The plane ride back to LA from Detroit was pure hell for Marshall. He sat the entire trip, his head in his hands trying to make sense of what he had done.

There was no way around it, he had royally fucked up, not just a little, but irreversibly, end of the world, flushed down the drain and no turning back, kind of fucked up.

He didn’t think that she would be that forgiving, especially only after a week of them being exclusive. No, she wouldn’t be forgiving at all. In fact he would expect nothing less of Regina to kill him on the spot. But why on earth did he do it in the first place?

He couldn’t see her first. He couldn’t look at her and not give away what he was thinking, unfortunately she could read him too well despite the fact that he tried to keep a wall up and hide most of what he was thinking.

Marshall arrived at his hotel a day earlier than he told Regina he would be back. He needed some time to figure out what he was going to do and what he was going to tell her about his trip home to Detroit to visit Hailie. The only one who knew he was coming back earlier than he said was Dre, and he was careful not say anything to the guys, or Regina, knowing there would be hell to pay if he did.

Dre was not exactly sure why Marshall didn’t want anyone to know when he was returning, but decided to wait until he could speak to him face to face before asking any questions. When he got the call from Marshall that he was back at his hotel, he immediately invited himself over. When Marshall didn’t protest, he knew something was up.

When he entered the hotel room, Marshall was sitting on the couch, a blank stare in his eyes as he watched something on television. When he saw Dre, he merely turned off the television and threw the remote on the table.

“All right Em, what the fuck is up? I ain’t seen the scared shitless look on you for a while now,” Dre said as he sat down on the couch.

“I fucked Kim,” he said simply.

“Fucking ass,” Dre spat, turning his head quickly away in disgust. He shook his head for a full minute before he turned and said,

“What the fuck you think you doing man!”

“I don’t know!” Marshall exclaimed as he stood up, starting to pace the room.

“You have a good thing going with Regina, and now you fucked it up, damn Marshall, you just got to keep some kind of drama going don’t you! And now with the tabloids and shit. Damn man!” Dre shouted at him.

Marshall ran his fingers through his hair, knowing full well Dre was right. After Dre watched him pace for another five minutes he asked,

“So what you going to do about it then?”

“Nothing, I ain’t gonna tell her and neither are you,” Marshall said finally. This hadn’t been his first choice, he wanted to be honest with her, but she was sure that she would end it if she found out what he had done. He didn’t want to lose her. He couldn’t, not now, not when he felt that she was the closest to a sure thing he would ever find.

“Dammit man, you know what you asking me to do!” Dre said annoyed. He hated it when the guys involved him in their women problems. Fact was though, this was quite different. Most of the girls that dated Marshall he didn’t really bring around, and none of them were clients of Aftermath records, and he didn’t consider any of them his friends. Regina it seemed had barged her way into everyone’s lives and taken over. No one knew why, but everyone liked her, she was friendly towards everyone, and it seemed like she’d always been a part of their group.

“I know, but you got to do this for me man, if she finds out, she’ll leave me for sure.” Marshall replied, almost in a panic.

“Marshall, you know any other time I’d be down for you, and I’ve never gone against you man, but this ain’t right. You fucking with Reggie, and if she ever finds out,” Dre said but Marshall cut him off.

“But she ain’t gonna find out, right? You gon’ keep your mouth shut, just like you always done for me before.”

“Man, I just don’t like it. You know what’ll happen if the guys find out what you did to her. Dammit, they consider her family now, how the fuck it happened, I’m not really sure, but they do. I mean look at Proof and Bizarre, they called her up just cuz you was dancing with some other chick. They ain’t gon’ play games like this!” Dre replied, trying to keep his anger down.

He was beyond pissed at Marshall. This crap of going back and forth to Kim was gonna kill him sooner or later. He was in all honesty sick of hearing about Kim in every single one of Marshall’s songs, and quite frankly he was just plain sick of the mentioning of her. Every time Marshall fucked her again, he got the idea in his head that maybe they could be a family again. But that never worked, and the tabloids always found out.

The tabloids, if they got a hold of this, there would be serious hell to pay. Not only from the press, but Regina was a whole other force to deal with. Her temper was even worse than Marshall’s and they couldn’t deal with his. Dre knew if Regina heard through the media that Marshall had cheated on her, not only Marshall would get it, but he would too.

“You fucked man, that’s it. You is just fucked.” Dre said after a few minutes.

“It’s not like I did it on purpose.” Marshall mumbled.

“Oh what, you tripped and your dick landed in her ass, damn Marshall. When you gon’ get it through your head, you two are finished!”

“That wasn’t what happened. I got totally fucked up, drunk off my ass, and when I woke up the next morning I was in bed with her. I didn’t want it to happen, I swear.”

“Well, then you figure out what you need to do. I can’t tell you what to do about it. But I’ll keep my mouth shut.” Dre replied as he stood.

“Thanks man, I owe you,” Marshall said giving him the handshake.

“Yeah, whatever. See you later,” Dre left without another word, leaving Marshall with his guilty conscience.

The next morning Regina stopped by. Marshall had told her he would be arriving early in the morning and wanted to see her as soon as he got in.

However when she arrived he wasn’t anywhere in sight. Figuring that he was tired from his flight, she checked the bedroom, but he wasn’t in bed. She heard something coming from the bathroom and when she got close enough, she found him with his head hanging over the toilet bowl.

“Oh baby, what’s the matter?” she asked as she dropped her stuff outside the door. The only response he made was the sound of vomit hitting the water. Regina went to the sink and filled a glass of water for him before going to check on him.

“I’m glad to see you,” he said weakly, once he picked his head up. His skin was pale, he’d obviously been sick all night.

“Me too. How long you been like this?” she asked as she reached out and rubbed his back.

“Since last night,” it was the truth, he’d been vomiting like a dog every couple of hours since around midnight. He didn’t know what it was, but he’d been drained of energy and could hardly hold himself up. He was lucky had he’d been able to get to the bathroom on time.

“Oh baby boy, I’m sorry,” she cooed as she rubbed his back and his head. Her touch instantly soothed him. The pain in his stomach lessened slightly. He felt another wave of nausea hit him and he retched again. Regina stayed by him, kneeling at his side, rubbing his back until he stopped. She got him a wash cloth and handed him the water to rinse his mouth out.

“You all right for now?” she asked as she continued to rub his back. He nodded slowly and flushed the toilet.

“Yeah, I just, just don’t think I can get up,” he replied.

“All right, hang on, I’ll help you.” Marshall got up on his knees and Regina pulled his arm over or her shoulder and lifted him from the floor. He swayed a few times, but she put a hand on his chest and held him up as she drug him along.

“You don’t have to stay here, and take care of me, I’m fine,” he said after a few minutes.

“Baby, you can’t even make it to the bed by yourself. How you going to take care of yourself?” she asked. They were about halfway to the bed when another fit hit him and he vomited all down Regina’s front.

“Aw man, I’m sorry,” he muttered, completely embarrassed. Here he was, thirty-two years old, vomiting on her like he was a little kid. He wished this shit would just kill him and get it over with.

“Don’t worry about it, you couldn’t help it. Let’s just get you to bed and then I’ll clean you up.” Marshall hadn’t even noticed how much sick he’d gotten on himself as well, and was even more embarrassed at that.

Regina helped him the rest of the way to the bed and sat him so that he couldn’t fall over, leaning against the headboard.

“I’ll be right back,” she said as she hurried back to the bathroom. She returned with a fresh towel and glass of water, letting him wipe off his face and rinse out his mouth.

“Reggie, go take care of yourself, really, I can change my own clothes,” he replied as he tried to stand up.

“Nothing doing, you just stay right there, a little vomit never hurt nobody.” Regina replied. She went to his bag and pulled out a clean beater and sweat pants, hurrying over and stripping him of the sicked clothes. He felt strange. No one had ever taken care of him like this. His mom certainly had never given a shit if he had been sick, and never any of the women he’d ever been with considered coming near him if he’d been sick.

Regina gently dressed him, pulling the beater over his head and helping him on with his pants. Once she had him dressed again and sitting against the headboard she asked,

“You okay for a couple minutes, I’ll be right back?” he nodded. She grabbed the dirty clothes and headed for the bathroom, taking her bag with her to change. She returned a few minutes later, in clean clothes and a bottle of cleaner to take care of the rug. She then got the essentials, some water, another clean towel and a garbage can, just in case.

“Here, suck on this,” she said handing him a small white candy.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s a mint, it’ll make your stomach feel better, I promise.” Regina replied as he touched his forehead and his face. He did as he was told and a minute later she crawled into the bed beside him. She patted her lap as she said,

“Come on, lay down, I know you’re tired.” Marshall nodded and rested his head on her thighs, putting his arms around her waist. Almost immediately he felt better. She began stroking his head and back immediately.

“I’m sorry I threw up on you,” he said pathetically. She chuckled softly, her fingers running through his hair.

“Now shush. Don’t worry about it. I spent an entire weekend taking care of four kids with the stomach flu. This is nothing. Just rest,” she replied.

He lay there thinking, “this must be a mistake. She can’t really be here, and wanting to take care of a guy who throws up all over her.”

“And even if you puke on me again, I’ll still be happy that you’re here with me, so that I can take care of you, rather than have you far away,” she said, as if answering the question that he hadn’t asked.

This was surreal. He now felt even worse than ever about what he’d done.

He kept his eyes closed and felt his stomach ease as her fingers brushed along his forehead and the back of his neck. She started to hum, in low dulcet tones, sending him drifting into sleep.

When he woke the next the morning, Regina was still there. Her hands remained on his body, holding him, touching him, staying with him. He was floored. No one had ever done anything that nice for him, ever.

He turned over on his back and found Regina smiling down at him.

“Hi baby boy, feeling any better?” she asked as she cupped his face.

“Yeah, since you got here,” he replied, feeling guiltier by the minute about what he was doing to her, lying to her.

“Well that’s good. You know, I missed you so much, that I couldn’t fall asleep until you called me. I was like a goofy teenager or something.” She laughed.

“I couldn’t sleep either, without talking to you. You’re like a damn drug, I’m fucking addicted.” He laughed, but it hurt to laugh because his stomach was sore from convulsing so hard. She saw him cringe and put a hand to his stomach, gently moving it in circles.

“Any better?” she asked softly.

“Mm,” he nodded as he drifted into thought.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I got to tell you something, and I don’t think you’re going to be too happy about it.” He replied. At least this way, she might feel a little sorry that he was sick and not hit him too hard. Maybe there wouldn’t be any blood, at least.

“What’s that baby boy?” she asked with a smile. God, why did she have to smile at him? Like that? Now of all times?

He swallowed hard.

“I slept with Kim, when I went to Detroit.” He said quickly, waiting for the news to sink in and her hand to ball up in a fist. She merely smiled at him.

“So? I slept with Benny while you were away, we’re even.” Marshall pulled himself up quickly, ignoring the pain it caused in his stomach.

“You what!” he screamed.

“Yeah, he came over to the apartment, he was really sorry about the way he acted and well, you know what happens.” Regina said shrugging her shoulders.

“You mean to tell me, that I go away, for one fucking week, and you go back to that asshole! Who cheated on you, and hit you for Christ’s sake!”

Marshall was pacing the length of the bedroom now, muttering threats and curses about Benny.

Regina sat back and watched him pace for about five minutes as he muttered about killing Benny, when he turned to her and shouted,

“You, I can’t fucking believe this! One fucking week! And of all people, I never thought,” Regina cut him off.

“Marshall, are you listening to yourself?” he stopped and noticed the queer look on her face.

“It’s kind of funny. You see, just the other day, I was sitting at home minding my own business, when I get this phone call. From a, oh lets just say, Kim Fredan, formerly, Kim Mathers. Who tells me that you are coming home, a day earlier than you originally told everyone, and that you, had concocted this great little scheme to test me, to see how jealous I would get. And if her ex-husband, even tried to say he slept with her, not to believe it, because he shouldn’t be messing a good thing up.” Marshall’s face got paler with each word she spoke.

“I uh,” he stammered. She got out of the bed and walked up to him, standing directly in front of him, starring into his eyes. Her eyes were not forgiving.

“Exactly what Kim said you would say. So Marshall, what do you have to say for yourself?” She put her hands on her hips and looked at him hard.

“Uh, sorry?” he said lamely. Her hand grabbed his beater and dragged him forward, holding his face an inch away from hers.

“You even think about lying to me about anything, again, and I find out, I will make your life miserable. Now get your fucking ass ready, we have the debate to get to. And just to let you know, cause you gonna ask, I didn’t fuck Benny.” She let his shirt go and went to get her stuff.

He sat down at the bed and just shook his head, hard. Damn, she was good. She had his number. He laughed slightly. He couldn’t have been happier that she had threatened him, and even happier that he knew that she hadn’t really fucked around.