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"Yeah, you can't stay long Bey."
She looked up from her phone, raising her brow. "And why not? Do you have somewhere to be?"
I nodded, leaning up off my pillows and grabbing my water from the side of the bed. Beyoncé has been here damn near all week and it was fun spending family time together.
BUT, this was all confusing. I genuinely do want to give Beyoncé another chance with me, but I was self destructive.
Sometimes, I missed Riley and honestly I wasn't over her. I hated the fact that our last words were her telling me how much she hated me and me giving her that same energy out of anger. I didn't mean it, I didn't hate Riley.
She was the only person that I've ever been with, that never did me wrong. We were literally together for two years, with barely any real problems. I hate that I had to be the person to fuck up our relationship, because she was so good to me. Way too good to me.
It was too good to be true, but it was true and I ruined it. I wasn't going to dwell over it because there was nothing I could do now. Especially, since things got physical between us.
I wanted to speak with her, even though we ended up fighting; I still just wanted to give her a genuine apology, in person. But I couldn't.
I'd never seen her like that and I mean never. God knows how she feels about me. It's been almost a month since everything went down and I knew she got up out that cell not too far after me.
As soon as I got to my phone after Bey bailed me out, I'd been on her instagram. I was an asshole to her and after everything, I didn't even get to apologize about it.
Bey nudged my arm and knocked me right back into reality.
I sat up, "Huh? Sorry."
"You said you were leaving. Where are you going and why do I have to leave?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
I chuckled, "You sassy today baby."
"I'm a lady. I'm allowed to be sassy." She rolled her neck, "Where are you going Onika?"
"I don't have to answer you Beyoncé." I pursed my lips, just bothering her.
She looked at me, raising her brow and I wanted to laugh. Beyoncé was a lot of things, but intimidating wasn't one of it.
Actually, I'm lying. She definitely has it in her; or maybe it could be the dick.
I thought she'd smart mouth me back but instead she grabbed my bottom lip, squeezing as she pulled.
"Bitch!" I screamed, slapping her on her thigh so she'd let me go. "Ow Bey! That shit hurts! Asshole." I held my lip, staring her down. In my brain, I was wondering if I should hit her at all, or how hard should I even hit her.
