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“You this territorial with all the women you pick up?” “I don’t know shit about these imaginary women you speak of, but this ain’t that. I’m not trying to “pick you up.” I already told you the night we met what I was on when it came to you. You need to hear it again?”
“Don’t play with me, Zariah. I’m not letting you get into some random nigga’s car at three o’clock in the morning.”
Gushing over niggas did not come naturally to me.
“It’s okay to admit that something bothered you, Z.” Gabe stood up straighter, giving me space that I didn’t want. “But don’t you ever open your pretty ass mouth again to tell me I’m not yours.” Well, shit. “Do I make myself clear?”
“I keep telling you I’m not somebody you can pick a petty fight with. I love you too much. We talk shit out over here. If I fucked up, communicate it so I can fix it.”
So many times he claimed I was his peace. But he was my sanctuary. My safe place. My solace.
Oh, and he was nasty as fuck. I loved that shit.