I sat on the edge of the bed, my body was tingling from the other night's pleasure. The room was bathed in the soft light of the evening, the sun was setting in Minnesota. filtering through the curtains. The clock beside the bed read 6:35 PM, and Anthony had already disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of the shower running and his music playing.
Anthony's phone laid on the bed next to me, its screen lighting up with each incoming message. The vibrations were insistent, almost demanding attention. I glanced at the screen, my curiosity increased.
It was the name "Shannon" that flashed repeatedly, a name that sent a chill down my spine. Anthony had assured me that there was nothing going on between them, but the frequency of the messages told a different story.
This nigga got me fucked up on my mama.
And then he stood there in my face and told me a bold face lie.
He told me that they didn't have anything going on. The bitch calling his phone tells me something otherwise, he definitely did fuck her or he's either cheating on me with her. How could my stupid ass believe that bullshit? Maybe that's why he fucked me good that night to make me forget that shit, ian gone lie it did work but seeing that bitch text his phone brought back memories.
My heart began to pound as I took the phone, my fingers trembling slightly. I knew I shouldn't look, but the nagging doubt within me was impossible to ignore. I tried to unlock the phone, but the password was different from the one I knew. A knot formed in my stomach, and I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. Why did he need a different password? Why was he hiding something from me?
Tears welled up in my eyes as realization dawned on me. He had lied to me. I had let him in, believing his words, his promises. The phone began to ring, and "Shannon" flashed across the screen. Acting on impulse, I answered the call, my voice shaking with emotion.
