Still Love

They say if it's real, it'll come back... but what if it comes back broken?

Dario isn't the type of man you brag about—he's the one you hide, the one you swear you're done with until you're in his bed again, forgetting every promise you made to yourself. He's danger wrapped in dimples, love wrapped in lies, and passion laced with pain.

I told myself if I had to fight for love, I didn't want it. I told myself if I had to cry to keep him, I didn't need him. But the truth? Even when he's bad for me, I still love him. And maybe that's the most dangerous part.

"FUCKKK!" I yelled, smacking my phone to shut off the alarm. Six a.m. sharp. Which meant I had forty-five minutes to drag my ass out the bed, get cute, and clock in for a job I was already tired of.

I sat up, staring at the wall like it owed me money, giving myself the usual pep talk. "You got this, Richlyn. One more day, then it's the weekend. Push through."

I rolled out of bed and did my morning routine, making sure I looked good—because one thing about me, I wasn't ever stepping out looking busted. Unless I just didn't gaf that day.

By the time I locked up and slid into my car, something clicked in my head. Dario hadn't called or texted me since last night. Not even a "good morning."

My stomach dropped, but I still tapped on his contact. The little picture of us smiling popped up—one of the many we'd taken during our "good" times. His name in my phone? My Man ❤️😩. Yeah, I know.

I hit FaceTime. Ringing. No answer. I tried again. Still nothing. By the fourth time, I already knew what was up. His location was off too. Typical Dario. If his phone wasn't dead, he was laid up with some bitch, doing the exact shit I swore I'd never tolerate again.

And yet... here I was. Still tolerating it. Still loving him. IDIOT

I blamed me, not him. I always gave him passes he didn't deserve, and it was killing me slowly. Dario had been my first everything—first love, first heartbreak, first mistake I couldn't shake. Seven years on and off, and I still hadn't learned how to put myself first.

Shaking my head, I tossed my phone on Do Not Disturb and slid it into the cup holder. He was lucky I had to get to work, otherwise I would've been at his house raising hell. I pulled off, already annoyed, already drained, already planning the magic trick I was gonna pull on him when I got off.

Work came and went faster than I thought, and by five p.m. I was finally free. Halfway home, my phone lit up. My heart jumped—thinking it was him.

But it wasn't. Sasha's name flashed across the screen. My best friend. My voice softened when I answered.

"Hey my girrrlll," Sasha sang in her usual hype tone.

"Hey boo," I said flat, no energy.

"Uh-uh, what's up with you, Judy Moody?" she teased, but I could hear the concern under it.

I sighed. "Girl, Dario ass got his phone on DND. I been blowing him up all day and still ain't heard shit since last night.

"You know I do not like that nigga, and I really wish you'd get a damn grip already, Richy," she sighed as she spoke to me.

I knew the speech was coming. I know she's tired of me and Dario's bullshit—hell, who wouldn't be? I sat and listened to my best friend's words. She's not wrong, so I couldn't even be mad. I needed to hear this, seriously, because I was honestly so damn dumb and stuck on stupid when it came to him.

"Look, Richy," she said. "I know you love Dario. I know the dick good. I know he's your first everything and you've never been with anybody else. But it's either time to leave him or start getting your get back, sista. I'm not saying get it back using your coochie—but hell, that'll work too. All I'm saying is, if you gone stay, better make that nigga feel how he make you feel. Even though I think you could do way better than Dario, I know you—and you love hard. So do as you please, just know I'm here with you in whatever you choose, my girl.

"Also, fuck him. And since we're both off tomorrow, we're going out. We're finding you some new shit, and I'm not taking no for an option."

I giggled a little bit, but I knew her ass was serious, so I had no choice but to go out with her for real. We talked a little more before I pulled up to my apartment. We said our goodbyes and "I love yous," then I got off the phone.

When I got inside, I checked my phone one more time to see if Dario called or texted—still nothing.

BET.

I blocked him and continued on with my night. Game on, nigga.