Page 63 of He Don't Play About Me
Bully saw me coming and smiled.
“Wussup, sis, how you feelin’ today?” he asked as I hugged him.
“I’m good. I’m not gonna keep you long, I just wanted to give you the key to the house.”
I handed him the key, and he stared at it for a minute.
“To you and Gio’s new house?”
“To Gio’s house,” I corrected him. “I told you I was leaving. I forgot I had the ring and the key too.”
Bully shook his head.
“This shit is gonna set this nigga off, you know that, right? He already mad off with the lil’ shit I told him about you.”
I sucked my teeth. “I don’t care about him being mad. He doesn’t believe that I’m done; that’s a shame on him.”
Bully nodded and opened his arms wide for a hug.
“Iight, girl, be safe wherever you go. Holla at me if you ever need me.”
I nodded and headed back to my car. As I started it, I exhaled, but this time, it felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders.
“Well, I’m officially done, Gio.”
“I’m proud of you, baby You are doing what is right for you.”
Shit, I was proud of myself.
When we got back home, Ma finished helping me by sorting through the lil’ things I brought in there: important docs, records, and anything special my parents wanted me to take with me. It was very tedious and felt like the final step, but it wasnecessary. I was ready to go by this point, but for some reason, my chest was still in knots.
Gio.
That nigga never left my thoughts for a second. My mind was made up, but my heart was still craving him, wanting him. But I had to keep tellin’ myself that distance was the only way. Atlanta wasn’t just a change of scenery; it was a fresh start.
Later that evening, I sat on the bed with a glass of wine, staring at the neatly packed suitcases I had in my room. It was quiet, almost too quiet. I checked my phone, half expecting some alert, some call, some message from Gio, but there was nothing. Not a text, not a missed call, not even one of those stupid ass emoji just to let me know he was thinking about me.
I let out a slow breath and muttered to myself, “Finally… maybe he’s letting go.”
But even as the words left my lips, I knew they weren’t true. He never let things go, and that thought made the pit in my stomach tighten.
I poured myself another glass of wine and moved to the window, leaning against the frame, looking up at the night sky. The fading lights reflecting off the city below, cars moving like lil’ red and white dots down the streets I knew like the back of my hand. LA had always felt alive to me, loud and bright, full of opportunity and danger all wrapped up in the same breath.
But that night felt heavy, like it was watching me.
I sipped my wine slow and forced my mind somewhere else. Atlanta, my new place, the job. A whole new city that didn’t know me, and didn’t know Gio.
That was what I needed.
By the time the glass was empty, I started to feel tired. The type of tired that came from thinking too damn much.
I pushed away from the window, set the glass on the dresser, and hopped into bed. The house was quiet. My parents werealready in their room, and the only sound I could hear through the house was the air kicking on and cars passing by outside now and then.
At some point, I must’ve drifted off, and when I woke up, I felt strange. Like something was off.
I sat up in bed and looked for my phone when my bedroom door opened, and I jumped.
“Gio?” I said as he walked into the room.
