes.”

Teddy pulled in front of a building on 124th and Seventh and parked the car. “Baby, them shoes ain’t going nowhere. Big daddy got you.” Without giving her a chance to protest, he hopped out and began walking toward the building.

On the third floor, Teddy led her into what he liked to call his Honeycomb Hideout. It was a sparsely furnished studio apartment that he kept in Harlem, unbeknownst to his wife. Reese had been there a few times, but he kept her visits limited and wouldn’t allow her to have a key. The reason for this was he claimed to have work on that block, but didn’t want the niggaz from around there getting too familiar with anyone he cared about. Teddy had a bullshit story for every occasion.