Teach me how (GxG - INTERSEX)

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"Get the fuck out!"

Ronnie put her hands up, watching as her girlfriend of almost a year screamed and hurled items of clothing out of the bedroom window. They were on the sixth floor of a New York City apartment building, and the wind caught the fabric, sending Ronnie's wardrobe fluttering down toward the pavement like colorful confetti.

"Baby, please, I didn't mean to—"

"I don't bloody care, Ron, this is the fifth time you've pulled this shit and I just can't, okay? I really fucking can't."

Melanie turned away, arms wrapping around herself, her blonde hair shaggy and untamed. Ronnie took a breath and stepped forward, reaching out. "I know, I'm sorry, but if you just let me explain I can—"

She whipped around, pushing Ronnie away, tears streaming down her face. "You can what? Tell me what possibly made you sleep with yet another woman in our bed? God, I can't believe you."

Ronnie sucked in a breath and looked away, fists clenching. She felt the familiar, suffocating heat of frustration rising in her chest. "Please, Mel, baby, just let me fix this."

"You can't fix this, Ronnie," Melanie's voice broke. She ran her hands through her hair, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I think you should move out."

Ronnie's jaw tightened. "What? Come on, Melanie. I mean, over this? You know I love you."

"This isn't about love! This is about you growing the fuck up. You're like a child, Ronnie, and I'm sick of feeling like I have to mother you while trying to love you."

Ronnie crossed her arms, a scoff escaping her. "Are you serious right now? You're on my back all the fucking time! It's suffocating! And I'm the child? Fuck you, all you do is complain every goddamn minute of the day."

The sting on Ronnie's left cheek was sudden and sharp. Her head snapped to the side, pain flaring where Melanie's hand had connected. Ronnie clenched her fists, pressing her tongue to the inside of her cheek to stop the insults from spilling out.

"Don't you fucking dare," Melanie sobbed, "I love you, Ronnie. I really do, but you need professional help. Until you get it, I don't want you anywhere near me. I can't handle the cheating, the lying, the defensiveness. I can't worry about turning my back and you fucking off to some other slut!"

Melanie grabbed a bag and threw it at Ronnie before snatching her keys. "I'm going to work. When I get back, I don't want to see you here."

"Fine!" Ronnie shouted as Melanie headed for the door. "Don't come crying back to me once you realize what a selfish bitch you're being!"

The slam of the door echoed through the apartment. Ronnie stared at the handle, expecting it to turn, expecting the cycle to reset. But the silence that followed was deafening.

"FUCK!" Ronnie flipped the dining room table with every ounce of strength she had. Salt and pepper shakers shattered on the tile; a vase exploded, spilling water and petals across the floor. She kicked the overturned table again and again, the pain in her foot barely registering over the noise in her head.

"YOU DON'T GET TO DO THIS TO ME!"

She snatched a picture frame from the shelf and hurled it at the wall. Glass rained down. Ronnie slid down the wall, sitting among the shards and the roses, her breathing ragged.

She couldn't leave. Not now. Not after everything.

Ronnie gripped her hair, yanking hard enough to sting, then slammed the heel of her palm into her forehead. Idiot. Fucking idiot.