“Hey, baby,” he mumbled, walking past me into the bedroom. I followed behind him and sat on the bed as he opened the closet and pulled out his suitcase.
“What that foul” I asked, taking the suitcase out of his hands.
He looked at me like I’d just asked the craziest question.
“You’re not leaving me, Derrick. I love you too much to let you leave me.”
“Look, Jazz, I’m not a lawyer. I’m the furthest thing from a lawyer.” I could see he was embarrassed.
“I know, and I don’t care if you’re not a lawyer. You lied to impress me? Well, baby, I’m impressed. Not with you being a lawyer, but with you as a man. I love you, Derrick. I just want to be with you.” I walked over and placed my arms around him.
“Jasmine, I love you, too.” He hesitated before continuing. “But baby, I’m a hustler, a drug dealer. When you first met me I was leaving my lawyer’s office trying to beat a possession charge. My lawyer asked me to do him a favor and mail a package.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked. For some stupid reason, I never even imagined that he could possibly be a drug dealer. I suppose the tons of cash he always carried should have tipped me off, but I was blinded by my love for this man. He always seemed so mature, nothing like those rough-neck gangbangers whose pants hung halfway down their backsides. I looked up at him. Nothing about him said “drug dealer.”
“Our whole relationship is built on a lie, Jasmine.” He reached for the suitcase.
“That’s not true. Our relationship is built on love.” I felt compelled to reassure him of my love. So without thinking or caring I said, “If you’re a drug dealer, Derrick, then so be it Just make sure you’re the boss and not some unimportant street-corner gangbanger. Be the best drug dealer you can be, ’cause I don’t want my man to be anything but the best” I could see the shock on his face as I pulled him onto the bed. We made love right there, sealing a relationship that would end up with Derrick spending three years of his life behind bars and me traveling up every weekend to see him.