Monday, November 20, 2017

Chapter 9: What If You're Over My Sh*t?

Dwayne Rivera shared Charles Babbit’s post.
Friday at 8:22 PM * Chicago, IL

Yo!  I don’t care what you say, this shit is real!

TO: Rachel Isles
SUBJECT: You again. Last Night.
What's the problem, Rachel? I called you last night, and you pushed me to voicemail. What now?
Marc


TO: Marc Isles
SUBJECT: You again. Last Night
I went to LA to visit Vivian and Sean. The three of us ended up meeting up with Trev and Barbie. It was too loud at the comedy club to hear you.
Rachel


TO: Rachel Isles
SUBJECT: You again. Last Night.
Oh, you went to a comedy show?
Marc


TO: Marc Isles
SUBJECT: You again. Last Night.
I did.
Rachel


TO: Rachel Isles
SUBJECT: You again. Last Night.
Just checked Vivian's blog. You liked good last night, without your ring.
Listen, I’m sure you’re trying to drive me crazy. For some reason you want me to pour my heart out to you every day. Rachel, you and I are married. I don’t understand this need for confirmation every day. If I didn’t want to be with you, I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me. I wouldn’t have made a home for us. I wouldn’t be here in Seattle trying to make it happen for us. I wouldn’t call you to check in. I wouldn’t have had a child with you. So I don’t understand this insecurity you have when it comes to me.
You’re beautiful. I know this. You’re smart. I know this too. I know that men are attracted to you. That’s a given. You don’t have to make me jealous by pushing me to voicemail or not wearing your wedding ring.
I get it.
Marc


TO: Marc Isles
SUBJECT: You again. Last Night.
Here you go with the looks again. That’s all this marriage is about to you. What does it look like? Does it look like Rachel and I are successful? Because if we appear successful, then Marc is doing something right. He doesn't have to be a dope boy to own a condo in San Fran and a townhome in LA. Or own a Benz or a Range Rover.
Marc didn't marry a girl from ‘around the way' he married someone different. Someone better. Their life is better. His life is better. This marriage and our life are all about you and the street cred it gives you. But this is the thing, Marc: you don't make investments in this marriage. You show up for it, but you don't come to practice.
And so now that I've decided that I'm not going to sit in San Fran and wait for you to come home to Janie and me, you've got a problem with it. Now that you see that I'm not going to wear my wedding ring and pretend to be happily married, now you ‘get it.' Did you get it when I was alone last weekend, expecting your arrival on Friday night, just for you to text me on Friday afternoon and say that you couldn't make it?
Do you expect me to just sit in San Fran and wait for you? Do you expect me to sit around and wait for a call from you each night? Do you want to know how many times you called me last week? Three times. There are seven days in a week, and you called me three times. And then you call me at night when you know I can't talk for long because I'm a teacher and I have to get up at 5 in the morning to make it to school at 7.
Why the FUCK do you call me so late, knowing that I have shit to do in the morning?
You want me to wait in San Fran for you to maybe show up? No. Never again.
Last week you said to me ‘Rachel, you have problems, ' and you're right Marc, I do. My problem is THIS OBSESSION I HAVE WITH YOU.
I think about you all the time. I wonder what you’re working on or if you’re really even working. I wonder who you’re with… more now than ever. Before, when I used to ask you about other women, it was because I know you’re an LA boy to the bone. You love those ratchet ass LA women with all of their wigs and big ass booties. And you do know they’ve had surgery on their waists to get it that tiny, right? And do you honestly think that nipples just poke right out at you, once you hit thirty?

You do know that those LA girls want you because you are Marc Isles, of the legendary Isles family? You’re Marc Isles, the one who made it out of LA, and now lives on a San Franciscan hill with a shit load of money.
See, you married me for a reason; you had goals, and you couldn't accomplish them with a girl from Elysian Fields. So, now that you've seen me on Vivian's blog, in LA and having fun, you're starting to panic. Aren't you? Don’t you ruin this for me, Rachel! I picked you for a reason! I didn’t even like you! But you were useful and now that I’ve almost made it, now that it's almost showtime, here you go about to fuck it up for me! You have one job to do, and that's to be the San Fran girl I reluctantly married!
You know, Marc. I just might move to LA. I don’t know… Vivian’s there. Sean’s there. The only reason I stayed in San Fran after college was because you started your business here. But, now that you’re no longer here, I think I may just move to LA. How does that make you feel?
Rachel


TO: Rachel Isles
SUBJECT: You again. Last Night.
Answer your phone, Rachel.
Marc


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