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I heard him mumble the last part.
I didn’t even respond. There was no desire to respond to his ass. I didn’t take anything he said as a compliment. He came off as a fuckin’ entitled ass NBA player. This nigga was probably so used to bitches flocking to him and praising him, treating him like he was a king. He felt that he could do no wrong. This was the same nigga who fuckin’ left me and just disappeared. He ain’t try to send me a letter or nothing when he went off to college.
I had no respect for him because the second he came behind me, he should have opened his mouth with an apology. On top of that, this nigga had years to try to apologize for the shit that he had pulled years ago. I felt like he was only addressing the shit now because he saw me, and he kind of felt like he had to.
“Damn. I knew you would be pissed off with me before I even brought my ass over here,” Truth said, and then I heard him release a sigh.
Within a matter of seconds, I felt him stepping closer to me, and then his strong arms wrapped around my body from behind. I tried to push his arms off me, but he wouldn’t move. I couldn’t even front; he smelled so good, and his arms were so big and strong. From the way he was holding onto me, I instantly noticed how much muscle he’d retained in his arms. Granted, back in high school, he had always had a nice, athletic build, but right now, there was no doubt in my mind that he could lift me up with just one hand.
Looking down at his arms, I saw the many tattoos that he now had, which he never had before. I got lost in his arms for about thirty seconds before I found all the strength that I needed. This time, I pushed his ass off me. I whipped myself around and stared up at him. Beautiful. If I had to describe him in one word, I would say that this nigga was beautiful. Tall as hell. I’m not even kidding, I really thought his ass could be at least seven feet. A nice, strong body with beautiful honey chestnut skin that was pretty much perfect. There wasn’t a zit, a pimple, or bump in sight on his face. I would pay him for his skin routine, although I had phenomenal skin myself.
One of the things that all the girls and I loved about Truth was the hazel eyes that he was blessed with. Back in school, he had a lot of curly, jet black hair. Now, his hair still had that curly look, but it was faded on the sides, and he rocked a nice, curly taper. I mentioned before that he played for the Lakers, so right now, he was in a custom Lakers jersey with his name and number on it. All the ink that covered his arms was visible. He wore gray joggers that he sagged in just a little bit. When my eyes dropped to that curve in his dick, I had to stop looking immediately because flashbacks of prom night resurfaced in my head.
I looked down at his feet, which were in a pair of white Forces, and just like I remembered, his feet were huge! As attractive as he was, and as famous as he was, I didn’t care. The physical shit that I saw would never take away the pain that I endured because of his ass.
“Niggas really shock me more and more every day with the bold shit that y’all pull. Your face is nowhere near good with me. You were better off pretending that you never even saw me. I would have respected you more if you had done that,” I spat at him and then looked out into the road, trying to see if my car had pulled up yet, but it hadn’t. These damn valet drivers were taking forever.
“You got every right to be mad at me, Twinkle. Personally, I don’t even think this the right time or place for me to even bring up the past, but I owe you that much. I would rather apologize for my fucked-up actions to you in private, but judging by the look in your eyes, I’m not sure if I’ll get another chance to even see you. Just know that shit was hard on me too. I cried for months when I had to leave Miami. Most importantly, when I had to leave you. Believe it or not, I loved you back then. Shit, I still love your ass. Back in high school, I ain’t fuck with no girls at the school on some exclusive shit because my trust was fucked up. I didn’t know who was going to be for me, like on some loyal shit versus who was just trying to fuck with me because they knew that my future was going to be promising. I never questioned your motives. I knew that when it came down to it, you could give a fuck about what I had.
“Two days before it was time for me to leave, I started talking to my dad. You know my dad was the one who raised me. I was deeply in love with your ass, so I told my dad that I wanted to stay here and go to the University of Miami and play ball. Back then, they wanted me too. I got my ass cursed out because he knew that I was switching up my decision just to be with you. I’ll admit, I let him get in my head and tell me how I didn’t need no girlfriend at that time and how a girl was only going to slow me down. Breaking up with you was the hardest shit that I ever had to do, but I felt like it was going to be the only thing that would keep me focused up there and—”
“Truth, you don’t owe me an apology. The things that you are telling me right now sounds like a bunch of bullshit. It’s cool, though. That was in the past. I don’t even think about you anymore. From the looks of things, you’re doing good with your life, and I’m in a good place in my life as well. I wish you nothing but the best, but I gotta go. There goes my car,” I said and attempted to walk off, but he reached out and gently grabbed my arm. I could see the sadness in his eyes.
“Ima be in Miami for the next few days. You think we could meet up? I want to finish talking to you,” he said.
As nasty as I wanted to be and chill with him as a way to get some get back on Monterius, I wasn’t even that type of person. Besides, I was pregnant with another man’s baby, so I would never do no foul shit like that.
“No. Take care,” I softly told him, and then I pulled my arm back.
I could tell that it was so much more that he wanted to say and do, but he let me go. I didn’t even give Normani any time to ask about who Truth was. Instead, I just started laying it all out there when she and I got in the car. I explained to her how we met and started dating, and then he asked me to be his date to prom, and how I lost my virginity to him on prom night. I ended it by telling her how he broke up with me the day before he left to go and play ball.
“He was so handsome. I can tell by the way that he was looking at you that he definitely still cares about you. What do you think is going to happen? If you’re done with Monterius for good, do you see yourself getting back with Truth?” Normani asked me from the passenger seat.
I didn’t have an answer for that, so I really just shrugged because, at that moment, I didn’t know. What I did know was that Monterius’ ass was fuckin’ crazy and would, without a doubt, kill any nigga that I even thought about entertaining. I cannot express enough how many times this man has told me that he would kill me and whatever dude I messed with. No, Monterius wasn’t abusive toward me. He’d never even raised his hand and acted like he was going to hit me. Does he jack my ass up from time to time? Yeah, but I had no stories of any physical abuse happening because it never happened.
Normani and I spent the rest of the day together. After having a late brunch, I ended up driving her to the location in Pembroke Pines that I was more than positive would be where I opened my boutique. From there, we ended up hitting up the nail salon, and it felt like we had been in there forever because, on a Saturday afternoon, the place was overly crowded. After that, it was only right that we hit up the mall, which is where the majority of our day was spent.
I chilled out at Normani’s house for at least an hour and decided that I would just drive my car back to my mama’s house. The sun had gone down, and I was turning into my mother’s community when I called her from the car’s Bluetooth.
“Yeah, girl? I’m in the middle of a good ass movie on Lifetime,” was the first thing my mama said when she answered the phone.
I sucked my teeth while rolling my eyes because she always had some shit with her. Loyal and my mother weren’t close at all, and their relationship was pretty much nonexistent. Loyal was still holding onto the past and didn’t want to forgive our mother for the shit that we had to endure when we were younger, but I was actually close with our mother. Even closer now that her ass
was no longer on drugs.
At the most, my mama will have a glass of wine, but that’s as far as it went. The last time that she’d gone to prison, which was the biggest charge of credit fraud, she came home and willingly checked herself into rehab. That was years ago, and I can definitely say that I’ve seen a big change in her.
Loyal could act like she hated our mother all she wanted, but I knew she missed her. While she was doing that prison bid, I knew she needed our mother to be there for her. Although my mama was trying, Loyal was pushing all of her help away. She even took our mother off her visitation list. When my mama sent letters to her at the prison, she never responded.
“Girl! I’ll be pulling up in a few seconds. Come outside, just in case Monterius is lurking in the shadows. I’m driving my car. I didn’t get dropped off,” I told her.
“No! He needs to be lurking in the shadows and snatch your ass up for running off. You got me in the middle of your shit, and him watching my fuckin’ house is fuckin’ with my head. I feel like the feds are outside, watching me like they used to when you and Loyal were little girls. Go home to your man, Twinkle, with your pregnant ass!” she snapped.
I opened my mouth in shock, surprised that she said something about my pregnancy. My mama snapping on me wasn’t even surprising because her mouth had always been crazy. She was the reason why Loyal and I didn’t have a filter on our mouths.
“You gonna come and open the door or not? What if this nigga is outside and he hits me? Come on, ma. You act like you can’t pause the damn movie!” I snapped, annoyed that she wouldn’t come outside.
“Because I know the nigga isn’t silly enough to put his hands on you. Bye, Twinkle, with all your damn drama,” she said and then hung up the phone.
