“Are you going to let me talk and not say nothing?”
I shrugged. “I mean, what you want me to say?”
“Thanks for coming to see me since you fucking ghosted me.” She ranted. “I even messaged you on socials. I texted you. The numbers still the same. Nothing.”
I inwardly chuckled. “Yeah, aiight.” I chugged the rest of my drink, left a tip on the table and got up.
She grabbed me. “Wait, Courtland. Where you going?”
Hearing my name from her lips brought a familiar sting. My name didn’t sound the same coming from her. That’s the old me. Nobody knew that part of me but a select few. Sometimes I wished they didn’t. I shed a lot of skin throughout the years. It’s hard to know what used to be.
I glared. She snatched back.
“I ain’t got time for this shit, Naya. What you want? Ticket back home? Bread? What?”
She scoffed. “Damn. That’s how you do me?”
“I’m just trying to figure out why the fuck you come all this way for a fight for a mothafucka that don’t even talk to you.”
“You did at once. I remember when that’s all we did was talk.” She hesitated. “Then I remember a time where you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”
“Oh yeah?” I paused.
Dragging my eyes from her bone straight hair down to her hips that were about to bust of the fucking seam of the dress. She wore some gold strapped heels, then I doubled back up to her moisturized breasts that were damn near jumping out the top.
Naya’s always been a thick mothafucka. Some even called her fat, but she wore her shit well back then. Since the last time I saw her, she’s put on a few more pounds, not in a bad way though.
“That’s been a long time, though.”
Then I remember she approached Eris.
“You approached my wife with some bullshit a while back.”
“Your wife?”
“Fuck you doing, Naya. You ain’t show up for nothing.”
She looked around. “And where is said wife?”
I left it alone.
“Exactly. I knew she couldn’t hang with the real you, but I can– always have.”
“Get the fuck on.”
“But, I want to help you celebrate that win… in my own way.”
Rolling my tongue across my teeth, “Oh yeah. How’s that?”
She slowly stood. The Chair scrapping the floor.
She ran her hand down her curves. “Whatever you want or need you know I got you.”
I started walking, letting her words linger. That’s a past I can’t outrun. Sometimes I wonder if it’ll stay gone.
“Come on,” I told her.
It didn’t even fucking matter what I thought or felt.
