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#I'M SORRY BUT I STILL CAN'T FATHOM THE FACT THAT THEY'RE PREGNANT
hattrickprincess · 9 months
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neymar got exposed for dming another ig model right after his "apology" and her comment section is full of his fanboys saying she's a whore and that she can't blame married men for dming her if she posts pics of her in revealing poses????? the girl never even said she didn't want men to dm her she specifically said she didn't want men with girlfriends/wives to dm her and they're like she likes the attention and she's only exposing him for clout. it's crazy that they can't fathom that a lot of women don't want to me some guy's mistress regardless of how rich or famous he is. i swear his tiktok fangirls who keep saying "who cares he's neymar" are setting us back so much it's killing me
you know damn well i have opinions about that.
first of all, his apology never was an apology to begin with, it was (in my opinion) either a pr move for his auction/general image or, considering how much he mentioned them, a demand by bruna's family. in said apology we have not once heard the words 'i'm sorry' which are a crucial part of an apology. it wasn't an apology. one might even consider it manipulating bruna and trying to show his 'remorse'/'good will' to save his relationship.
then, i already said that i'm convinced the people he surrounds himself with are the biggest fucking enablers ever. somebody needs to put their foot down and tell him to grow the fuck up and stop behaving like an overly horny 17 year old with no braincells who fucks half the population and fucks everyone else over. something NEEDS to change, right now. in (my estimation) 20 weeks he'll have a daughter, he needs to know how to treat women by then to raise her right. if everyone continues enabling him, nothing will happen. he fucks up and is coddled instead of lectured, told 'congratulations' instead of 'you fucked up', showered in love instead of yelled at. spoiled.
now, onto this. considering the proof she showed, he's the one to dm her so she isn't to blame, at all. we're talking about a man who follows half the female population in both brazil and france as well as a few spanish and american women while having a pregnant girlfriend. he doesn't give a shit about women. probably sees them as objects for him to have fun with, at least that's what it seems like to me. he flirts and fucks without a care in the world. if a man cheats, it's ALWAYS on him and NEVER on the woman he cheated with. yes, she might have known he's in a relationship, but if she said no, he would've slept with another woman. it's not her responsibility to make sure he stays faithful, it's his. he has a commitment to bruna, the other women do not. (maybe human decency, but oh well, i do believe one could know he has a girlfriend considering it's a public relationship but it's still not exactly the women's fault)
blaming her is just typical sexism. she's a woman, she posts revealing pictures, therefore she's a whore and was begging for it. the fact that it's her body and her choice doesn't matter. and his fans are so fucking delusional, because if they were with him, they'd get cheated on as well. it's not a bruna problem, he always does. always. it's not fine because it's neymar, it's especially bad because it's neymar. this man is setting an example for younger generations of how cheating is okay as long as you get your girlfriend to stay with you, and if this continues, we'll live in a world even shittier than it is right now. the amount of fights i've had in the past weeks trying to get stupid ass boys to understand that what neymar is doing is NOT something they should copy "because it's neymar and he's a role model" but instead do the exact opposite of. it's exhausting, and it pisses me off. a woman cheats, she's a whore and should be broken up with and all future partners should be careful. a man cheats, it's fine because he's pretty and wealthy and a role model to younger guys, and everyone's crushing on him. what the fuck.
you're so right, this is setting everything back. we're never getting anywhere as long as we keep idolising men who have no respect for women and need to be taught said respect. i'm absolutely disgusted by all of this, i could keep talking for WAY longer. what a fucking bullshit world we're living in
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xxisxxisxxis · 3 years
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Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-Nine
Words: 4.1k
Warning(s): explicit language, violence, mentions of drug abuse
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I've never seen Nikki like this. I've rarely seen him cry, I've never seen him cry sober, and I've never even known it was possible for him to let himself cry like this. 
He's sobbing an excruciatingly painful cry, head between his knees, hands in his hair. 
Is this how he felt when I was locked in the bathroom for hours, screaming and crying and wailing out sorrow after learning about him and Vanity? Helpless and shitty, knowing he'd go back and change what he did if he could but knowing that telling me that wouldn't make me feel any better? 
I don't say anything. Amber doesn't say anything. We both just let him get it all out.
Minutes later, when he starts trying to calm down, he slowly wipes his eyes and glances up at me, before he starts up again, shaking his head, hanging his head low once again. 
"Vivian," Amber says softly over him and I look at her. "Go to him." She mouths, motioning to him and I raise my brows. 
Has she lost her fucking mind? He's probably pissed and distraught enough to choke me out, right now. He probably hates me, and I don't blame him. 
"Go." She mouths, sternly, waving her hand in his direction and I take a heavy breath and slowly get out of my seat and very carefully step to him.
"Nikki," I say weakly, getting on my knees,  my shaking hand rubbing his shoulder. 
He wraps his arms around me, tight, pulling me to him, burying his face into my shoulder. 
"I'm sorry." He tells me, and I squeeze my eyes shut, squeezing him. 
"It's not your fault, Nikki, it's not your fault." I assure him, holding back my own tears. 
"Yes, it is. I'm sorry, Vivian."  He argues through his tears. 
We just hold each other, and when he calms down a little bit, Amber calmly says, "Nikki, why are you so upset over this?" 
She knows why, she just wants him to confirm. 
He pulls away from me and sniffles and I wipe his stray tears with my thumbs before reaching to her desk where she's holding out her box of tissues for me to grab. 
"Because I know it's my fault." 
"Why do you think it's your fault?"
"Because I had an affair, first, and she went to him because she was really hurt." He shakily lets out, trying to bring himself back down from his hysteria. 
"Nikki, look at your wife." Amber says to him and he looks me in the eyes, obviously struggling not to look away. "Repeat after me, alright?" 
He nods. 
"Vivian, I'm sorry." She starts and more tears topple from his eyes. 
"Vivian, I'm--" He takes a breath. "I'm sorry." 
"That I made you feel," 
"That I made you feel," 
"Like you had no other choice," 
"Like you had no other choice,"
"But to go have sex with someone else,"
"But to go have sex with someone else,"
"Despite it being no fault of my own," 
"Despite it being…" He closes his eyes and sighs, as if trying to make this part engrain into his mind, "...no fault of my own," 
"Despite you being in charge of your body and what you do with it," 
"Despite you being in charge of your body and what you do with it," 
"I am so sorry."
"I am so sorry." 
"Please, forgive me."
"Please, forgive me." 
"Now, Vivian." Amber says to me, next, and I sniffle, looking at her. "Look at your husband." 
I look at him and rub my lips together, nervously. 
"Repeat after me." She adds and I nod. "Nikki, I'm sorry." 
"Nikki, I'm sorry." 
"That I made an irrational decision," 
"That I made an irrational decision,"
"After years of hiding hurt and pain and heartbreak because of your irrational decisions,"
"After years of hiding hurt and pain and heartbreak because of your irrational decisions," 
"But this is not your fault," 
"But this is not your fault," 
"I no longer want to blame my mistakes on others,"
"I no longer want to blame my mistakes on others," 
"You did not force me to get in bed with someone else," 
"You did not force me to get in bed with someone else," 
"You just made me feel like I didn't have a choice,"
"You just made me feel like I didn't have a choice,"
"Because the pain of learning of your affair,"
"Because the pain of learning of your affair," 
"Put an irrational thought and sought out decision in my mind and I could not help myself enough to extinguish it."
"Put an irrational thought and sought out decision in my mind and I could not help myself enough to extinguish it."
"Please, forgive me."
"Please, forgive me." 
"Okay," Amber nods, her voice soothing, "Nikki, what it is that you need to tell Vivian before you two continue to work on this relationship." 
It's clear that this is something he's already discussed with her, and I wait patiently as he exhales, very, very, heavily. 
I can't imagine what it looked like from outside the door of Amber's office. If a passerby happened to peek in the small little window of the door…
"Roxy, Vanity, Donna…" I shakily state. 
I'm not in a ball, pleading with God to kill me like I was when I first found out he had dared to see another woman, but now that I know better…
"...And some others." His tears are dry now, as if he's mustering up all of his macho manliness to brace for impact when I start trying to hit him. 
"Some others?" I clench my jaw, my nails digging into his jeans where they're resting over his kneecaps and he rubs his face. 
"A few others." He says next, avoiding a definite number. 
"How many is a 'few'?" I grit out and he looks at Amber. 
"Tell her." She encourages him, sternly. 
"Nikki," 
He lets out a breath and he clears his throat. 
"If a 'few' were to have a number, about how many would it be that you've had some exchange that would be considered cheating in your wife's mind, from the time you got married to now." Amber adds. 
"Around two-hundred." He admits. 
I think he's kidding at first, over exaggerating or being sarcastic because I can't fathom sleeping with two hundred people in four years while in a supposed committed relationship. 
"You're full of shit." I let out a terrified chuckle and he closes his eyes for a second. "Seriously, Nikki, what's the number?" 
"Why does it matter? You're staying with him after one, aren't you?" Amber asks and I look at her. 
"Maybe a little more than that, maybe a little less, I didn't try to keep count." He mumbles.
"Y-You've slept with…you…" I feel a prickling, scalding heat all over my skin. 
I get myself away from him to try to calm myself down, but I can't. 
It's like putting baking soda and vinegar together. 
"Nikki, why did you do that?" Is all I can get out that isn't about how much I hate him right now. 
"The same reason you went to him. Because I felt like I didn't have any other option and I was desperate." 
"Desperate for what?!" I demand, enraged, now. 
"Vivian," Amber starts but I completely cut her short. 
"I went to Duff because I had spent years in a marriage with a junkie that did everything he could to choose drugs over me and throw me to the fucking wolves!" 
"And I spent years in a marriage to an ungrateful bitch that I couldn't ever make happy!" He snaps next, standing up. 
"I would've been plenty happy had you sobered the fuck up!" 
"You'd lay in bed for weeks at a time and refuse to take your fucking medication and then wouldn't even let me try to touch you, Vivian, and God fucking knows the times you'd actually let me try to get it in, you'd lay there like sex with me was the most boring chore in the fucking world! And the times you weren't like that, you'd still manage to watch me break my back to make you happy and then spit in my fucking face and act like it wasn't ever gonna be enough, that I wasn't ever gonna be a enough!" 
"I was depressed, Nikki!"
"Trust me, I know, I fucking know!" He shouts back. 
An ear piercing screech makes us both shut up and wince, and I see Amber holding an airhorn. 
"I don't yell." She states, a brow raised as she looks at us. "Sit down. Both of you." She orders next and we both slowly sit down, taking deep breaths. "No wonder you're in such bad shape--neither of you know how to talk to each other. You just talk at each other and start yelling when the other person gets defensive over you talking at them." She snaps, shaking her head a little. "And quit cursing at each other. That's another reason you're in this mess. You're both bitter and poisonous and contaminating each other." She adds, sternly, and we slink down in our chairs. "Vivian, he has shot you, he has strangled you, publicly humiliated you, he has chosen everything under the sun over you, but you draw the line at the fact he's had sex with two-hundred other women?" 
I don't say a word. 
"Why is that the thing that's going to break the camel's back? When you come in here pregnant with another man's baby and got him on his knees crying and telling you it's his fault?" She goes in on me. "Go from crying and boohooing together to calling each other awful names and cursing and 'eff this' and 'eff that' and 'eff you'--can I tell you something? You can't stand each other now but once upon a time you must've really liked whatever it is that drives you crazy about the other person because you chose each other and married each other." She reminds us. "And I know it isn't just the drugs that cause fights because he's completely sober today and you're jumping on him for being honest with you when there's been times he has lied through his teeth to hell and back to you." She looks at me. "And you," she looks at Nikki. "I better not hear you ever call your wife a 'bitch' again. She's not a dog, even though you love to talk to her like she is one."
Again, we're both quiet.
"Vivian, how do you feel about Nikki admitting to you that he's been unfaithful?" She asks. 
"You can't tell how I feel?" I smartly ask. 
"Screaming and cursing isn't explaining how you feel. I don't specialize in translating foolishness--I specialize in helping people heal through positive communication--not verbal abuse." She replies. "Now, how do you feel about what your husband shared with you?" 
"I'm mad." 
"Why?" 
"Because…" I feel tears come to my eyes. 
"Because why?" 
I sniffle. 
"You two talk to each other like you've never had to walk through something and communicate peacefully and calmly about a situation." She says next, handing me a tissue. 
"We haven't, really." Nikki admits while I'm occupied with trying to stop my crying. 
"You've been together for six years, nearly seven, and you've never talked through a disagreement or bump in the road?" 
We both just avoid looking at her. 
"You just yell and scream until one of you finally gives up in the argument and drops it completely?" She asks next. 
"Basically." He says.
"Sex." I add, wiping my nose. "We usually just sleep together and then we're over whatever it is we were fighting about." I explain and she raises her brows.
"I promise you, none of it's been taken care of or gotten over. Anything you've fought about in the past that you tried to fix with sex has all been pent up and built up over the years and has been coming out within the last year, especially, in some form of abuse or neglect to the other person." She informs us. "And that's why you're so angry." She tells me. "Because that is a potent form of intimacy that you have on a pedestal and it's important to you. And while you've been using it over the years as a means to make things right with him, and to try to be intimate with him and reconnect with him while he's been closed off on drugs and not himself, he's been going out and giving it away to whoever." 
I nod because it's true and she nods with me. 
"I know why he went to so many other women and we'll get to that in a moment, why did you start your relationship with the now father of your child?" She asks me calmly.
"Because I was tired." I admit, my tears finally subsiding. "And I was hurt, and I just needed to be with someone who wouldn't hurt me."
"You needed someone who would protect you." 
"Yes." I agree, sniffling. 
"There's a theme that keeps reoccurring with you and it's overexposure and need of protection," She tells me and I nod, "Which is typically what fathers are in charge of in the household so tell me what your dad was like while you were growing up." She says and I lick my lips, smiling, thinking of my dad. 
"The best dad in the world. He'd help me get ready for recitals if my mom couldn't, he'd take me anywhere I needed to go, he'd help me sneak things past my mom like records or clothes she wouldn't approve of or whatever, he'd be there if I needed to talk about anything--with no judgement--he was really good to me, and he still is." I tell her and she nods, smiling. 
"What I'm about to say isn't meant to belittle all the wonderful things he's done for you or undermine the work he's put in to raising you the best he could, but with your incredibly abrasive mother," she starts, "would he ever step in when she was tearing you down or would he just try to keep the peace?" 
"He did a couple times but for the most part he'd just tell me to ignore her and wouldn't start anything with her while she was doing it." 
"So he didn't protect you when he should have?" 
I stop for a moment, and look at her, pointedly. 
"I'm not saying he didn't love you or care for you and didn't look out for you--but when it came to your mother, did he or did he not do everything he could to protect you from her mental, spiritual, and emotional abuse?" 
"No." I breathe out shakily. 
"So you went from a father who didn't protect you and allowed you to be exposed to things you should not have been exposed to, to a husband who didn't protect you and allowed you to be exposed to things you should not have been exposed to." 
I nod again. 
"Do you know why he's had sex with so many women?" 
I shake my head. 
I don't think, "because he hates me," would be an acceptable answer. 
"Do you know why you've had sex with that many women while you were with Vivian?" She asks Nikki and he thinks about it for a second. 
"...I was bored." He says and she chuckles humorlessly. 
"Just a second ago you were throwing in her face that you went where you were going to feel appreciated. So put your ego aside." She states, furrowing her brows. "'I did the drugs because I was bored, I slept with all those women because I was bored, I put my wife through a living hell because I was bored'." She mimics so he can see how he sounds when he says it. "I don't think the man sitting here, crying over his wife getting pregnant with another man, had sex with one other woman, let alone two-hundred just because he was bored." She states, matter of fact. "Put this tough guy persona away and just be honest." 
He gets really quiet, his leg shaking as his foot taps. 
"Do you know the situation with his mother?" She asks me, suddenly. 
"I know the gist of it, he hasn't told me much about it." I tell her and she looks at him. 
"You expect your wife to understand why you do the things you do but you don't give her the information to piece together why you are the way you were brought up to be." She tells him. "We're out of time, but at some point before we meet again on Saturday, I want you to talk about your relationship with your mother." She says and he nods, hesitantly.
I look at him and can't bring myself to even say goodbye to him before I'm getting up and leaving. 
I can barely make it to my car without nearly tripping, tears clouding my vision. 
I get inside and hold my chest, feeling as if my heart is breaking all over again. 
Neither of us know each other anymore. I don't recognize him, not even sober, and I know he doesn't recognize me. 
Is this even worth it after all we've done to each other?
I wrinkle my nose slightly as I put my big toe up the bathtub's water faucet, expecting a big spider or something to bite me. 
Dropping my foot back into the water, I let out a breath. 
I've been sitting in luke warm water that was hot once upon a time. 
Now my skin's pruned and I'm waiting to get the motivation to just get up. 
It's the first attempt at self-care in two days and it's only because Nikki's been wanting to fool around and I haven't felt like it. 
I'm hoping being clean helps me feel like it. 
There's two knocks at the bathroom door before he's barging in, giving me a smile that brings his dimples to life. 
"I have food in the kitchen whenever you get out." He tells me, stepping to the tub, sitting on the edge of it. 
"I'll be there in a little bit." I assure him. 
"That's what you said an hour ago, Vivian." He reminds me harmlessly and I look at him and force myself to smile a tad. 
"Oh." I reply. 
There's a pause between us and he rubs the back of his neck. 
"Vivian, are you okay?" He asks, and I look up at him, forcing myself not to cry, and nod. 
"I'm fine, baby," I lie. "Just tired is all." 
"Still? You've been in bed for, like, nearly three days." He points out. 
"I'm just tired, Nikki." I repeat in the same tone, trying to sound convincing. 
He's not buying it, and when drops of tears push past my lashes, I know I'm no longer selling it. 
"I think maybe you need to get back on your medication." He suggests very quietly, as if saying it too loud is going to cause me to have a meltdown. 
"I don't need to be on it." I argue, wiping my eyes, sniffling and trying to force myself to stop crying.
"Vivian, you're not fucking happy."
"You don't know that." 
"I know when you're happy and when you're not." He points out…"Do I need to get you something or buy something or--"
"--I don't want anything, Nikki." I state.
"Well, I do." He informs me. "I wanna see my wife happy, again, genuinely happy. Not that fake bullshit you put on for me." He clarifies. "So, just--"
"--Get out." I say, shutting him down, not wanting to hear about it. 
He rolls his jaw and nods, getting up and leaving. 
He's back with a glass of water and my bottle of Nardil, putting them both on the side of the tub and standing over me to make sure I take it like he wants me to. 
I look at him, hurt, my brows furrowing, my eyes cutting at him, anger coursing through me as more tears topple down my cheeks and tense up.
"Get out." I repeat. 
"I'm not leaving until you stop being stubborn and take the damn--"
The water is slung at him while the glass is thrown at the mirror as, "get out!" Screeches out of my throat as I open the bottle and try to ring it in the toilet, sending pills flying in all directions while the bottle with a majority of the pills plops into the water all while I'm repeatedly screeching, "get out, get out, get out!" as tears sting my cheeks. 
"Vivian, fuck--" 
I'm hauling myself out of the tub and he avoids my violent intent by finally leaving, slamming the door behind him, and I slip and catch myself on the door knob, making sure to lock it as waves of weight push me to the floor, my chest hurting, my body aching, my spirit crying out to God for mercy.
I should have told him then about my recurrent miscarriages, I just didn't know how to. I just let myself take it and deal with it on my own and he took it as me being batshit crazy and depressed. I was, truthfully, but I had reason to be. I struggled with my medication because I didn't want to have to take a pill to be happy, but I was also beginning to think it was ruining my body and skewering each pregnancy. It wasn't, but I didn't know that, so I'd take it for a while, wean myself off, and ease back into it whenever I felt like I needed to through the years. I don't think I ever went a full complete year without purposely getting myself off of it at least once.
I shut my car door as I get out, raising my brow at the site of Duff's car in my driveway, stepping to the front door. 
I haven't heard anything from him. 
Which I've been prepared not to. I can play the kid off as Nikki's if I have to.
He didn't say anything yesterday when I told him I was pregnant. I mean, literally, nothing. 
I sat for twenty minutes just waiting for him to try to discuss it but all he did was sit and stare off into space, his face ghost white while Mandy excused herself to their room and probably cried the rest of the night. 
I guess he's got something to say, now. 
I go inside, putting my kids on the little table next to the door, kicking my heels off and carrying them in my hand. 
I turn the light on when I get out of the foyer, and see Duff passed out on the couch. 
He's got a vodka bottle tucked under his arm and put my stuff down and go over to him, taking the bottle away before he spills it on the couch. 
He takes in a breath, waking up and rubbing his eyes. 
"Hey, Viv," he tells me, sitting up the best he can, trying to pry the sleep from his eyes. 
I sit on the coffee table across from him, sighing out. 
"Hey, Duff," I reply, looking at him.
"What time is it?" He asks me, next. 
"Four o'clock." I inform him. 
"Oh," he mumbles, being quiet for another moment. "You look pretty." He says next and I smile a little. 
"Yeah?" 
"Yeah." He chuckles. "Which I guess that's what got us into this mess in the first place." He adds. "Well, not you being pretty--just me being a dumbass." He slurs, taking a deep breath. 
"Is Mandy okay?"
"Yeaaaah, she's not too happy with me right now." He admits. "I never told her about me and you when we got back together." 
"Oh." I say. 
"Oh." He repeats. 
"You know, Duff, you don't have to do all this…" I start, rubbing my lips together. "...If you're not comfortable with trying to make this work--because it's pretty unconventional--I'm not gonna be upset with you." 
"I had a shitty dad who left my mom to deal with bullshit she shouldn't have had to deal with by herself and I'm not doing that to you. That's fucked up. I did the crime, I can do the time." He states, tiredly. 
"I'm not gonna be by myself," I remind him, "Nikki's upset but he's not disowning me or anything." I add and he scoffs. 
"Of course he isn't." He sighs. "I think Mandy's still gonna stay with me. She hasn't thrown out her ring, so…" 
"Her ring?" I ask him, furrowing my brows. 
"I asked her to marry me yesterday morning." He informs me. 
"Oh, wow, tha-that's great, Duff." 
Was it completely stupid for him to propose to Mandy not even seven weeks after we broke up? Absolutely. Was it completely stupid of him to marry her three months later? Absolutely. Was I going to piss on his parade more than I already had? Absolutely not.
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