"Yeah, actually. I have a lot more questions."
She folded her hands over her ample breasts and turned her head to the side, her curls falling over her shoulder.
I waited.
"Going forward, this..." She motioned her finger between us, her eyes serious. "If you ever get to a stage where you don'twant me, then let me know. The way you did Trecee was foul. I wouldn't wish that shit on my worst enemy. Don't leave me in the dark. If you ain't feeling me, then let me know and I'll move accordingly."
Her words stung more than I expected.
"I'll never do you the way I did her," I said, and I meant it. The insult in my voice was clear.
"Do you believe a crackhead when they tell you they won't do crack anymore?" she questioned, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I need to keep my feelings protected. This ain't about you. This is about me."
I understood where she was coming from. Trust was earned, not given. And I hadn't exactly given her much reason to trust me.
"Where you goin' wit' this?" I asked.
"I just told you how I feel. I poured my heart out to you the other day. Men like you can have a dime a dozen, so I need to peep shit for what it is and not for what you tell me."
"Then the same goes for you too?—"
"I already told you how I feel. I wasn't cappin' when I said that shit," I defended, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "Yo trust is all fucked up."
"Oh, ya don't say?" She giggled, but there was no humor in it. "It starts with niggas like you."
That hit me in the chest like a brick.
"One minute you want this princess treatment, then the next you're deciphering what it is and what it ain't. You don't know what the fuck you want," I spat, my voice rising slightly.
"It took youyearsto figure out what you wanted before you became bold enough to utter the truth," she argued back, her voice matching mine in intensity. "I'm not some rebound bitch, and I ain't never been known to hide what I do or who I am in the dark. Trecee is what men like you call a trophy."
I gritted my teeth, my jaw clenching so hard it hurt. "Stop insulting yourself like that. It ain't never been like that. You wasn't feelin' me, so I peeped that and moved on. That's my only fuckin' regret, and I put that shit on my mama. I'm convinced you just like to hear yourself talk."
Leaning off the counter, I stale-faced her for a long moment. She didn't talk, and neither did I. But I could see the wheels turning in her head—words she wanted to say but held back.
Synthia got away with saying shit that I would've slapped Trecee for. And she knew it.
"You don't get to treat me like a pet," she finally said, her voice quiet but firm.
"I never said you were, Juicy."
"Mean what you say and stand on that shit."
"You have to trust me," I responded, my voice softer now. I took a deep breath, trying to reel in my frustration.
"It won't be easy."
"Nothing in life comes easy."
My feelings had been locked away for so long—buried deep, hidden behind layers of bravado and coldness. But now, with Synthia, I was peeling those layers back. Showing her the raw, vulnerable parts of myself that I'd never shown anyone.
It was uncomfortable. Terrifying, even.
But if it kept her in my life, I'd do it without hesitation.
My only fear was her doing the same—opening up to me, showing me her vulnerabilities—only to double back and flip the switch on me later. To use what I'd shown her against me.
She wasn't the only one afraid in this situation.
