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April 30, 1995.| 7:15 PM.| Beverly Hills, California.
"Malika, stop playing & let me see my daughter." Michael spoke defiantly on the phone to his ex wife."
"It's my week, Michael." She said tending to the small toddler that rested on her lap, playing with her ripped jeans.
Malika & Michael were the power couple, everyone envied them. They had the perfect marriage, the perfect life. Then in '94 things went down hill for them. Michael started cheating on Malika with women & she couldn't take it anymore. Their daughter, Damita was 6 months when the divorce happened. It seriously left Malika crushed & heartbroken but she had to do what was best for her.
Currently the ex couple was now arguing over their daughter. This is the part that Malika hated, Damita was always placed in the middle of everything. Malika looked down at the brown doe eyed child that resembled much of her father. She had his eyes & eye color, with a little white patch in her hair & on her forehead.
"Malika, I have told you-"
"It doesn't work like that Michael, she's with me 24/7. We have scheduled weeks & you know that."
"Da-Da." Damita cooed while playing with her rattler.
"Yes, Mita. It's your daddy on the phone."
"Let me speak to her." Michael swiftly spoke.
Malika put the phone on speaker & placed it next to Damita. Michael began speaking to her & she said some words in gibberish & a few "Da Da's" after every sentence. Malika got up to go fix Damita her favorite snack, apples slices & caramel sauce. When she returned Damita was still talking to her father. She shook her head at how much a one year old can talk someone ears off. She placed the food on the table & Damita quickly dropped the phone & ran to her snack. Malika burst out laughing because the only way to get her attention is through food.
Walking back to the sofa, she bend over to pick up the phone that Damita dropped on the floor, then sat down on the plush seat & put the phone back up to her ear.
"Daddy's princess, where are you?"
"She's eating her snacks right now." Malika informed Michael.
Their was a brief silence on the phone before he spoke up, sighing heavily. "Malika, we need to stop this. We are to grown ass adults acting like children."
"I'm not acting like nothing."
Michael sighed once again, placing the telephone on the speaker. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing the sides of his temples. He tried his hardest not to curse Malika out because in his eyes, she was acting ignorant. He looked down on his desk at the wedding picture of him & Malika dancing under the stars then at the picture of them & the day Damita was born. Flashbacks clouded his mind to where the day they filed for divorce & Malika took Damita & left. Truth was that he missed them both, but Malika even more.
Her natural curvy body that had a caramel tone to it, her luscious half plump lips, the way her curly hair ran down her back, looked even better to him when wrapped around his hand. A smile to die for, nice size boobs & butt to his liking. She wasn't a fake plastic doll walking around her, everything about her was real & natural.
"Yes you are & whether you like it or not, I'm coming over to discuss some shit with you, Malika Janelle Henderson used to be Jackson."
"No you are not." Malika retorted & gritted through her teeth.
"Malika, you want to see me just as bad as I do."
"What's its gone be, baby?" He asked in the deepest octave than his regular voice.
"Fine." Malika mumbled defeatedly to the man she once loved now hates, but still has love for him.
With that, grabbed his car keys & walked out the door of his home, rushing to his way to the ex wife's home & was determined to get her back. One way or the other.
"Don't run from me, mami."
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A/N: shaking my damn head because Malika supposed to be better than that. We cannot cave into this mans deep ass voice, even tho it makes me wanna drop my panties & throw em on his face but, anywho this is not apart of the drill.
