True #2
“I fucked up,” I admit, jaw tight. “A few times. And I’m sorry for every one of those times.” She doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. “I know what we got,” I continue, stepping closer, lowering my voice like I’m trying to reach something that’s already out of reach.
“And I ain’t trying to lose you. I haven’t stepped out in years… I slipped up one night, with Tamika—but I ain’t double back.”
Silence.
She studies me like she’s measuring damage, not words.
“Action speaks louder than words,” she says finally. “Allow me to leave… and choose what I want to do.”
“I can’t let you leave.”
“I don’t wanna stay,” she replies, just as calm. “I don’t wanna look stupid… no matter how much I love you.”
“You ain’t stupid,” I shoot back, stepping closer again.
That’s when something in her changes—not more loudly, but more sharply.
“Why not?” she asks, her eyes locking on mine. “I’m not enough for you?”
My chest tightens.
“You cheated on me one too many fucking times,” she says. “And I stayed.”
That word echoes in the space between us.
Stayed.
“I’m not staying anymore.”
I try to cut in—she won’t let me.
“You refuse to change. If you love someone, you don’t keep fucking cheating.”
Each word lands like it’s some shit been waiting to be said.
“If you want to cheat, leave me and do as you fucking please.”
My jaw tightens, but I don’t interrupt. I can’t.
“You know how many niggas wanna fuck with me?” she adds, her voice still even. “And I ain’t never stepped out on you.”
Yeah, that hits different. Because it’s true.
“Plenty,” she says.
And now there’s a shift. A warning.
“It’s up now,” she finishes. “And I’m back outside… and it ain’t shit you can do about it.”
My hands clench at my sides. My control is slipping fast.
“You can let me leave voluntarily…” she says, stepping closer—right into my space.
Close enough for me to feel her breath. “…or I’m calling the police.”
That stops everything, not because I’m scared, but because I know she means what she says.
Every fucking word.
“If it’s meant to be,” she adds, softer now—but somehow heavier— “we’ll find our way back to each other.”
I don’t move. I don’t speak. Because I feel it, she’s already gone.
“But I ain’t trying to find you, True,” she says. “I’m moving past you.”
The silence in the room is thick. Her words feel too final. My body finally shifts—just enough. I’m not stepping away. But I’m no longer blocking the door. And that right there? That’s the moment I fucking lose her.
Without her even touching the handle yet. She doesn’t slam the door. That’s what makes this shit worse. It closes softly. Clean. Final. And just like that… She’s gone. I stand there for a second. Then another. Like, my body ain’t caught up to what the fuck just happened yet.
My hand still half-raised… Like I could’ve stopped her. Like I should’ve. But I didn’t.
“Amirya…”
Her name leaves my mouth low. Pointless.
Because she’s not here to hear it. Silence swallows the house whole.
No heels clicking. No attitude. No presence.
Just… nothing. I turn slowly, looking around like something’s off—like something’s missing.
Because it is. Her bag ain’t by the couch.
Her perfume ain’t hanging in the air like it used to.
Her voice ain’t bouncing off these walls. It’s just me.
“Fuck…”
I drag both hands down my face, pacing once, twice—but there’s nowhere to go. Nothing to fix. That’s what’s fucking me up. I can’t fix this. Every other time, I had a play. A line. A way back in. Not this time. This wasn’t a fight. This was a decision.
I stop in the middle of the room, chest tight, breathing heavier than it should be.
“She ain’t coming back…” I say it out loud.
Just to hear it. And even then—I don’t believe it. But my body does. Because something in my chest just…dropped. I look toward the door again, half expecting it to open.
For her to come back in, roll her eyes and say something slick—like this is just another one of our moments.
It doesn’t.
Minutes pass, or maybe seconds. I don’t even know. All I know is—she’s not walking back through that door. I let out a laugh. Dry. Empty as hell.
“Damn…”
I walk into the bedroom slowly, like I’m stepping into a memory that ain’t mine no more.
Closet door open. Half her shit gone. That’s when it really hits. This wasn’t about emotion. This shit was planned. Amirya’s been ready, and I ain’t seen it coming.
“Stupid ass nigga…” I mutter, jaw tight. Because I knew. I felt it. And I still played with her.
I sit on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor like it might give me an answer. But it doesn’t. All it gives me… is the truth.
I lost her. Not to another nigga. Not to a moment. I lost her to my own decisions. And for the first time in a long time… I ain’t got nobody to blame but me. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I don’t even check it.
Because whoever it is—it ain’t her. And that’s the only call I wanted. I lean back, staring at the ceiling, my chest rising slowly and heavy.
“She really gone…” And this time? Ain’t no chasing her down the block. Ain’t no talking her out of it. Ain’t no fixing it tonight. It’s just me and the silence she left behind.