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"Naija, we need to talk."

Everytime you heard a 'we need to talk', nothing good ever came out of it.

I took a deep breath, sat upright and closed the book I was reading. Then I watched as my boyfriend sat in front of me and placed his hands on the table.

"Please."

It'd been two weeks since I saw Toby, and I was the one doing the avoiding. I ran home in the rain, which was a far distance, considering that I was wet and all, and I was probably looking like a manic with my hair all frizzy in the rain, but I still ran. The moment I got to my apartment I threw off my clothes and ran into the bathroom to vomit. Then I crawled into the shower to cry. I'd left Toby standing in the rain like a fool. But I was the bigger fool for believing my past would never catch up with me.

On the first day he called and called but I refused to pick up the phone. On the second day, he called again but I switched off my phone. On the third day he sent emails and faxes. On the fourth day he came to my apartment and knocked for hours but I refused to open the door. I hadn't gotten out of bed for four days except to use the bathroom and eat. I didn't take my bath or brush my teeth. I didn't do anything to my hair. I didn't even change my clothes. "Naija, I know you're in there. Please. Open the door. I miss you." My chest tightened and I started to sob. He wouldn't miss me of he knew about Jay. On the fifth day he sent Gold to me but I ignored her.

"I thought you loved this guy. Why are you avoiding him?"

She and I were the only ones at the coffee shop that evening. We were taking our orders over the counter. I sighed heavily and turned to face her. "You remember Jay, right?"

"Yes. What about him? What's he got to— Oh." She'd read it off my face. "They're related, aren't they?" I nodded and felt my lips tremble. "Shit, Naija, I'm sorry." She then took her coffee, patted my shoulder and left. Then he stopped coming after me and gave me a week and two days' breathing space.

Now, we were in the isolated part of the library, he sitting in front of me and his eyes pleading. "I've given you enough time. Babe, we are in a relationship, you don't push your partner away. You're supposed to talk about it. Aren't you comfortable to me? D-d-do I need to change? Was it something I did?" The lump in my throat was hard to swallow. He reached across the table to hold my hand but I drew them back and put them on my lap.

"I am. No. No." My lips started to tremble and I couldn't stop myself from crying. "It's not you; it's me. It's me. It's always me." I put my head in my hands and started to sob. I felt so dirty; so messed up, so toxic for Toby. He was soon by my side, hugging me to his chest. "I'm a terrible person, Toby... A really terrible person. You'd hate me if you knew," I said, hiccups and sobs and all. He used his hand to wipe my face.

"Tell me."

"I can't!" I yelled, and snatched myself out of his hands. "You'll hate me." I raised my head and looked into his eyes. He was hurt. "Please."

We were quiet for some time, and I saw Toby's face fall. His voice dropped to a whisper. "What's the worst that could have happened, huh?"

I sighed and hugged my arms to myself, looking away, feeling ashamed. "Jay and I..." My voice broke, a lump forming in my throat, tears running down my face, "were friends with benefits."

"Oh, fuck no!" That was the first time I heard Toby cuss. "You're serious?!" I couldn't reply. I just sat there, numb, broken, hurt... Damaged. He took shaky breaths, panting, trying hard to breathe. "When?"

"Three years ago. I put him in a coma afterwards." He threw his head back and sniffed. Toby was crying. I was making Toby cry. My heart broke immediately. Since I was saying everything I might as well tell him the part where I fucked his best friends, but he didn't need to know that. I had already broken his heart with what I was telling him.

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