Page 43 of In Too Deep

“Surviving, since you act like you can’t pay for my needs anymore.”

I turned my head and glared at her. Her arms were folded over her small breasts. I noticed the neat lace under the bonnet, it was different than the way it looked a few days ago. Funny how my kitchen was nasty, but her lace was always kept. I’ll never lie when I say her priorities are dipped in the wrong basket.

“Mane, don’t put this shit on me, Trecee. You spend your money on bullshit. That ain’t on me. That’s on yo ass. Fuck you think money grow on trees or sum’”?

“No,” she sighed. “I have needs and wants just like you do. I don’t see the problem when it’s never been a problem before.”

“You ‘round this bitch flossin’ on my dime. Flexin’ to ya girls like shit sweet ‘round here. They don’t be knowin’ half of the shit you and I go through, man.” Roughly tossing a dish in the sink, it clashed against the other ones, causing it to break.”

“I didn’t know all of this was on your mind,” she muttered way too calm for liking.

“There wasn’t no fine print when you and I got together. My only flaw was being so blind to your bullshit, feeling sorry for yo ass about where you came from. I was your lottery ticket, andyou still didn’t hit it. How many times have I told you to invest in yourself, so you’ll be straight, never knowing what may go down between us?”

“Where is all of this coming from, Rome?” she frowned.

“You killin’ me always acting clueless and shit.” Staggering past her, I shook my head, becoming pissed off by the second, each step built rage and unease.

The bedroom was clean, but the bathroom was gutted with all of her shit on both sides of the sink. I wanted to dig another hole in her ass, but that wouldn’t do any good.

“I’m not ready yet, though. That’s a huge responsibility, Rome.”

“That’s what bosses got to deal with. Stop thinking like a rookie. Responsibilities exist everywhere. That’s what comes with being grown. Taking care of yo ass, making sure you drive nice shit and these lights stay on and the bills are kept paid, is a fucking responsibility, but you don’t see me around here complaining.”

“Rome,” she scoffed. “Can we at least talk without you doing all of this yelling?”

“We’re talking.”

“Without the yelling,” she pleaded.

Leaning against the bathroom counter, I pinched the bridge of my nose tightly. I was close to lashing out. Synthia didn’t partake in anof y this. These feelings were always there. I just liked to pretend they were null. Day by day, she was acting like a tick in my ass with her hand always out and shit.

“State your defense,” I calmly spoke, granting her request.

“What happened to us?” she muttered in a sad tone. “I miss the old us. Now you look at me like you hate me. You don’t hold me at night. You don’t call me and tell me how much you love me anymore.”

Trotting over to me, when she wrapped her arms around me, I didn’t feel anything. Not an ounce of emotion washed through me. It was the least bit romantic. The love I had for her was running out, sinking like quicksand. Trecee just didn’t have the common sense to see that. I’d been feeding her habit and watering it like a seed. This shit was getting old.

“Trecee,” I mumbled, gripping her hands to pry them from around my waist. “Baby, I need you to learn how to exist without me, love. I won’t always be here. Haven’t I told you from the beginning to have plan B if plan A don’t work out?”

“You have, but,” her voice croaked. “Are you leaving me?”

“I can’t keep doing this back and forth shit. You need to get your shit together and you need to do it fast.”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” she cried, tears running down her face. I felt bad seeing her cry, and it was breaking me. I love her just as much as I hate her, and that’s the problem. “Whatever you want me to do!”

“Don’t let me forcing you to get on your shit, be the reason that you’re standing here seeming desperate with tears running down your face and shit Trecee.” I took her chin between my thumb and forefinger, the slight pressure causing her to flinch, and looked intently into her eyes. “Get on your shit because you want to do it. That’s all I been telling you from the get go. Don’t force the hustle mentality on yourself, dealing with me. I was your stepping stone and you blew it.”

“Romeeee,” she whimpered, her bottom lip quivering. “I’ll do it. I’ll get the shop. I did a thing and went to the doctor. They’ve been misdiagnosing me this whole time. I know why I have the odor down there.”

I pulled back, crossing my arms in front of me. “Oh, for real?” My brow raised with curiosity.

“Yessss,” she nodded her head, trying to reassure me. “They said I have a tilted uterus, so it’s easy for bacteria to get trapped. That’s why the BV occurs consistently.”

“How the fuck you get that?”

“It’s more common than you think,” she sniffled, putting her head down and began to twiddle with her thumbs. “When my period comes, leftover blood gets trapped, causing it. The factors are various.”

“You been fucking off? We haven’t been fucking.”

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