Oh Lord, Help Me Keep My Panties on - By Lynda Burton Page 0,18
mother Angie has been giving me hell lately about Jayden, and I’m not comfortable calling you anywhere around her. Angie still thinks that she can hold on to me, and I think its best,” Jordan whispered. I was shocked, no, how about stunned, that was probably the most he’s ever said about his ex-girlfriend. When I tried to talk to Jordan about his ex-girlfriend in the beginning of our relationship, he would always change the subject. But he did mention that she was supposed to have had her tubes tied, sterile, or some physical problem, then boom . . . there’s Jayden! She didn’t even call him at the apartment, at least not when I was around. I didn’t want to stress him out, so I let it go. But deep down inside in the pit of my stomach I could feel an uneasy churn.
Okay, it’s December 26, and I’ve got to wait one more day I said to myself. This was the day that he did the daddy thing and hopefully not the: we are family thing. I went the whole day without hearing from Jordan, and it was making me nervous. I tried to catch up on some work on my computer but couldn’t concentrate. I was fidgety, short-tempered, and just not myself so I decided to go to the spa and to get the knots out of my body. That didn’t work. So I decided to make an extra strong Cosmopolitan and curled up in bed.
The next morning, I woke up at around 10:00 AM and rushed to the airport to pick up Jordan. As he walked out of the terminal, I was standing by the car with open arms. He threw his bags in the trunk, and we stood kissing until the port authority police pulled up and asked us to leave the area. We drove to my house and spent an enchanting evening together. We played catch up for two days and was exhausted and lustfully fulfilled.
There’s nothing more rewarding than waking up to the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. Jordan is the man who satisfies my every desire, who is mentally challenging and stimulates my dreams. But deep down in the bowels of my heart I knew he was distracted by his ex-lover. I could sense that he had changed. The kisses were different, the way he held me was different, and the way we made love was different.
It was Monday morning, February 12, 2005, and the alarm had just gone off, and I hit the snooze to catch an extra fifteen minutes. Jordan nudges me and said, “Don’t you have to get up?” “Yeah, but I thought I could lie in your arms a little longer,” I said as I rolled over. I hated to get up without making love first. But this was Jordan’s first day back to work, and I knew he had to dance. Unfortunately, like athletes, sex before game time or in his case his shows are a no-no. So I slowly got up and made my way to the bathroom. I jumped in the shower and cooled my loins before I changed my mind and rushed back to the bed and seduced him.
As I stood in the shower, something came over me, and I started crying. I had a sleepless night, I tossed and turned dreaming weird dreams that I couldn’t remember. I felt as if my soul was no longer at peace, I was hurting inside. As I grabbed for the towel and dried myself off, I tried to shake that eerie feeling. Was it my sixth sense kicking in that made my hair on the back of my neck tingle and my stomach queasy? I couldn’t concentrate and I was afraid to ask why!
Just three weeks ago, Jordan came home different after his tour. No, I take that back, after visiting with his son Jayden and his ex-girlfriend. There were times when he would act distant, unresponsive, and distracted, almost like a spell was cast upon him. I didn’t want think it, to admit it, or believe it, but deep down in my heart I knew someone had come between us. His ex . . .
I couldn’t hold back, so I told Jordan about my feelings when I came out of the bathroom. Jordan walked over to me and asked me to sit on the side of the bed with him. Then he told me something that would shatter my