"This ain't Sosa," I said, my voice cold.
There was a pause.
"Who the fuck is this?" Sheree asked.
"This is Yah-Yah. His woman. And I just read yo' little text message."
Another pause, then she laughed.
"Oh, so you his woman now?" she said, her tone dripping with disrespect. "That's cute."
"Bitch, did you just say cute?"
"Yeah, I said cute. 'Cause you sitting here thinking you special, but you ain't. Me and Sosa been fucking around for years. We got history. You just the flavor of the month."
I felt my blood boiling.
"Flavor of the month? Bitch, I live with him. We been together for over a year. Who the fuck are you again? Oh, anobody who just sucks his dick when it’s convenient for him." I shot back.
"I'm the bitch he gon’ come to when he gets tired of yo’ ass," Sheree shot back. "You think you the only one? Girl, please. Sosa always gon' come back to me. We got a bond you can't break."
"A bond? You mean you a fucking side bitch who he use when he bored!"
"Call it what you want, but I ain't going nowhere. And neither is he. So you can cry about it, leave him, do whatever you want, he still gon' be in my bed."
"You a dirty ass hoe, you know that?"
"And you a stupid ass bitch for thinking he was faithful," she said, laughing again. "But go off, sis. Get mad at me all you want. It ain’t gon’ change shit."
I wanted to reach through the phone and choke her ass. "You know what? Fuck you, bitch. And fuck him too."
"Yeah, I do fuck him. On a regular basis, actually." She was really enjoying this. "Now get off his phone and go cry to somebody who gives a fuck." She hung up.
I sat there, the phone still in my hand, my whole body shaking. I felt like I was going to explode. I wanted to scream, to throw something, to break everything in this room. But instead, the tears just started falling.
I dropped the phone on the bed and put my face in my hands, sobbing. All the happiness I felt earlier, all the love, all the pride, shit was gone. Replaced with this heavy, crushing feeling in my chest.
I really thought Sosa was different. I thought he was the one nigga who wouldn't do me dirty, who wouldn't cheat, who wouldn't lie to my face. I thought what we had was real.
But he was just like every other nigga.
How long had this been going on? How many times had he left the house saying he had "business" when really he was goingto see her? How many times had he fucked her and then came home and fucked me, lying to my face like it was nothing? I felt so fucking stupid.
I pulled my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth, crying so hard I could barely breathe. My chest hurt. My head hurt. Everything hurt.
I looked over at the phone again, still lit up with that text message.
"You acting funny after I just sucked yo' dick. Fuck you Sosa."
I grabbed the phone and threw it across the room as hard as I could. It hit the wall and fell to the floor, the screen cracking. But it didn't make me feel better. Nothing was going to make me feel better.
I laid down on the bed, crying into the pillow. I could still smell Sosa cologne on the sheets, and it made me cry even harder. I thought he loved me. I really thought he loved me. But love don't cheat. Love doesn't lie. Love doesn't make you feel like this.
I didn't know how long I laid there crying, but eventually, I heard my phone buzz. I picked it up, hoping for a second that it was Sosa. But it wasn't. It was Mya asking if I was good. I didn't respond. I just put my phone down and closed my eyes, wishing I could disappear.
My phone buzzed again. Then again. Then again.
I snatched it up ready to cuss Mya the fuck out because I was already too close to the edge, but when I saw her name flashing across the screen, I just stared at it for a second.
