The Hand I Was Dealt

By Latoya Wiley

After being together since 9th grade; Darwin and Sabir have faced many challenges. Now adults, neither will be ready for what awaits them with Sabir's new found fame as the new Heavy Weight Champion of The World. Their relationship must compete with groupies, fame, and pride...all while keeping a clean image for the public. Secrets will be exposed and both will be forced to play the hand they were dealt.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9781543964394

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 by Latoya Wiley.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

Book Cover designed by EDZ Art.

Self Published with Live on Purpose, LLC.

Manufactured in United States of America.

ISBN: 978-1-54-396439-4

All rights reserved worldwide.

Acknowledgments

First and foremost, I would like to thank God. In the process of putting this book together, I realize the power of words and how therapeutic writing can actually be. Thank you for putting this story on my heart and choosing me to tell a story that can help others.

Next, I want to thank my mother Renee Wiley for always reminding me that chances make champions. Thank you Mommy for always having my back when others doubted me. Thank you for reading this story first and pushing me to share my writing with the world. Although, you’re not here to share this moment with me, I know you are in heaven partying for me, saying, My daughter is a published author. That’s my baby! R.I.P Mommy.

I want to thank my dad Nolan Goldie Clark, for always being a source of excitement to my world; a Kool -Aid smile that turns any rainy day sunny. Thank you for being the best dad that any girl could ask for. You are a true definition of a great father!

Finally, I want to thank my brother Kyle ‘Chops’ Brantley for always reminding me to chase my dreams. Love you big bro and continue resting in peace.

Table of Contents

Introduction

The Beginning

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Unbreakable Love

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Communication

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Secrets

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Game Over

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Stronger

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

About the Author

Introduction

Loving a Black man (brotha) is hard at times. Sometimes, they allow their pride to get in the way of doing what is right.  I’m referring to that Black brotha who never wants to ask for help knowing that he needs it. Yet, again his pride doesn’t allow him to accept any help. Other brothas have a past that they simply can’t let go because they must prove something to the world. Hell, and then some brothas don’t realize what they have in their women until it’s too late.  Let’s not forget the one who realizes what he has, but just wants to be greedy. Some brothas cheat and then expect for a woman to forget the shit they do because they have used these simple words: ‘I’M SORRY AND IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN.’ But then there’s that loving brotha who absolutely does nothing wrong—he cares for his family and lives the American Dream. All I can say is LOVING A BLACK MAN (BROTHA) IS HARD!

Meet Darwin

Let me introduce myself, my name is Darwin Renee Walker. Yet to the world for a long time, my name was Sabir’s fat ass baby mom or wife. I was named after some old scientist who supposedly had the answer on how to maneuver through life.

Let me break it down to you, I am a young Black woman who has made many mistakes and yet I am still standing.  Momma said, I would have been a great lawyer if I would have stuck to the plan that she had set out for me— school, work, then off to Spelman College. I guess I really disappointed her. Daddy said I had what it takes to make it big in Hollywood with my outgoing personality. I don’t know which parent was right or which path I should have taken. Yet, one thing is sure… I should not have ended up here. I’ve never been a math genius, but I am certain that all the money in the world cannot buy happiness and most certainly cannot erase all of the pain that I have endured throughout my life. The best way to sum up what I am trying to say is to refer to DMX’s lyrics’-  He says, to live is to suffer, but to survive…well that’s to find meaning in the suffering.

The Beginning

Chapter 1

When I traveled to San Diego, it was supposed to be a vacation; however it sure didn’t feel like it. I’d rather have kept my ass home in bed. I had the worst flight from Philadelphia to San Diego between children crying, TSA giving me a hard time, and to make matters worse, I almost lost my damn plane ticket. That was not the type of day a pregnant woman wanted to have (whose feet were swollen). And my nipples were extremely sore. After this type of day, I didn’t care to sightsee. I just wanted to be alone, sleep, and then spend time with my fiancé, Sabir (in that order).  Who by the way, had me blindfolded from the time we left the airport.

Baby, hurry up my eyes are beginning to stick together, stomping my feet anxiously waiting as my fiancé held my hand. I was blindfolded for nearly 45 minutes.

Watch your step, Sabir whispered, helping to prevent me from falling. Ky, let go of mommy’s hand! My son gently let go of my hand and my stomach started to bubble up, as if I was at the top of a cliff about to be pushed over.

1…, 2…3… SURPRISE! My eyes were free from the blindfolds. My mouth dropped to the floor. I was speechless. I saw a beautiful home. Something we would have never seen in the hood back in Philly. Each house on the block had a driveway and perfectly cut green grass.

This is our new home, Sabir said with a grin.

WHAT? I screamed, jumping up in the air like a kid gone wild in the candy store almost forgetting I was four months pregnant.

Mommy, you hear that? This is our new home. Ky said, smiling ear-to-ear looking like his father’s twin.

Baby, thanks you are the best! I said as I kissed Sabir in his mouth. Once inside, Sabir took it upon himself to take us on a tour of our new home. After walking around, I became more impressed with the house; it felt right.

Sa, how many rooms are in this house?

Umm…four, not including your own personal office.

I have an office?

I felt like Sabir somehow understood that getting a degree in either Political Science or Journalism had always been a dream of mine. All the excitement caused my baby to begin leaping in my belly.

Our baby girl is trying to say daddy you’re the best.

We both began laughing at the fact that we were pretending our future daughter could talk. I was so excited

with the news that I didn’t realize that meant no more Philly for me.

No more Philly, Baby Girl. Who would have ever thought we were going to make it out? I backed away to show Sabir that I wasn’t sure if I was ready to leave Philly behind.

Sabir, what about my family? I asked, folding my arms like a spoiled toddler who was not getting their way.  I was not ready to make such a huge move.

Dar, what family? The same family who put you out with my son in the rain and the same family who said you weren’t going to be shit because you had a baby at 15-years-old. My mother and I had a complicated relationship, during this time in my life. At 16-years old, my mother put me out of her house saying that I needed to learn how to fend for my child— just as her mother made her do with my brother. Honestly, I didn’t believe that my grandma did such a thing. My grandma was all about family (at least the grandma that I knew). There was never a time that my grandma wasn’t there for her children and grandchildren.

My mother had two sides to her: she was an evil bitch when she was high; yet very loving and like a soccer mom, wanting the best for her children when she was sober. Either way, she still didn’t cut me any slack. At times, I thought my mother hated me for reasons that I was unaware of. She punished me for mistakes that I had yet to make in my life. Damn, when I thought of my mother so many emotions began to surface.  Hmmm, I could go on and on, but I want to get back to Sabir who wanted me to move.

OKAY! smacking my two hands together while raising my voice, Sa-bi-r, at the end of the day they are still my family no matter what we have been through.

Dar, Sabir took a deep breath cutting me off before grabbing my left hand, Baby, I want to start a new life with you and our kids.  This boxing shit is going to change our lives. If you’re not on board, then this shit is not going to work. With another deep breath, he said, Baby girl, as long as we are in Philly and around our families, we are going to end up like they are; fucked up in life. I hate to admit, but Sabir was right; both of our families were stuck in the hood. And I mean stuck.

Sa, what is there for me to do out here in San Diego while you’re at the gym?

Baby girl, all you need to do is live.

Sabir was a boxer who went pro after about 16 fights with 14 knockouts. He was no question the new ‘Mike Tyson’ of his generation. However, he damn sure didn’t have Mike Tyson’s money, so I wondered where the house came from. I didn’t know much about boxing then, but what I did know is that it took time for money to start rolling in. Yet, I decided to hold off with questioning. One thing my mother taught me was to never question your man’s paper. If he’s providing, you keep smiling. Shit that may have been the only thing my mother taught me that I could agree with her on.

…

My life turned completely around—all in a span of approximately 24 hours. We went from living in a one bedroom apartment that I paid the rent for and barely had enough clothes or food to last us for an entire month to moving to San Diego in a new big house.  Things were so bad at times in Philly that I hated hanging with any of my girlfriends because they had it all and I was struggling.

Sabir and I had always made decisions together; so me not knowing anything about this move bothered me. After doing some jail time and meeting his trainer Matt, Sabir decided to take boxing seriously.  Even that was a decision that we made together. I never thought boxing would be our golden ticket out of the hood.

Baby, did you see your walk-in closet? Sabir asked as he opened the spacious closet to provide me with a full view of how much space I had for clothes (that I didn’t yet own). Although the closet was not the biggest closet in the world, it was most definitely an upgrade from our 1 bedroom apartment in Philly. Closing the closet doors, I turned to Sabir, who was all smiles.

Baby, I’m going to ask you this one time and one time only. Sa, how did you get enough money to get this house?

Everything my mom taught me about never questioning your man went out the window.  Sometimes a woman needs to protect herself by knowing the truth. Sabir was born to a pimp and dope fiend. Therefore, he was capable of just about anything. Sabir made a funny face as if my question threw him off.

Well while you were back at home in Philly stressing about paying next month’s rent; I was taking bets to knock niggas out, and going for a shot at the heavyweight title, so we can have a better life.

Sa, when did your ass start gambling?

Laughing like a kid who just heard a joke, When shit gets tight you will be surprised what you will do. Pulling me closer towards him, to see you smile I would rob and kill a nigga to see that smile you had when you saw this place. Baby, yes this is ours.

As Sabir spoke everything began to make sense. I thought he robbed somebody for a second, knowing his history of robbing people, which led him to many different detention centers by age 14.

So, let me try this again and this time I stared Sabir directly in his eyes as if I was looking for an answer he didn’t have. This house is legally ours? No sheriff officers will come here with an eviction notice for us to leave? I could tell he was becoming annoyed with my questions, but I needed to know.

Yes, Dar it is ours… ok? You are tripping.  All I want you to do is relax like the queen you are. I want to start a life out here before we both get fucked over by the streets. I agreed with him on that because the streets destroyed my parents’ marriage.

Sabir, I love you so much and nothing will destroy us, leaning in to give him a big juicy kiss. I decided to tour the house alone that way I could wrap my head around the whole idea of moving out here and leaving my family behind. The more I walked around this house, the more I was feeling the idea of leaving Philly.