Caly is just an aspiring Artist from Ohio. She's settling for a life with her longtime boyfriend, Slim, who's also a local Artist. When she is met with an opportunity to pursue her dreams and live a different life, she's conflicted. Does she stick t...
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SLIM
Everyone knows a couple who just can't leave each other alone. No matter what happens, they're coming to the next function together. Not the ones who bring their arguments to social media, or the ones crying to their family and friends. I'm talking bout the ones who are inseparable, regardless of their problems within the relationship.
That used to be Caly and I. Outside influences didn't affect our relationship, and we didn't play that public display of our relationship issues shit. We dealt with that shit one on one, or not at all.
Rodney took care of Jason's body and had a "friend of a friend" clean up the mess. With my schedule being free for the week, I stayed home to finish the job. That wasn't going too well, cause Caly cleaned the house the right way. I didn't even know where to begin.
The tornado that went through my apartment had to be intense. I couldn't see my bedroom floor, and almost every hanger to the clothes on the floor had been snapped. Luckily, my TV & P5 was in perfect condition. Which meant nothing to me, now that my life demanded more than being able to sit and play the game all day like I was used to.
Getting rid of Jason's belongings out of my guest room was mandatory. So, I bagged everything up, planning to take it to Goodwill. I helped myself to any weed or money he had stashed, and kept a pair of his tan suede Air Force 1's.
"Yeah, these bitches mine." I said, dusting off the unworn soles and admiring the texture of the suede.
It was tempting to claim a few more items, cause that nigga had some nice shit. But, integrating this whole wardrobe with my didn't sound like a bright idea.
By the time I finished bagging everything up, Goodwill was definitely closed for the day. In the meantime, I was gonna stuff everything in my car to get it out of my house. Just in case. I grabbed the biggest industrial trash bag full of clothes, and started to drag it towards the back door. But, then there was a knock at the front door.
"Fuck!" I said under my breath.
Not expecting anyone tonight, I panicked. I shoved all the bags in the guest room closet, and made the bed. The knocks persisted, shaking me up. My heart was pounding outta my chest. Checking the peephole, I was staring at a familiar face.
"London?" I said as I pulled the door open.
She had a suitcase and a sadness to her. Her head dropped, picking at her nails. Still in shock, I just stared at her. When words failed to be exchanged, I grabbed her suitcase and brought it inside. She followed, so I closed the door behind her. Then, we fell into each other's arms as if no time had past since the day we met.
We squeezed tight, breathing as if we'd just been holding our breath all this time. Yet, it was calm and reassuring. Tears filled up in my eyes as her face snuggle in my chest. Having her so close was the first familiar feeling I'd felt in a long time. I needed that. All my worries had disappeared and I was finally at peace.
