“Aw, baby. You're smitten with her.” She was smiling. I didn’t know if smitten was the right word, but Monroe had a nigga head gone. Every second I was around her, I contradicted myself. I couldn’t fall for her, but she was mine. I wanted her to have her freedom but didn’t want to let her out of my sight. It was fucked up, and I found myself being something I never thought I would be… a wishy-washy ass nigga.
