This Is The Last Time Pt. 1
Heavily breathing, his bed carries the weight of my body, effortlessly, as always. The side of my thigh digs into his lime green bed sheets.
His room hasn’t changed at all. The light of his bedside lamp lights the right side of his apartment as the remaining of its light pours slowly into the other half. The glass of his Polo Blue captures the light on its edges as it sits on his old beat up 6-drawer dresser on the left-hand side of the apartment. None of the drawers are aligned anymore. Hate that thing.
After adjusting myself for the sixth time, I finally decide that I should remove my jeans as I wait. I quickly unbutton the top button and unzip. I feel my hot breathe crash against my chest as I look down at my legs, ripping my jeans off of them. My heart still races. I kick off the remainder of my jeans and toe kick it off the edge of his bed.
I hear the thump the cheap lighter in my back pocket makes has it hits the wooden floors. I should have smoked more.
It’s been 3 years since we broke up.
That day never leaves my head. Best decision I’ve made thus far with my life. What a pig! A disgrace of a man he is.
I remember the gaze his eyes would have when the light of his phone would bounce off them as he stared into that screen with his brightness so annoyingly high, as I would lay next to him on this same bed.
“Just Justin’s stupid ass texting me about the game.” He would say after my lips would release the common “what ya looking at, babe?”
Angelica Rodriguez was the first one. Nice girl. Had no idea who I was. I was more saddened for her than myself when the truth finally came out. He chose me. I can hear the New-York-Rican explode out of her mother’s mouth, “I told your stupid ass that Dominican men are pigs and are good for nothing. He don’t even give a shit about his own madre, que lo parió!” At least, that’s how I imagined it went down.
Gosh, I hate these socks! I need to do my laundry. I skin my feet of them and toss them to the corner of the room.
He’s a charming motherfucker. That’s why I stayed. Them stupid dimples didn’t help either. Gosh, I hated that smile. Colgate-teeth-having, bastard.
“You know, you still love me, ma.” He would smirk as he spoke those words. I did. Son of a bitch had me tied up. I was his puppet. He was my puppeteer.
Now, Jasmine De Los Santos was a tramp! She knew about me and still fucked him. With her, he smiled a lot more at his phone and never got off it.
Jasmine had a fit. She was the crazy type. Came banging at his door. “You know her pussy ain’t mine! You’ll come running back!” Her voice would echo the entire 3rd-floor hallway of 596 East. But that was nothing new for Fordham.
Pride. That’s why I stayed after this one. I felt good when he chose me. Something about him smiling at his phone so much when she’d text him irked me. Maybe it was the fact that, that cheesy ass smile was being smiled for someone else. I don’t know, but it felt good him choosing me over her.
I couldn’t control my breathing. This was now a weekly thing but still, every time felt like the first. The excitement of breaking into his studio and the nerves that covered every inch of my body imagining how he would react when he walked through that heavy metal door.
Fuck, look at all those dishes. I can tell it’s been days since water has touched those plates. Mind you, he only has about three of them. He must be ordering in. He wasn’t a bad cook. He was just lazy as fuck.
I straighten my shirt but not enough to cover my belly button. I pull my panties up from the back to expose more of the side of my cheek as I straighten one leg out. I release my hair from its bun…
Gosh! I almost forgot to untie my hair. He hates my hair tied up. He loves loose hair.
I feel my curls caress my cheeks.
Suddenly, I hear the elevator slam down onto this floor. I hear his loud steps in the hallway. Walks like he weighs 250 pounds.
I adjust quickly. I grab the v-neck collar of my shirt and pull down on it hard. Cleavage is a man’s weakness.
I hear the scratching of his key on the doorknob.
You’re so fucking stupid! I think to myself.
I grab his only pillow on his queen size bed and tuck it slightly under me and wrap my arms around it. I’m trying to be cute.
The lock on his door turns and I hear its loud click as it unlocks. I see the bronze doorknob turn. He pushes hard on the door for it to open.
That door was always too heavy.
“Fucking, Nicole.” He smirks.
My breathing almost stops.
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