"I can fix us," she said desperately, her hands gripping my shirt now.
I sucked my teeth and shook my head, damn near laughing at her willingness to fight for something that was already dead.
"You'd be the only one willing to fix it, though, Trecee."
"What did I do that has you hating me so bad, Romelo?" Her voice pitched higher, more frantic.
"What haven't you done?" I shot back, my voice rising. "I'm starting to get sick of this back-and-forth shit, and I'm sick of repeating my fucking self every time it comes down to this."
I gently but firmly moved her back, creating space between us. Her hands fell from my shirt, and she stood there looking up at me with wide, wounded eyes.
"Please don't tell me this is about that shit with me fighting Synthia," she started, her tone shifting from sad to defensive. "Since when have you been pressed so hard about the way I treat her? I'm grown as fuck, and I don't need?—"
I lifted my hand and thumped her hard across the forehead with my middle finger—not hard enough to leave a permanent mark, but hard enough to shut her up and make a point.
"Ouch!" she cried out, her hand flying up to palm her forehead. There'd be a red mark, maybe even a bruise tomorrow, but she'd be alright. "Why'd you do that?"
"Mane, I ain't one of yo lil' friends," I said coldly, my eyes boring into hers. "Stop talkin' to me like you can lil' boy me. You fail to realize that I ain't a simp-ass nigga yet?"
Her face crumpled, and the tears that had been pooling in her eyes finally spilled over, streaking down her cheeks and ruining her makeup.
"Romelo... I'm sorry," she croaked, her voice thick with tears.
Years ago, that sight would've destroyed me. I would've folded, apologized, made it right.
But that was then.
This was now.
And I didn't feel shit.
Suddenly, the door swung open.
Both of our heads snapped toward the sound. Standing in the doorway was little Moriah, her face covered in grease and shredded cheese from whatever Synthia had made her. Behind her stood Synthia, her hand resting protectively on Moriah's shoulder.
The contrast was stark—Moriah's innocent, happy face versus the heavy tension in the room.
"Do you not knock when you see closed doors?!" Trecee screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice shrill and piercing.
Moriah's face crumpled instantly. The smile she'd been wearing—so bright and carefree just a second ago—vanished, replaced by trembling lips and eyes that filled with tears. Her small body began to shake, and then she broke out into full sobs.
"Why do you have to talk to her like that?" Synthia snapped immediately, her voice sharp and protective. She pulled Moriah behind her thick thigh, shielding the little girl with her body like a lioness guarding her cub.
"Bitch, you don't have to ask me shit about why I do what I want, when I want to!" Trecee's voice was venomous now, her finger pointing accusingly at Synthia. "She needs to know right from wrong! That's why she walks around spoiled and doesn't listen to shit I say!"
"Stop cussin' like this with her right there," I hissed, my eyes narrowing into dangerous slits as I mugged Trecee. "You be doin' too much."
I could feel my anger rising—not just at the situation, but at Trecee's complete disregard for how her words affected a four-year-old child.
"Oh, so everything falls on me now, huh?" Trecee's voice pitched even higher, more defensive and frantic.
"Mane, gone on with that ignorant shit and get yourself together," I said, my voice low and threatening.
I moved toward the door, preparing to walk past her and get Moriah away from this toxic-ass environment, but Trecee grabbed my arm. Her nails dug into my skin as she tugged, trying to pull me back toward her.
Synthia stood there in the doorway, not moving, her eyes taking in every detail of what was unfolding. She wasn't being shameful about imposing as an intruder—she was standing her ground, watching this shit show with those observant, calculating eyes.
"I thought we were going to talk, baby," Trecee said, her voice shifting again—softer now, almost pleading, like she could manipulate me into staying.
