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By Root 335 0

guzzle. He can’t. We split up at the bar; he was hanging out with his boys while I was hanging out with my friends. I looked over at the bar and there were two girls who looked very suspicious hanging around where Hank was. I went up to him and said, “Hey, watch out, these girls look really suspicious.” He took it the wrong way. He was like, “You’re just jealous. Why would you think I would do that to you?” I was like, “No, Hank, I’m not saying you’re cheating on me, but there are writers and journalists here, so just be careful. You know there’s a lot of heat on us right now.”

The last few months had been horrible for us: Magazines were saying we were splitting up, blogs were revealing the sex tape, and reporters were following us everywhere. Literally I would buy a soda at a store and a few days later I’d read about the conversation I had with the store clerk in one of the tabloids. Hank and I had flown separately to our charity event because of our schedules, and one of the magazines actually bought the plane seat next to Hank for the flight down. A reporter sat right there next to him trying to get a big interview about the sex tape, me, and our relationship. Hank spent two hours next to this girl and had to repeatedly say, “No comment.” So yeah, I was a little paranoid. If a reporter is going to chase us onto a plane, why wouldn’t they try to get Hank while he’s drunk in a bar?

Hank was pretty drunk and wasn’t listening to what I was saying. He still kept saying things like, “You think I would do something like that to you?” Ultimately, he wouldn’t stop drinking or leave the bar area, and the girls were still near him, watching him. I got so frustrated that he wasn’t listening, and I went up to our hotel room. He quickly followed me and we started arguing and screaming at each other. We weren’t even making sense, just fighting and lobbing insults back and forth for the sake of fighting, so I told him to leave. I was done with the fight and over being drunk. He went back to the bar to drink some more with his friends, and I tried to calm down and stayed in the room.

But then I looked at my phone a little bit later and there was a text message that read: “Come by. I would love to see you right now.”

I flipped out. I had just gotten done fighting with him, so who the hell was he texting that to? He had said he wasn’t paying attention to the girls in the bar, but . . . This was one of those moments where I saw my life flashing in front of my eyes. I had put all of my eggs into this basket—Hank’s basket—trust, family, money, love, my whole life built here with Hank Baskett, and he’s downstairs sending “sext” messages to other girls? I had the heart-stopping, gut-wrenching feeling that he was cheating on me.

I knew I needed to find out the truth immediately, so I called him and screamed, “How dare you? You cheated on me!”

It was a messy fight. He came storming back to the room, trying to show me he wasn’t cheating. “I’m not cheating on you, what are you talking about?” I said, “You just sent a text to me that read you ‘would love to see’ me. That wasn’t for me! Who are you talking to? You just saw me so you certainly weren’t talking to me! And those certainly aren’t the type of messages you send to your wife. You were sexting! Who were you sexting? One of the girls from the bar?” Hank truly had nothing to hide, but when you’re drunk you tend to get a little bit loopy. He was like, “Here, look through my phone.” He said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I looked through his phone and I looked through his text messages and didn’t see anything, so I just assumed he had erased the message. Of course, I was checking his text messages, too drunk to realize he had actually sent me a BlackBerry message.

I forgot to check his BBM. I just assumed he was lying to me anyway, so I smashed his phone and my phone together repeatedly, trying to break them. He just kept repeating, “Look at my BBM!” But it was too late; I was full of rage (and alcohol) and unfortunately, I just swung at him, not really trying to hit him but