Salt On My Wounds

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He couldn't help the sigh that left his mouth, feeling frustration cloud his brain. His knee bounced up and down, unable to stay still. He was antsy, worried.....nervous. Clearing his throat, he tried to get the words out of his mouth without thinking about it too hard. He had to ask. He needed to know. He had to get this off his chest.

"Kayla," She immediately raised her head, her gaze leaving her thighs and moving to his face. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose and his knee bounced repeatedly, making her more nervous. He only called her by her real name when he was mad at her, other than that he called her by her nickname; squeak.

"Did you," he paused, feeling like he was about to throw up before he even got the words out.

"Did you fuck him?" He watched her as she slowly lowered her head and looked up at him with big puppy dog eyes. She looked like a five year old girl who was getting told by their parent that they were disappointed in her.

"Yes." She said so quietly, but he heard her anyway. She expected him to start yelling, but instead he started laughing. Confusion was an understatement for her. It was a bitter laugh that he let out. Because nothing about this situation was humorous.

He laughed a little louder and stood from the couch, clapping his hands as he looked down at her. She sat on the floor, legs crossed with her head still lowered.

"Wow." He said.

"Wow. Think you just broke my heart. Good job baby!" He exclaimed, making her jump. The sarcasm and bitterness oozed from his words.

"I'm sorry." It was the only thing she could say. He chuckled darkly.

"Three years." He said, shaking his head. "Three years of me proving that I'm not like these nappy headed niggas out here, proving that I actually care about what's mine. Three years of you telling me you love me. All of that just thrown away and all you have to say is I'm sorry?" He shook his head once again, looking down at her with hatred in his eyes. Even though he didn't hate her. He could never hate her.

She sniffled, tears rolling down her flushed cheeks.

"Stop crying. You don't get to cry." He said coldly.

"You weren't crying when you fucked him." His words hurt her to no end. She fixed her now croaky voice to say something.

"It was a mistake. It meant nothing, I swear." She said in a pleading voice.

He laughed once again. "A mistake? No, a mistake is when you leave your homework in the car or forgetting to roll up your car windows when it rains. Nah, you didn't make a mistake, you fucked up."

She cried more, feeling as empty as a shell. He walked over to her, so slowly.

He squats down to her level, pushing a piece of her long, jet black hair behind her ear. He's so close that it seems like he's about to kiss her.

"Did it make you feel bad when you cheated on yo' man? Or did I even cross your mind?" He didn't wait for her to respond, instead he stood up and snatched his black hoodie off the couch.

"I said all I need to say. Don't call me."

"Khalif." She wheezed out, but he had already slammed the door.

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Kinda short but it's my first one. Comment on your favorite part and tell me if I should continue writing imagines. Message me if you want one! 😘

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