OMARI

      It was a little after eight when I walked in the house only to smell the aroma of freshly cooked food coming from the kitchen. I tossed my bag beside the couch before heading into the kitchen to see Isabella in the kitchen standing over the stove in a simple pair of plaid shorts and a red tank top. Her hair was twisted up and pinned at the top of her head while she bobbed her head to Never Too Much by Luther Vandross. She went to grab one of the Mikasa plates and quickly spooned perfectly cooked brown rice onto the plate before looking in the pan and turning the fire down. Just as she was grabbing a large spoon she caught my reflection in the mirror and jumped back in shock while clutching her chest.

      "Did I scare you?" I asked as I pushed myself off the wall and walked further into the kitchen to see what she'd made.

      "I just didn't hear you come in," she replied as a blush began to color her honey brown cheeks.

      "What are you making?" I asked her.

      We'd been living with each other for almost a week now and she'd yet to cook, at least when I was home, so to come home and find her in the kitchen and throwing down like she knew what she was doing shocked me. I know it's wrong to judge her but I honestly didn't look at her and see a girl who cooked. Too many women, especially women of privilege, just couldn't be bothered to learn how to actually turn on a burner let alone prepare a meal.

      "I was out earlier and stopped by the market. They had some nice jumbo shrimp so I figured I'd make lemon-garlic shrimp for dinner," she replied as she carefully arranged seven large and well seasoned shrimp over the brown rice. "You like sea food don't you?" she asked as she paused from shifting extra butter sauce over the shrimp.

      "Yeah, I do," I replied.

      She gave me a huge smile as she arranged three slices of lemon on the edge of the plate. "Why don't you wash your hands and take a seat in the dining room. I'm almost done."

      I nodded and left the kitchen for the nearest bathroom. If that food tasted half as good and it smelled, I might actually have to thank my father for making me marry her. He pushed me into a drama free relationship with a beautiful woman who could cook; how could I be mad at that? Just as I pushed my chair closer to the table Isabella came out of the kitchen with my plate in both hands. She sat it in front of me before leaving the dining room and returning with a basket of warm, slightly crispy, slices of bread and a glass of red wine.

      "Let me know what you think," she replied before leaving and heading back in the kitchen.

      I watched her retreating form and wondered if she would join me or not. My question was answered when she came in with a significantly lighter looking plate and a glass of water.

ISABELLA

      I enjoyed my food while inconspicuously looking for Omari's reaction. Cooking had always been a passion of mine and, thanks to the lessons my parents had paid for, I was quite good. Unfortunately I didn't really cook often and so other than Paula and Josh, not too many people had tasted anything I'd made.

      "You put your foot in this girl," Omari replied as he inhaled a jumbo shrimp.

      "I'm guessing that you like it," I replied with a smile.

      "I didn't know you could cook like this," he replied.

      "There's quite a bit you don't know about me but you have time to learn," I replied. He glanced up at me, his intense gaze making me feel uncomfortable so I broke eye contact. "And I made a black bottom banana cream pie. It's chilling in the fridge so if when you're finished you want a little desert you can cut yourself a slice."

      "Damn girl," Omari replied in a low voice.

      Seeing as I'd eaten less than Omari, I was finished before him. As I was gathering my plate and utensils Omari stopped me and said, "A couple of my friends want to meet you and I wanted to know when was a good time for you."

      "Well I have that overnight thing the day after tomorrow and Paula comes to town that Saturday so how about you bring them over tomorrow. Just let me know what time they're coming and I'll prepare something," I told him.

      "You don't have to. I can just pick up something on the way," he started.

      "It's not like I have anything else to do. How many people should I expect?" I asked.

      "Including us, somewhere around ten people," he answered.

      I nodded and made my way into the kitchen and placed everything I'd used in the dishwasher before heading into my bedroom so that I could take a nice relaxing bath.

Dreux

      O and I were talking to the distributors about shipping in a couple of cases of Louis XIII when I saw Terrell walking over with two of her girl friends with her. She was dressed casually in a colorful printed mini dress layered over black lace leggings and pair of orange pointy toe flats. She stared at Omari's figure with determination on her face and I knew some shit was about to go down. I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't give Omari a head's up.

      "Would you stop," Omari snapped after I hit him a second time.

      "Yo, your girl's coming over," I warned.

      "Isabella?" he asked curiously.

      I made a mental note to ask when he'd started calling her his girl before clarifying, "Nah, Terri."

      Omari froze up for a minute before turning around to face Terri. Terri motioned for her girls to fall back as she headed over towards Omari and me. I figured the two of them needed some privacy so I walked off to a distance that was far enough away to give them a semblance of privacy while still being able to hear what they were saying.

OMARI

      "What's going on Omari?" Terri asked me.

      "With what?" I asked her. I didn't want to start explaining shit she had no idea about. I wasn't about to get myself in more trouble than I was already in.

      "That bullshit ass text message for starters," she snapped before adding, "And you're avoiding me now? What's up with that?"

      "I haven't been avoiding you Terri," I told her, "I've been busy-"

      "You've been busy before but you always made time for me," she pointed out.

      "Like I said," I replied, "I've been busy and the text message was self explanatory. It's over."

      "Over? Just like that? What happened?" she asked. "One day we're happy and have a date set up and the next you're breaking up with me? On top of that you couldn't even tell that shit to my face. I found out from a damn text message. How fucked up is that?"

      "I'm sorry if I hurt you-"

      "You are sorry!" she snapped. "A sorry ass excuse for a man. I spent eight months with you and you couldn't even give me the decency of telling me face to face that you didn't want to be with me anymore? At least tell me why."

      "It just wasn't working out," I told her feeling like shit.

      "Wasn't working out?" she asked in disbelief before shoving me. I grabbed her wrists and tried to calm her down.

      "Get your fucking hands off me!" she snapped as she looked down at my hands and she froze before snatching her hands from my grip.

      "Why do you have a ring on your finger?" she asked in trepidation.

      "Terri-"

      "No, don't!" she yelled as she slowly closed her eyes and said, "How long?"

      "What?"

      "How long have you been cheating on me or was I the other woman all along?" she asked as a tear slid down her cheek.

      Her girls looked like they wanted to fuck me up but I wasn't concerned with them right now. It had never been my intention to hurt Terri but it was inevitable. The two of us wouldn't have been together forever; it was just unfortunate how things had turned out.

      "It's complicated," I told her honestly.

      She stared at me for a bit before shaking her head and saying, "You know what? I don't even fucking care. Just do you."

ISABELLA

      I walked out of Whole Foods grocery store and checked my time as I pushed the cart over to Omari's BMW and popped the trunk before hefting the heavy bags and trying to put them in the car before anything spilled over. I was having a bit of trouble with the second bag when a guy jogged over from his white Range Rover and helped me get the bag of spices and can goods in the trunk.

      "Thank you," I said with a smile as I closed the trunk.

      "I'm Shawn," he replied as he offered me his hand.

      "Isabella," I replied as I slid my smaller hand into his.

      "I don't want to keep you but I was wondering if maybe we could get together some time," he asked.

      "I'm in a relationship right now," I told him.

      He took rejection with a smile and jogged over to the entrance of the grocery store while I got in the driver's seat of the car and drove the fifteen minutes back to the apartment. I'd washed my hands and was in the middle of cutting the chicken breasts I had seasoned when the phone rang. I didn't bother glancing at the caller id before pressing the speaker button and saying hello.

      "Hi, this is Terrell Henderson I'm looking for Omari," a female voice asked.

      "He's not here right now but I can take a message," I offered as I continued slicing the thick pieces of meet.

      "Who am I speaking to?" the person asked pleasantly.

      "Isabella," I answered before hearing the dial tone. I looked at the phone curiously before shrugging and placing the cordless back on it's holder.

OMARI

      It was a quarter after seven when I got home and all my friends, well my close friends, were with me. I opened the door and immediately smelled the tantalizing scent of well seasoned food. De'Mario, being the food lover and aspiring chef of the group, immediately headed into the kitchen to see what was cooking only to come out with a kabob.

      "Damn this is good," he groaned as he chewed.

      "What's that?" Tonya asked.

      "I believe it's a lamb kabob with grilled apple slices and peppers," he replied.

      "Is Isabella in the kitchen?" I asked curiously.

      "No," he replied.

      "How the hell are you just going to grab food without her offering it to you first," his girlfriend Jordan snapped as she slapped him in the stomach.

      "It's quite alright," Isabella said from the left of us. "I put the apple lamb kabobs on the counter just in case you all came in before I finished getting dressed."

      I turned around to see her walking in, comfortably dressed in a Juicy Couture short and hoodie set with white ankle socks on her feet.

      "Isabella the guy already eating is my boy De'Mario and the woman next to him in the cream dress and boots is his girlfriend Jordan. Now the guy across from him standing next to the girl in the tan sweatpants and matching jacket is my boy Shad and his fiancé Ciara. Across from them is my brother Marques, my cousin Jarell, his girlfriend Tonya, and you already know Dreux. Everybody this is my wife Isabella."

      "Hi," she said demurely as she waved at them all. "I hope you're all hungry because I prepared Indian Chicken with Couscous and made a Strawberry Devonshire Tart."

      "You can throw down like that?" Tonya asked.

      "I enjoy cooking," she replied modestly with a shrug.

      "You sure you not from the south?" De'Mario asked.

      "I'm a New Yorker, born and raised," she answered with a laugh.

      "Why don't you all sit down? Dinner's about ready. I'll bring out the rest of the kabobs so you can have something to munch on while you wait," Isabella said before walking off.

      "She seems sweet," Tonya replied after a moment.

      "It's just a damn shame she's stuck with you," Ciara joked and I gave her the finger.

ISABELLA

      Omari's friends chilled with us for a couple of hours and I grew comfortable around them. They were all a great group of people and seemed to embrace me, I guess knowing the situation made the transition a little bit better. When Dreux and I first met he'd kind of given me the cold shoulder but I think I grew on him. Either that or he realized I would be around for a while and it would just be easier to accept me than hate me.

      After they left Omari helped me rinse the dishes off before placing them in the dishwasher. It wasn't until I was wiping the water off the counter that I remembered the call from earlier.

      "Omari?" I called to his as he led me out the kitchen.

      "What's wrong?" he asked as he glanced over his shoulder.

      "Nothing's wrong, it's just that I almost forgot to give you a message," I started.

      "From whom?" he asked.

      "Some woman named Terrell Henderson. She said to tell you she called," I mentioned and he stopped walking causing me to almost bump into him. "Are you okay?"

      "I'm fine," he said quickly and I frowned a bit at his reaction. "Did she say anything?"

      "Not really. Just asked me who I was," I motioned with a shrug as I walked around him to head to my bedroom.

      "And what did you tell her?" he asked.

      "Just told her my name, why? Is something wrong?" I asked.

      "No. Don't even worry about it," he replied with a wave as I opened my bedroom door.

      "Goodnight Omari," I told him before closing the door behind me.