𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬: 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐊𝐇𝐈

01. | F U N E R A L C I R C U S

C H A P T E R | O N E
FUNERAL CIRCUS

𝙳 𝙴 𝚂 𝚃 𝙸 𝙽 𝙸  𝙼 𝙴 𝙺 𝙷 𝙸

      FIVE KIDS. Five, supposedly, biological kids. That's what Carter left me behind in this world when he died. Honestly, those other two didn't even matter in my world because they weren't given to him by me like they should have been - - seeing as how I was Carter's legal wife under common law New York state jurisdiction for a little over eight years up until his death.

Both of them knew that too, and every chance humanly possible I wanted to make sure that they never forgot it - - I WAS AND WILL ALWAYS BE MRS. CARTER RYAN MEKHI, point blank. And as his wife I saw it fit that neither of them even saw the steps of the venue where we had Carter's funeral; those two home-wrecking bitches weren't his family and neither were those two bastard children of theirs. Maybe Carter claimed them but not me - - I refused.

What they had helped to do to me and my marriage was something unforgivable, a thing that I could never excuse neither them, nor Carter for; I would forever hold that against him. After he went out and had that first baby on me by the first woman, I told myself I was done, said to myself that I'd put in too many years with Carter to be standing here looking stupid while he ran the streets and had bastard children out of wedlock when we had three beautiful little girls at home - - a family. I couldn't just stand there and watch as he made a mockery of me and the promises he had made to me, very promises that he had failed to keep. How could I ever live with that guilt and thought of knowing that I wasn't enough for him, that I didn't satisfy him?

I told myself that I had to go and that I had to take my children with me because my mama didn't raise no foolish woman; she didn't raise no doormat for a man to trample all over when he so pleased, be he my husband or not. Staying with him would have been foolish after that and I knew it and I heard my mama's advice in my head that I had been hearing for some time. So I had a choice: either be foolish and save my self from further humiliation or think with my heart and let my emotions lead me to an emotional decision.

The thing about it was that I knew Carter was running around town on me - - I seen the receipts for gifts that I'd never received, read the texts, saw the passion marks on his neck and smelled those trifling whores perfume on him when he came home to me. I just didn't think he'd be idiot enough to get one of them pregnant. So, even though I had told myself that I was out, that I was gonna bounce so quick and make him regret he ever did that to me, when I packed my bags that night - - got the kids ready too - - I couldn't do it; foolish love and memories of all the years Carter and I shared stopped me and I hated myself for it ever since. My heart and emotions won.

See, that was Carter's problem - - over indulgence - - he never got enough. Carter never got enough of hurting me and further ruining our marriage, he never got enough of making me cry sleepless nights wondering whose bed he was in and when he was coming home, and he never got enough of making me wish that I had never met him to begin with. Carter and I had known each other since I was fifteen - - he was eighteen; he was a senior in high school and I was a freshman so Carter was three years my senior.

I still remember him back then - - I remember being so impressed by him and intrigued at the same time by his magnetism and his sense of humor; he was always making jokes and being a clown back then. He had the most beautiful dark green eyes and the prettiest, friendliest, smile I had ever seen before - - Carter was absolutely gorgeous and he was an amazing artist. He always had this little habit of doodling on things wherever he went, even in his adulthood - - drawing on the corners of napkins, pieces of paper in notes he passed to me in class, and sometimes we'd go to the park and he wouldn't have any paper so I would let him sketch things with his pen onto my arm or in my palm.