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"We need to talk,"he demanded.
"About what De..."
"Everything." . .
IZZY
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I scoffed in disbelief. Is this man serious? Talk? Ain't shit to possibly talk about. This man publicly humiliated me in front of millions, and now he demands to talk? He must've bumped his fucking head.
"Tuh...now you wanna talk?" I smiled sarcastically at my ex, rolling my eyes.
"Izzy, don't start."
"No YOU don't start! Do you have any idea what the fuck you've done to me?!" I raised my voice instantaneously. I've worked so hard to break away from this phase of my life..brokenness, hurt, embarrassment. I've been trying my best to move forward yet here I am, giving the time of day to somebody who doesn't deserve it, who doesn't deserve me.
I hadn't spoken to, or even looked in this man's direction for the past 2 months, unless it regarded business. Strictly business, yet here he is trying to demand my time and ear as if shit is sweet.
"I know Iz-," he began to say but I interrupted him, not giving a damn about what he has to say.
"Do you really?! In case you forgot because of you, my fuckin life SUCKS! How could you...uggghh!"I growled, running both my hands through my black hair with anger. The very sight of this man makes my skin crawl..my blood boil!
"Izzy please calm-," he stated sternly, his fist clenched as I continued to rant. Fuck it I don't care, he wants to talk? Oh we'll talk! I'll talk.
"Ha, what am I to you now huh? A charity case? A drunk who needs fixing—"
"DAMN IT IZZAH!"
DeVante banged his fist against the wall making me jump back against the back of my bed. He rushed up to me and grabbed my face with both open palms. His jaws locked, eyes widened with urgency as he stared me dead in the eyes.
