I snatched my suitcase off the bed, not giving a fuck that half of my shit was hanging out of the sides. My hands moved on autopilot—grabbing my charger, my passport, anything that was mine.
The tears had dried up somewhere between dozing off, wishing all of this shit was a dream, and waking up to see the marks around my neck, reminding me that it wasn’t. I was numbnow. Hollow. Moving through the motions, because staying here another second would break me in ways I couldn’t come back from.
I wasted no time, using what little money I had to book the earliest flight back to Memphis. Fuck the original plan. Fuck waiting. I needed to be gone—now. At least I could still do that much on my own.
Zipping my suitcase with force, I shoved the clothes that were sloppily hanging out the sides back inside. I heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door, but I didn’t care enough to see who it was. I didn’t matter then, and I shouldn’t matter now.
“Trecee.”
It was Mimi. Her voice came out small and soft.
I didn’t respond. I kept moving, walking back into the bathroom to make sure I wasn’t leaving anything behind that I couldn’t come back for.
“Trecee, can we talk for a second?”
“There ain’t shit to talk about.” My voice came out flat and nonchalant as I grabbed my Glam-A-Holic purse off the nightstand and slung it over my shoulder.
She opened the door anyway, invading my privacy, arms crossed over her chest. Her face was twisted with guilt and sadness, but none of it mattered to me.
“I know you’re upset?—”
“Upset?” My head snapped so hard I heard it pop. I let out a bitter laugh, looking at her through narrowed eyes. “Nah, bitch. Upset ain’t even the word to describe how I feel right now.”
“Look, it wasn’t my place to tell?—”
“Is that your way of covering your ass or sum’? That shit don’t fuckin’ cut it. If the shoe was on the other fuckin’ foot, you’d want to know. If Oliver’s dick was down her throat, would you not want me to tell you some shit like that? Huh? There ain’t no boundaries when it come to that. I don’t have to second-guesswhether I’d tell you, because I would. In a heartbeat. And you know that. But you bringin’ yo slow ass in here tryin’ to say that don’t erase the fact that you’re a grimy ass bitch just like her fat ass,” I spat, my jaw clenched tight.
“You watched me plan this trip, and you knew about her fucking Romelo this whole time—had me looking like a fool!”
She kept pleading her case, like that would somehow make it better for her or the situation.
“I didn’t know the whole time,” she tried to explain. “I just found out about it recently, and I didn’t know how to tell you?—”
“What the fuck you mean you didn’t know how to tell me?” My face scrunched up. “You pick up the fucking phone and say something, hoe! Fuck is wrong wit’ you, bitch? The way you comin’, I need to ask if you fuckin’ on him too? I ain’t got shit to say to you either.”
Clutching my suitcase, I rolled it across the marble floor, brushing past her as I yanked the door open. Behind me, I could feel Mimi standing there, looking like a lost puppy. But I didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to hear shit she had to say, and it wouldn’t make a motherfucking difference anyway.
The Uber pulled up, headlights cutting through the darkness and palm trees. I put my luggage in the trunk, slid into the back seat, and didn’t look back.
Not once.
A FEW HOURS LATER
Fishing around for my purse for the house keys, I scurried up the steps with my suitcase in tow, my body heavy with exhaustion from the flight. Every muscle ached, and I didn’t have much strength to do anything. I turned the knob, and the door opened because it was unlocked, so I slid my keys back inside my purse.
The living room was a mess, smelling like dirty clothes and mold, making me scrunch up my nose from the reek. The contrast hit me immediately. Just hours ago, I was in a luxury villa with marble floors and ocean views, and now I was back in this. Monterrius was sitting on the edge of the couch with a friend. Their attention was zeroed in on the television as they played the game, thumbs stabbing at the joystick. The game system must’ve been new.
I closed and locked the door after me, leaving my suitcase beside it. “Where mama at?”
Monterrius glanced up at me and rolled his eyes hard, his face twisting up with disgust. I guess he was still pissy from the altercation that happened between us a while ago. He’s always been like me—the one to hold grudges.
“In her skin,” he snickered, causing his friend to laugh too.
“You got a real smart-ass mouth, you know that?”
“Man, why the fuck are you even here?” He sat the controller down and turned to face me fully, his voice dripping with venom. “Ain’t you Hollywood now? You too good for the hood, right?”
“Monterrius—”
