' 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗘 𝗦𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗜𝗡 ' › D. SWING

26.

Rhonda.

It had been a while since I had taken off to care for Donald but of course I had a career to keep up with so I decided to stay in New York after flying out to take him to Uptown records to meet with Andre, which he wasn't too happy about since that meant we'd be apart once again. I have to admit, during the weeks I've spent with Donald, it felt like old times. No one standing in the way of us communicating, no arguments, just enjoying each other's company and catching up on things. Unfortunately, it had come to an end, but it was probably for the best. Spending too much time with him would've had me falling in love all over again, which is something I didn't want to risk. Don't get me wrong, Donald's a great guy but it seemed as if we were better off being just friends. He had a habit of leaning on me when he's in his most vulnerable state then becoming detached once he's got his strength back. It was emotionally draining because I would give so much of myself in his time of need only to be left out to dry when I needed him. I loved him more than I've loved anybody, and that itself put me between a rock and a hard place. Sometimes it was as if he was afraid of love.

I climbed out of the cab as the driver popped the trunk and helped me get my luggage. I thanked him and paid him his cab fare before pulling the luggage behind me while I walked through the gated doorway of my apartment complex, making sure to close it back. I made my way to my door, pushing my key into the lock and turning it then walked into the apartment, hearing the sound of glass shattering into small pieces underneath my shoes. My eyes scanned the foyer which looked to be fairly normal but as I walked further in the apartment, I could see graffiti sprayed on the walls of the hallway and living room. What the fuck?

The cushions on the couch had large slits in them, the cotton scattered along the arm rests and rug while the pictures of my family and friends were on the carpet with cracked frames and broken glass. The television was caved in as if someone hit it with an axe. On the walls, Til' death do us part was spelled out in red spray paint. Reading those words sent chills down my spine, making me feel uneasy as I stepped back, gradually moving backward toward the door while reaching into my pocket to pull out my cellphone and dialing Mary J's number. Please pick up, please pick up. Once I had finally reached the door, I didn't waste any time leaving out of the apartment, picking up my luggage and jogging out of the complex onto the sidewalk as I nervously looked at my surroundings as pedestrians walked passed me on their way to their destination.

"Hi, you've reached Mary—"

"J fuckin' Blige!", K-Ci yelled out, interrupting her.

"I can't get to my phone right now but leave your name and number and I'll hit you back", she spoke through her laughter. Beep!

I hung up the phone. Great. Now, what am I gonna' do? I knew of no one else in New York who could protect me aside from Puffy, and I really didn't want to be bothered with him, but I guess I had no choice at this point. I needed somebody to talk to before I had a panic attack and there was no way in hell I was telling Donald with in the condition he's in. Besides, he just made it back to Los Angeles, which is a 5 hour flight. Contacting him was out of the question.

I began to head toward Bad Boy Records, my heart and mind racing as I thought about what I saw at my apartment. It couldn't have been no one but Nasir since he was the only person who had the key to my apartment, and clearly still had it if he locked the door back after destroying my shit. I was overwhelmed, wondering how a man I had grown to love and know as I sweet person could do something so evil. It didn't make sense and it was almost hard to believe. Just like it was hard to believe he nearly beat Donald to death. It was too much to take in all at once. The fact that I almost lost Donald and had broke up with my boyfriend who I'm currently getting death threats from him—yeah, it was just too much.