Prince's Perspective

"The very first time that I saw your brown eyes and you said hello and I said hi, I knew right then you were the one..."

How did we get here?

Not even seventy-two hours before I watched Jazz' heart literally break before my eyes, I handed papers over to Mayte saying I had filed a petition for divorce, for real this time. Back in December I had annulment papers written up, but I was later told that wasn't the right way to do it if a child was conceived during the marriage. As pissed off as she was, I left Marbella with weight off my shoulder. That was the last time I'll ever go to that house.

Even though the divorce proceedings are in the early stages, I knew there were no reasons why it should be long and drawn out. I might've been jumping the gun, but I already had spoken to a jeweler in Minneapolis about customizing an engagement ring for Jazz. I was ready to get down on one knee, make this woman my world and adopt Noah, and then I come home and see that shit on national TV.

Let's go back for a minute. Back in April, after Jasmin and her cousin left Paisley, Mayte made a snide remark about how she wasn't stupid and she knew that Jazz was "one of my hoes" and that if I didn't stay away from her that she'd use it against me. Little did she know her threat would soon mean nothing. I was informed by an unnamed source that amidst Mayte always going out on the town in Spain, she had been seen around several times with a male dancer. She played herself.

It's not like I didn't want to believe Jazz. But just like Mayte, there Jasmin stood lying to my face. I gave her several chances to tell me the truth and she continued to lie. If she would've been honest and told me the first time I asked her what she did in D.C., I would've heard her out. But that doesn't change the fact that she shouldn't have put herself in that situation.

For her to go behind my back to see him and then lie about it shows me how much she still needs to grow. And then she wanted to throw it back on me and accuse me of sleeping with other women in order to sooth her guilty conscious.

I went to her house hoping she would've been honest with me so we could move past this. I want to forgive her because I love her...I'm in love with her, but the lies need to stop.

When she called me the day after that argument, selfishly I didn't answer. Submerging myself in the studio, it wasn't hard for me to ignore her numerous calls. When the calls stopped, I didn't think much of it. I knew eventually I would talk to her again, but I just needed time. That was two weeks ago.

During a jam session with Larry, we had an impromptu bible discussion on forgiveness in which he was able to give me some wise words. He told me the meaning of forgiveness and how a spirit of forgiveness allows the ability to give the other person the benefit of the doubt. This helps create an environment that keeps resentment in check and allows love to grow.

Without hesitation, after he left I went upstairs to call Jazz. After three failed attempts, I called Morgan. I hated to bother her while she was on maternity leave, but at the time that was the only other way I could think of to get through to Jazz.

Morgan told me everything. She confirmed everything Jazz had said about how they all went to D.C. together and the only time she was with him was at the draft. Morgan said  she warned her how it wasn't the best idea but Jazz was adamant how she wasn't going to D.C. with the intent to cheat on me. She was just going to support a friend.

Should I have at least tried believing her when we were standing face to face? I watched her attempt to convince me, pleading until she was red in the face, and I didn't allow myself to believe her. I just don't understand why she couldn't be honest from the beginning.

No surprise, she told Morgan a little bit about the fight we had. Jazz admitted how stupid she was and that she was sure she had just ruined our relationship. I thought that was far from the truth. I know now me and her just need to sit down and talk this out like two adults.

Morgan also relayed tidbits about Jazz' altercation with this Keith guy literally twenty-fours hours prior to ours. How he told her all of these horrible things and that when she told him how in love she was with me and how much I meant to her, he threatened to hit her.

All of this new information sickened me, but I wasn't prepared for what came out of her mouth next. When I asked her about how Jasmin was, she told me that she had left for a travel nursing assignment in Orlando, Florida.

I was floored how Jazz would just up and leave. A part of me felt like she was running away from her problems and I didn't know whether to be hurt that she didn't at least reach out to me or angered by it. When I asked Morgan, she said that she thought I knew about it because she knew that Jazz had tried calling me. Without an Orlando address and my calls going unanswered, I prayed daily that her and Noah were safe and that she would reach out to me.

Mid-July while I was thumbing through my mail in search of paperwork from my divorce attorney, I came across a mundane manila envelope. My eyes lit up when I saw Jazz' name in the top left corner. Even without a return address, I was just happy I was still on her mind.

Removing the contents of the envelope, the detailed handwritten letter that sat on top caught my eye. I smirked at the little doodles of a sun, yin/yang, two stick figures holding hands, and a little note at the top that said: "P.S. I know owe you $5 in the swear jar".

To the 1 who has my ❤️,

I've probably rewritten this letter three times now. I could write I'm sorry a thousand times but what are they worth these days? I said I'm sorry over and over again that night and where did it get me? Nowhere. But let me try it one more time: I'M SORRY. There is no excuse for my deceptions, I know that. No matter how afraid I was of telling you about him, you deserved to know.

They say the truth shall set you free, so here it is:

I met Keith early last year. We were only friends in the beginning. My decision to allow that bond to blossom into something more was rooted in anger and selfishness. Sexual relations began when I woke up one day and remembered I wasn't the only woman in your life. I was so lost in our height of passion that I forgot I was the sidepiece. That's nobody's fault but my own. The smart thing would've been for me to end you and I's relationship, but that would mean I would lose my best friend in the process. So I selfishly begun having sex with Keith as a way to distract me. No matter how many times he took me to bed, nothing compared 2 u; sorry for the pun :) You bring me to climax without sex and brighten my soul like no other. Throughout our endeavor, you've unintentionally made me fall in love with you and become the foundation 4 my conception of love. I found myself tangled in this knowingly toxic web, in hopes that one day you would be mine and 'our' love wouldn't be taboo.  True 2 my human form however, I do have limits, I can only wait so long. On New Years Eve when you talked of divorce, I grew happy even though my conscious wanted to advise otherwise. Feeling hopeful of 1999, I knew it was time to let Keith go but as a friend I had promised him previously that I would be there at the draft. I went because I'm a woman of my word. I went, showed support, and in conclusion professed my love for an unnamed man whose name remains unpronounceable. That's all she wrote.

I know I should have told you about the trip, I cant say that enough P. If you don't trust me anymore, I understand. But can I say that you never gave me a reason to trust you but somehow I still did. Every 'I'm in love with you' was contradicted by a trip to see her. You said you and her were not intimate, yet she stood confident like she was the one. Yet, I still had faith in you. Maybe I'm stupid or too blinded by love. But I cant seem to shake you, and that's whats scary. Other than my son, my world, you have this hold on my heart that I'm not used to.

I feel like I'm rambling at this point so bare with me.

It's just so hard to think about how all because I was too stupid to tell you one simple thing, I might've fucked up what we have. Like, I don't want you to think I'm weird or anything P but, like (I know you hate when I always say 'like') I could see me spending the rest of my life with you. I mean, not only did you love all of my craziness but it's clear you love the hell out of Noah. That little boy adores you. He has uncles, my dad, and my grandfather but you're the closest thing to a dad that he's ever had.

I think the main reason why I'm writing this letter is because I knew what I'm about to say, I knew I wouldn't be able to say to you in person without waterworks. You always said you loved writing letters because you felt that you can get everything you need to say out all at one time with no disruptions. Anyway, truthfully, no matter the lies I told, when you threw the notion that I might've lied about the miscarriage in my face, that rocked me to my core. All I could think was, how could someone who claims to be so in love with me dig so deep and use something so hurtful in an argument? It literally felt like someone had poured salt onto an open wound.

It was wrong that I didn't tell you about Orlando, but I needed some form of escape. I needed a momentary breather from Minnesota, so when an opportunity arose I took it. Orlando is no permanent thang P-nut, it's too hot down here. I didn't mean any harm by not telling you about this job opportunity, but I knew you wouldn't approve of it. This was a decision I had to make on my own. I made this trip not only for a temporary change in environment, but I needed to work on myself. With everything that has gone on, I just needed to get away and re-evaluate things.

With you steadily finishing your album, I don't want you worrying about us. We're fine, we're staying with my older brother Mathieu and his family. I would hope that one day when I get back, we could potentially sit down and talk without raised voices. I'm working on forgiveness, I am, but it's hard not to think about how your words cut me so deep. I just need time (I know P, it doesn't exist). I hope you can forgive me.

If it's meant to be, you'll find me,

The next set of papers were all medical reports from three seperate doctors visits. At her first visit to her OBGYN on October 17th, all the tests she had done concluded that she was pregnant. It said she was 7 weeks along, but after she had a transvaginal ultrasound the baby was in fact measuring smaller than it should've. The doctor wrote how although there was a heartbeat, the pregnancy might not take so she was advised to go on strict bedrest. It said that the bleeding may not mean anything, but it needed to be monitored.

I remember, I think that was the same day she called me and told me she had been laying down all day because she wasn't feeling good. I wanted to come over, but she advised against it and wanted me to sing to her on the phone.

When she went back a few days later, more tests and another ultrasound showed that there wasn't a heartbeat anymore and her hCG levels were dropping. After the third visit, the pregnancy test was negative and the doctor reported that she had passed the baby naturally at home.

I became overwhelmed not only by her passionate letter, but also by scanning over these medical reports. But my heart shattered when I placed down the last sheet and lying under it was an ultrasound of the baby the first time she went in. Although the baby was the size of a grape, that was our baby.

I understand her reasoning behind keeping me in the dark about this, but it still pains me to know she went through this alone. Regardless of how angry I was, I should've never said something so vile to her. I don't think I ever doubted she was pregnant. What does one gain by lying about a pregnancy and a miscarriage?

It didn't register to me how destructive those words were to her psyche until that first tear rolled down her delicate face. I exposed to her who 'Prince' used to be, someone who was more self-absorbed and would be ready to cut someone off after an argument. No matter how upset I was with her, I wasn't ready to think about a future without her, she still has my heart.

I told Jazz one time that  if I would've met her say in 1991, I wouldn't have realized what I had in front of me and would've messed that up. The more mature me can accept my faults. I agree with her point on how I never gave her a reason to trust me, I came on to her as a married man. But that's over with, and me and her need to wipe our hands of this. We need a fresh start, I miss how bubbly and hopeful she was before the mess.

I felt compelled to try calling her again. Tapping the tips of my fingers against the hardwood surface of my desk, my heart skipped a beat when her soft spoken voice flowed through my ear only for me to realize it was her voicemail.

Feeling like time was conceivable and as if it was escaping me, I hurriedly spilled my a condensed rendition of my thoughts to her answering machine.

"Please come home. Lets make this right, I love you baby girl."

A/N: leave your thoughts and comments down below 💜