meals.
Ten unanswered phone calls and an hour and a half later, Dylan sat at the table, unable to eat, with an empty chair beside her. She didn’t want to look up from her plate. She was afraid that if she did, the reality of the situation would be too hard to ignore. This all had to have been a horrible dream, because no way had her “boyfriend” left her nearly two hours before at a dinner party and not even cared enough to answer his phone to explain why. That shit wasn’t real. Nobody does stuff like that. Oh, but wait, State did. Just like before, he’d build up her trust and emotions only to let her down, and Dylan, being completely head over heels in love with him, fell for it each and every time.
“Honey, are you all right?” Billie wrapped her arm around Dylan’s shoulder.
Dylan took her eyes off of her plate and realized that she was the only one left at the table. Everybody else had retired into the living area.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You didn’t eat any of your food. Are you sure you’re not hungry?”
“Uh-huh. I just wanna go home.”
“Do you wanna try calling State again?”
“No . . . it’s no use. He’s not coming back. Can you just have your driver drop us off? I gave mine the night off.”
“Sure, sweetie. No problem.” Billie kissed her on the forehead then excused herself from the room.
Despite her outer demeanor, on the inside, Billie was pissed. For her friend, she’d let her guard down and accepted State into their inner circle. She’d opened her home to him without reservation, only for him to shit on it all. Billie knew he hadn’t changed one bit. State was still the same lying, twotiming, dirty-dick, sack-of-shit niggah in her eyes. She just prayed for Dylan’s sake that she’d wise up and realize that State would always remain the same, despite what his mouth claimed.
“This State. You know what to do.” His voice mail message clicked in again. Fed up and disappointed, Dylan snapped her phone shut. That was the twentieth time that night she’d heard his voice mail greeting. Determined not to call him anymore, she turned off her phone and placed it on the table next to her. A warm spring breeze swept through the window.
Dylan lay on her chaise lounge chair with Fuck ’em Gurl in her lap. Somehow, she’d grown fond of the dog. She didn’t even mind when she climbed into her bed to sleep at night. Dylan now expected her to. Rubbing Fuck ’em Gurl’s back, Dylan gazed at the sky. The stars that night seemed so close that she could reach out and grab them one by one. Normally, when she was depressed, Dylan baked or perused the racks or Internet for her next can’t-live-without purchase, but that night, not even retail therapy would solve her problems.
With the persistence of a stalker she’d tired calling State all night, only to get no answer. A part of her wished she could say his behavior was out of character or unexpected, but it wasn’t. State was being typical State. Nothing about him had really changed. Dylan was the one who had tricked herself into believing that this time around, after time apart, his word would hold true. But State was never there for support. He never was around for her birthday or holidays. He never volunteered to meet her family and friends. He never thought twice about her aborting their baby, but yet and still, there was this so-called love, want, and need for her in his heart that he just couldn’t escape. None of it added up, and Dylan knew it.
She knew that something major was missing between them. Maybe it was the fact that she loved him more than he loved her, or the fact that he never invested as much of himself into their relationship as she did. Dylan just wished he’d see how much she cared for him. If he recognized that, maybe, just maybe, he would appreciate her more and treat her better.
Dylan lay on her side, curled up in the fetal position, in a state between asleep and awake. The ever
Ten unanswered phone calls and an hour and a half later, Dylan sat at the table, unable to eat, with an empty chair beside her. She didn’t want to look up from her plate. She was afraid that if she did, the reality of the situation would be too hard to ignore. This all had to have been a horrible dream, because no way had her “boyfriend” left her nearly two hours before at a dinner party and not even cared enough to answer his phone to explain why. That shit wasn’t real. Nobody does stuff like that. Oh, but wait, State did. Just like before, he’d build up her trust and emotions only to let her down, and Dylan, being completely head over heels in love with him, fell for it each and every time.
“Honey, are you all right?” Billie wrapped her arm around Dylan’s shoulder.
Dylan took her eyes off of her plate and realized that she was the only one left at the table. Everybody else had retired into the living area.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You didn’t eat any of your food. Are you sure you’re not hungry?”
“Uh-huh. I just wanna go home.”
“Do you wanna try calling State again?”
“No . . . it’s no use. He’s not coming back. Can you just have your driver drop us off? I gave mine the night off.”
“Sure, sweetie. No problem.” Billie kissed her on the forehead then excused herself from the room.
Despite her outer demeanor, on the inside, Billie was pissed. For her friend, she’d let her guard down and accepted State into their inner circle. She’d opened her home to him without reservation, only for him to shit on it all. Billie knew he hadn’t changed one bit. State was still the same lying, twotiming, dirty-dick, sack-of-shit niggah in her eyes. She just prayed for Dylan’s sake that she’d wise up and realize that State would always remain the same, despite what his mouth claimed.
“This State. You know what to do.” His voice mail message clicked in again. Fed up and disappointed, Dylan snapped her phone shut. That was the twentieth time that night she’d heard his voice mail greeting. Determined not to call him anymore, she turned off her phone and placed it on the table next to her. A warm spring breeze swept through the window.
Dylan lay on her chaise lounge chair with Fuck ’em Gurl in her lap. Somehow, she’d grown fond of the dog. She didn’t even mind when she climbed into her bed to sleep at night. Dylan now expected her to. Rubbing Fuck ’em Gurl’s back, Dylan gazed at the sky. The stars that night seemed so close that she could reach out and grab them one by one. Normally, when she was depressed, Dylan baked or perused the racks or Internet for her next can’t-live-without purchase, but that night, not even retail therapy would solve her problems.
With the persistence of a stalker she’d tired calling State all night, only to get no answer. A part of her wished she could say his behavior was out of character or unexpected, but it wasn’t. State was being typical State. Nothing about him had really changed. Dylan was the one who had tricked herself into believing that this time around, after time apart, his word would hold true. But State was never there for support. He never was around for her birthday or holidays. He never volunteered to meet her family and friends. He never thought twice about her aborting their baby, but yet and still, there was this so-called love, want, and need for her in his heart that he just couldn’t escape. None of it added up, and Dylan knew it.
She knew that something major was missing between them. Maybe it was the fact that she loved him more than he loved her, or the fact that he never invested as much of himself into their relationship as she did. Dylan just wished he’d see how much she cared for him. If he recognized that, maybe, just maybe, he would appreciate her more and treat her better.
Dylan lay on her side, curled up in the fetal position, in a state between asleep and awake. The ever
Similar Books
