My hand rested on the steering wheel while I stared at the lil’ house in front of me. It wasn’t special, just a regular lil’ spot on a quiet street where the neighbors sat on the porch, and everybody minded their business.
My chest felt tight.
I looked at myself in the mirror, wiped my tears, and exhaled, hearing something Gio used to tell me in my head.
You are my soft girl, and I want you like that. But when you get mad, when you feel hurt, your anger ain’t shit to play with.
And he was right, I wasn’t to be fucked with.
I hopped outta the car and walked straight up to her door.
I knocked once.
Then again.
A few seconds passed before she came to the door with her head down, looking at the phone. She had some money in her hand, and she stuck it out of the door.
“Bitch, this ain’t no delivery.”
Her head shot up fast, and she stepped back into her house, and I walked inside.
“So… what was the plan showing up at my door?” I asked as I looked around her place.
She stared at me for a second in shock.
“Um, um, I,” she stuttered.
I looked behind me by the door and saw a bat and grabbed it.
“Did you come to my door to tell me that you was fuckin’ my man?”
She shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”
I laughed. “But you showed up to my door twice, you showed up to court, and then you sent a picture of y’all two to his phone. You clearly wanted me to know something.”
“No, I didn’t know you had his phone. I was hoping he saw it when he got out.”
“For fuckin’ what?!” I yelled.
“Because I miss him!” she yelled back.
I felt the blood inside me boiling.
“He damn near dismissed me, but I missed him being around. The nigga helped me with shit.”
I tilted my head.
“What the fuck did he help you with?”
Trina paused.
“He helped me with my rent; well, he used to. He used to do a lot for me, and then he just stopped. I was hoping that I could get him back.”
“Bitch, are you dumb? How you gonna get a nigga back when he’s with somebody?”
“He’s not happy,” she said under her breath.
I paused, and she walked over to me.