08|TO no avail

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I'm in airplane mode
I don't need no drama

///


MY QUEEN 👑💕

Michael, I'm sorry about everything.

Read

Can we talk this out?
Please?

Delivered

I just want to explain everything.

Delivered

I miss you...
Talk to me.
I love you ❤️

Delivered


Missed Calls

MY QUEEN 👑💕
MY QUEEN 👑💕
Pre 💯💪🏾
MY QUEEN 👑💕
MY QUEEN 👑💕
MY QUEEN 👑💕


Voicemail

Mike, I'm so sorry for everything and I meant it when I said I never set you up. I would never do that to you. *a brief pause was heard and some shuffling noises* I love you and I understand you mad and have every right to be. Baby, I can't take this. Please let me make this right. *another pause* I'll give you your space. Hit me up whenever you can. Bye.

00:36


MAY 19, 2016

IT'S been a week since Jaytee done what he done and Michael distancing himself from everyone; he needed his space, that is. That night he went off on Jireh was like a blur. So many emotions were up in the air and he said anything that came to mind. Hurtful words that he knew made her cry. It was all in her features and body language.

IN all honesty, Michael didn't break up with her. He was just angry and needed to be left alone, which is why he had been ignoring her messages and calls along with everyone else trying to contact him. His mother and Pre were the only exception. Eventually, he'd have to come around, but he just needed this time to himself.

AS for his shop, that's what insurance was for and it would be back up and running in a couple months. But trying to make sure Jaytee took accountability for vandalism, it seemed he had some kind of connection to bail himself out. It only pissed Michael off furthermore. Jaytee definitely had it coming for him and it was on sight—no words exchanged.

MICHAEL found himself traveling to his mother's house, cruising the warm weather on his sportsbike. It was something about riding his bike that cleared his thoughts, especially when a lot was going on in his life. Once he pulled into the driveway behind the car he bought his mother Lynne last year, he killed the engine to his bike, popped out the kickstand, and unstrapped his helmet before placing it onto the seat where he once sat. He approached his mother gardening near the front porch of the brick house he used to call home.

She stood up, removed the dirty gloves from her hands, and flashed a smile one in resemblance of her son's. "Hey, son!"

"Hey, mama," he greeted her, pulling her in for a hug. He placed a chaste kiss inside the crease of her neck as their bodies rocked gently.

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