“N-nothing,” Emani huffed. “Serious…”
“You let that man touch you on the inside?” Donnée questioned and watched Emani’s face turn red and her teeth nip her lip. “With what?”
“Not his dick, obviously.”
“And why not? End this shit with Malik already,” Donnée huffed. “We do not like the nigga.”
“I’m aware no one likes him. I barely like him. But…I want to be as right as I can be. And I feel like I need to end things face-to-face, not over text or a phone call. We’ve been together for three years. I owe him that much.”
Donnée huffed and shook her head. “You are too good to that man for him to be less than the bare minimum for you. But granted, you’re like that for every man you’re with. Giving them a whole lot of shit that they don’t deserve.”
Emani rolled her eyes. “Why are you here so early?”
“Oh, because we’re having breakfast here. Carson walked in on Ashton playing naked twister on the kitchen counter,” Donnée said with a shrug. “Jahlil has a chef on the way.”
“Why do I have a feeling that my very quiet rental is going to be full of niggas,” Emani muttered as Kyrie walked in and took a seat on the far end of the couch.
“Because it is. Nigga had his ass by the apples. I’m not eating shit out of that kitchen again,” Kyrie shared as the front door opened. “My Granny Smith apples. That’s a crime, and his short ass needs to be arrested.”
“I swear that muhfucka gets on my fucking nerves. Telling me I was trippin’. Ain’t enough liquor in the damn world to get that image of his Lucky Charm’s looking ass out my head,” Carson huffed, strolling in, stopping to kiss Emani on top of the head before taking a seat next to her.
“You staying here too?” Emani questioned.
“Oh we all are. Ashton can have that freak off house. I got limits. The nigga had his dick on a plate,” Carson spoke with a shudder. “Ion think we can be friends anymore.”
Emani fell back in the cushions, laughing. “Ashton doing Ashton shit and y’all are surprised.”
“You know, at some point, the nigga has got to chill. The plates, E, the plates. Too damn far,” Carson huffed. “Anyway, you good? You disappeared.”
“Drunk tacos. I only ate one before I passed out. I can’t hang anymore.”
“You ready for tomorrow? Your mind right?” Carson looked down at her shirt and smirked.
“I’m good. I’m ready. Why are you looking at me like that?”
Carson draped his arm over her shoulder and said, “Because it looks like you’ve made your decision.”
Emani rolled her eyes. “Let me change before the little pint-sized jokester gets here.”
“I’m more interested in knowing how you got in those big ass clothes,” Carson replied with amusement.
“While your ass was in the corner telling women sweet little nothings, I was being held hostage in the deep end. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Yeah, I’ll be the judge of that. You two like acting like nothing is happening, like we don’t have eyes. I have good vision,” Carson stated.
“You can see anything you want. I see this.” Emani held her ring finger up and pushed herself off the couch.
“Girl, that shit don’t mean shit to none of us. You can buy yourself sixty of those and put that nigga to shame,” Carson said to her back as she started up the stairs. “Leave it up there, too. We don’t want to see that bullshit.”
Emani rolled her eyes and quietly laughed to herself. She could afford not just sixty of the thoughtless ring on her finger and the tray of rings he presented, but the one she actually wanted. All the thought did was further solidify her decision. In her bedroom, she pulled Jahlil’s clothes off and padded to the shower.
The phone lighting up on the countertop as Emani took her jewelry off from the night before, showed a group of texts from Malik. More videos of her having fun and enjoying her life without being consumed by him. The pictures of her and Jahlil closer than he’d like. All nonsense and she was going to save herself from the headache today. As she removed the ring from her finger, she picked up the phone and blocked him. After all, he was on vacation with his mother. Every year before, he left her alone, forgetting she existed until he came home. Him and his fragile ego could sit on ice until she got home in a few days. Then, she would end this farce and move on with her life.
Showering and dressing in a lounge set, she roamed downstairs, finding the chef hard at work making breakfast and unison groan coming from the living room.
“Man, get your ass out here with that bullshit. You know what kind of sick nigga you got to be to put your ass by some apples?” Kyrie screeched.
“I swear I’m never going to be the same,” Jahlil added. “I love apples and you were passed out on the counter by all the fresh fruit.”
