14. anthony's angel

The past has always had a way of finding Anthony—and when it shows up at his door, he has a choice to make: walk away or repeat history.

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ANTHONY HARRIS

"Anthony."

Keisha said my name slow, stretching out each syllable like she was testing the air between us.

The lamp near the entryway flickered, its glow spilling across her face in shifting waves—softening her in some places, sharpening her in others. She was so damn beautiful.

And that was the problem.

I used to watch her sleep back in college, used to lie awake just staring, wondering how the hell I got so lucky. She was my dream back then.

But standing here now, hand still warm from the grip of my gun, this wasn’t a dream. This was a fucking nightmare.

My fingers flexed around the gun before I exhaled, slow and steady, lowering it. She didn’t flinch. Not a blink, not a step back. Just held her ground, chin lifted, like she knew she had no right to be here—but also knew damn well I wouldn’t put so much as a scratch on her.

And she was right.

I slid the piece back into the holster, straightening.

That’s when she smirked.

Slow. Knowing.

She was wrapped in a trench coat, like it wasn’t the dead heat of summer. And I didn’t have to guess what was underneath.

That body? Thick in all the right places, just got better with every kid she had—for somebody else. Any other night, I might’ve ripped that coat to shreds, had her bent over the couch while I made her feel every second she kept that pussy away from me. Would’ve made her apologize the way she always did—with my dick in her throat, tears in her eyes, not just from the size of me but from the weight of her own guilt.

But tonight? I didn’t want shit from her.

Not when Angel and Derek were waiting for me.

“The fuck are you doing here?” My tone was flat, even. Unmoved.

She scoffed, sharp and sudden, like a record scratching mid-song. As if I ruined a seductive script she wrote.

“That’s how you greet me? After dodging my calls since June? And did you block me today?” She folded her arms, hip cocked, like she had the right to be offended. “Is that how we’re moving now?”

I sucked my teeth, slow. “No reason for you to be blowing me up. We don’t got nothing to talk about.” My eyes stayed on her, steady, but cold. “Why the hell are you in my house?”

She parted her lips to answer, but I shook my head before she could get a word out.

“Nah. Don’t even matter.” I exhaled, flexing my jaw. “You need to go.”

“Ant,” she said, stepping closer. Her voice dropped, taking on that familiar lilt—like she thought she still had that pull.

I stepped back.

Her brows pulled together, eyes flicking over me, searching. Trying to figure out what was different.

“I’ve been trying to check on you since the accident,” she said, her voice soft now. “I saw you running toward it and—”

And just like that, I was pissed again.

The memory hit like a body blow—her standing there, picture-perfect with her little family, smiling, living the life she chose to live with someone else, just minutes before I pulling people out of the wreckage.

My jaw locked, anger curling up my spine. “Why were you even there, Keisha? Huh?” My voice came out low, tight—sharp enough to cut. “You wanted to parade what we were supposed to have in front of me? Twist the knife in my back a little deeper?”

She swallowed hard. “I—Curtis insisted we go.”

I let out a cold laugh, shaking my head. “Oh, your wannabe-ass husband?” The words tasted bitter on my tongue. “Let me guess—he wanted to rap for my brother? Or flex? Try to make himself feel important?”

Curtis was just like every other snack-ass dude trying to be something. Trying to climb higher than his pockets allowed. He could dress it up all he wanted with his little social club, but at the end of the day, he was still the same dude from Juniper. Just with a little more money and a whole lot of fronting.

“Ant, don’t do that,” she said, stepping in again, her voice dipping into that old, familiar tone. Sweet. Careful. Manipulative.

“Do what?”

“Bring him up.” Her lashes flickered, her lips curving, like we were in on some kind of secret. “You know this is our time.”

My laugh came out low, sharp. “Curtis. Your husband.” I let the word stretch between us like poison. “You don’t want me to bring him up? It’s ruining the fun you came over here to have?”

Her lips pressed together, jaw tightening. “You can be so petty sometimes.”

I sucked my teeth, slow.

“I can be petty too,” she murmured, stepping in closer. Her voice softened, dipped into something lower, something dangerous.

And then—just like I knew she would—she opened that damn trench coat and dropped it to the ground.

Nothing but skin.

The air in the room shifted, thickened, like it was suddenly too full of history, too full of bad decisions.

The soft glow from the lamp traced over her curves, highlighting every place my hands knew well—gold spilling over smooth chocolate skin, shadows catching in the dips of her waist, the swell of her hips, the arch of her collarbone.

My body remembered her. I willed my dick to stand down.

The devil on my shoulder whispered, low and slick.

Take her. Pick her up. Drop her on this dick. Remind her where she belongs—despite the ring on her finger. Remind her of the vows she’s been so willing to break for me for over a decade.

Be with the devil I knew.

Send her home to her husband with me dripping down her thighs and her voice hoarse from screaming my name—

Telling me Curtis didn’t fuck her like I did. That she loved me. That she would never love anybody like she loved me. Not even her husband. The father of her children.

Her nipples stood at attention, dark and peaked, two chocolate kisses aimed dead at me like a loaded gun. And between her thighs? Smooth, freshly waxed, her body practically begging to be claimed. Telling me it missed me. Needed me.

Daring me to resist her.

Knowing I was going to fold.

Nah.

Because while the devil was loud, there was something louder.

Angel.

My Angel. A literal angel.

The woman I just devoured in my bed like someone finally let me inside a bakery I’d been eyeing for years. The woman who looked at me like I was her hero, like I was something good. And her son? That boy and I spent hours together today, just kicking it, talking, like I’d been around forever. He trusted me. Trust me with his mother.

I packed Uno cards in the bag. We were all supposed to play when Little Derek was feeling up to it.

That was my focus. Not this bullshit.

I turned around so fast you’d think I was dodging an actual bullet. My feet carried me straight toward Angel’s room, my mind already set—I was grabbing her bag and getting the fuck outta here.

“Ant!”

Keisha’s heels smacked against the hardwood as she scrambled to keep up, desperation nipping at her stride.

I didn’t slow down.

“Go home to your husband, Keisha.” My voice was calm, steady—but my jaw was tight, my fingers curled into fists as I shoved open Angel’s door without looking back. “I told you I was done.”

And I meant it.

But that didn’t mean the past wasn’t still sitting in my chest like a damn cinder block.

She’d blindsided me before the biggest game of my life—dropped a bomb on me like it was nothing.

It’s over.

Just like that. No warning. No explanation. Just a clean break that damn near cut me in half.

And yeah, we’d already been on shaky ground after she had that abortion—the baby she swore she didn’t want, the one she needed to get rid of. My baby I told her I’d take care of, no matter what.

And now? As a grown-ass man, yea…I could see she made the right call. But back then? That shit ripped me apart. And before I even had time to process it, I found out she was engaged.

To Curtis.

Not my best friend, but somebody I knew. Somebody who knew what she meant to me.

I damn near lost my mind. We were still together. How could she be getting married to someone else? Besides, we were still in school. What the fuck?

I went off the rails.

And the worst part? I still couldn’t let her go.

The night before her wedding, I showed up at her hotel like a man possessed.

She cried, babbled about not loving him, about how she had to marry him, how their families had arranged this shit. Said she was promised to him. What kinda medieval bullshit was that? None of it made sense, and I didn’t wanna hear it.

I tore that hotel room apart, my anger a live wire, snapping in every direction. And Keisha? She just watched in horror, screaming for me to stop.

Then she let me fuck her in the wreckage.

Told me she loved me while I took my frustration out on her body as we cried together. And then? She got up the next morning and walked down the aisle like none of it ever happened.

But even after that, we never stopped.

Not through the guilt. Not through the lies. Not through the years slipping past like they didn’t mean shit.

Yeah.

She’d been coming to me since the moment she got back from her honeymoon.

A long term affair.

Laid up in his bed by day, laid up in mine by night. Whispering she loved me, telling me she wished things were different—then going home to him.

And me?

I let her.

Again.

And again.

And again.

All these years.

It was my secret.

My shame.

Something I never told anyone. How could I?

I was the strong one—the one people depended on, looked up to. Imagine if they knew the truth. That I was weak. That I was out here fucking another man’s wife—not once, not twice, but for years—because I didn’t know how to let go.

So I kept my shame to myself. Drank my guilt at night. Buried it in my ranch, my hands working the land while my mind drowned in what-ifs.

But that couldn’t be my story anymore.

I was getting too old for this shit.

Besides, Angel had come into my life. Her friendship did something to me I’d never experienced before—healed something in me I didn’t even know was broken.

We were in limbo right now, caught somewhere between playing house and what we could be. But I knew what I wanted.

I wanted her.

And I was going to work at it. No distractions. Not even Keisha.

“We’re never done, Ant! You know that!”

Keisha’s voice cracked through the house, slicing through the air, thick with desperation. Thick with bullshit. My jaw clenched. My grip tightened around Angel’s bag now, the weight of it grounding me, the scent of her—soft, warm, real—keeping me from snapping.

Then Keisha walked into the room like she still had a right to. Trench coat on. Open. Still exposing herself to me.

“You’ve said you’re done with me a million times,” she pushed, her voice low, coaxing. “And you never—”

I turned to her, knuckles white around the strap of Angel’s bag. “You aborted my kid. Left me. Married that nigga. And every time I turn around, you got another one of his seeds in you.” I exhaled sharply, my body tense, my patience paper-thin. “Then you put me on ice. Sit me down till you ready for me again. You think I wanna keep doing this shit?”

That was the routine.

Whenever she got pregnant, it was like clockwork—she’d ghost me. Me inside her while she carried her husbands baby? That was where she drew the line. Me too.

We’d be in the thick of it—sneaking around, tangled in each other like old habits neither one of us knew how to break—and then? She’d vanish.

A year, maybe longer. However long it took for her to have the baby, be a wife, be a mother. Going through her adjustment period. Then, like she couldn’t help herself, she’d come crawling back.

Again.

Four times.

Four times she did this shit to me. Three times she made me think I could move on, only to drag me right back in.

And the worst part?

I let her.

I tried dating in the spaces where she disappeared, but nothing ever went far. Women either wanted me for who my brother was, or for who they thought I was—only to be disappointed when they realized I was just a regular dude.

And when I actually liked somebody?

Keisha would come slithering back, and I’d drop whoever it was like they didn’t even matter.

It was a vicious cycle.

One I never figured out how to get off.

Keisha had too much power over me. And she knew it.But that last time…

This last time did something to me.

I’d reserved a private room at our go to dinner spot out in Cloudville—not Westonberry, not Juniper. Neutral ground. A place still in the county but far enough that we had no ties.

We never went out much, but when we did, it was always out there—where we could slip in and out undetected. Some people still recognized me as D-Truth’s brother, but no one knew Keisha. And in the private room, we could eat without her glancing over her shoulder every two seconds, like she was waiting to get caught.

That night, I was at the end of my rope with the years of sneaking around.

A grown-ass man, navigating the world with the woman he loved in secret.

We’d just had a big fight over the phone that morning—about what? Who knows. It never mattered. The fights were just smoke, distractions from the real problem. She was married to someone else.

But I had made up my mind. That night, I was putting it all on the table. Either she was gonna stay with her husband, be a family, and leave me the fuck alone—or she was gonna divorce him and come be with me.

Simple.

I mean, not simple, per se. She had three kids, assets tied up with Curtis, a life woven into his. But I’d figure it out. And what I couldn’t figure out? I’d make it go away.

I tipped back my glass, the scotch burning its way down my chest, settling deep in my gut. I sat there alone, preparing for a fight. Because this wasn’t gonna be easy.

But if she chose me? Whatever mess it caused—I’d clean it up.

She was worth it to me.

Then the door opened.

I saw the waiter first, stepping inside with his practiced smile. And then, behind him, Keisha walked in slowly, her gaze finding mine.

She smiled.

And that’s when I saw it immediately.

That glow.

The one she only had when she was…pregnant.

I swore I heard my heart break in my chest.

Or maybe it was the glass in my hand.

“Ant…” she breathed out, her voice soft, hesitant.

She knew that I knew.

She didn’t have to say a word.

I could see it, feel it.

Because I knew her so well.

Because she’d done this so many times.

“I can explain—”

“Again, Keisha?” My voice was hoarse, my head shaking before I even realized it. I dragged a hand over my face, fingers pressing hard against my temple, willing myself to stay still. To breathe. To not flip this whole damn place inside out.

“Why you keep doing this to me, Key?”

“Ant, I—”

“You doing this shit to torture me?” My voice was tight, rough. “Cause you keep telling me you don’t love this man, but you keep letting him—”

My laugh came out cold, humorless. I leaned back in my chair, shaking my head. “It’s the fact that you gon’ bounce again. Just like you always do. Go off with him. Be mommy and daddy.” My hands curled into fists. “What the fuck am I even doing?”

“Just—”

“Just what?” My voice cut through hers, sharp and unrelenting. “Hmm? Just what?”

She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” My pulse pounded, my breath coming faster. “For killing my baby, but you keep having his? Four of ’em now?”

Keisha’s face twisted, her lips parting, but no words came out at first. When they finally did, they were weak. “Ant, that’s not fair. We were in college. We weren’t ready.”

My laugh was bitter, broken. I dragged my tongue over my teeth, tasting anger. “But you was ready to be this nigga wife like two months later?”

“I told you!” Her voice pitched, desperate. “I didn’t have a say!”

“Fuck that, Keisha!”

My palm slammed into the table, knocking over a few glasses. They crashed to the floor, shattering on impact, the sharp sound cutting through the thick air between us.

Keisha jumped back. And for the first time, I saw fear in her eyes. I didn’t want that. I never wanted her to be scared of me. I never wanted anyone to be scared of me.

Being as tall as I am, I was always aware of myself—aware of how people saw me. I kept my movements controlled, my voice low, my presence as unthreatening as possible. I never wanted to be seen as some big, scary monster. Never wanted to be seen as a threat.

But she was bringing that shit out of me. Always did.

And I hated it. Hated the way she made me lose control.

I ran a hand over my face, exhaling hard.

My chest felt split open, raw.

“Why am I not good enough for you, Key?” My voice was quieter now, hoarse. “What is it about me?”

Tears streamed down her face as she shook her head. “This wasn’t my choice.”

“This is my fault.” I wiped at my face as I spoke to myself, the tears kept coming. “This shit’s been going on too long. Should’ve never started.”

I sniffed, shook my head at myself.

“I fucked my life up. Wasted time. Trying to build something with a married woman.” I let out another bitter chuckle, this one soaked in pain. The kind of laugh that ain’t really a laugh at all. “I’m a fucking idiot, right?” My voice cracked. “How stupid could one man be?”

“You’re not—” she rushed out, voice frantic. “We love each other but, our circumstances—”

“You don’t love me.” The words came out flat, empty. I pounded my fist against my temple, squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m just… fucking stupid.”

My chest heaved.

“Please stop that, you’re scaring me,” Keisha’s voice trembled.

“Thought you were gonna leave him. Come to your senses. Come to me.” I hit my head again, harder this time, trying to knock the stupidity out of myself.

“Stop!” she cried.

“Then you got pregnant…” My jaw clenched as I counted them off on my fingers, my voice dropping into something hollow, something almost numb. “Again…again…again… and—”

I stopped.

Looked at her.

Held her in my gaze, watching her fall apart in front of me as I put up one more finger.

“…Again.”

Her whole face crumpled. “I love you. I’m not trying to hurt you, I swear,” she whispered, tears streaking her cheeks. “I’m stuck in this marriage, Anthony. You’re what keeps me going. You and my kids, or I’d… I wouldn’t be able to survive this.”

I dragged a hand down my face, my body tight, my breaths coming too fast. My head was pounding. Years of this—years of waiting, of hoping, of allowing myself to be strung along to a future that didn’t exist—all of it was crashing down at once, pressing against my ribs, clawing at my throat.

I couldn’t do this shit.

I had to be done, or this woman was gonna be the death of me.

It was a miracle I didn’t have my pistol to my head right now, the way this shit was killing me from the inside out. But I wasn’t gonna die for somebody who didn’t live for me.

This was overdue. Way overdue. If I wanted to keep what was left of my sanity, I had to end this. Because she never would. It was time.

Keisha must’ve seen it, must’ve felt the shift, because her panic spiked.

I was done.

“No, no, no,” she rushed out, stepping closer, grabbing my face, her fingers pressing into my skin. “Please, Ant, please. Just breathe, baby, just breathe. You’re just mad. You have every right to be. I get it, I get it, but I love you—”

I flinched away, untangling myself from her grip. “Keisha, stop.”

She shook her head frantically, hands trembling as she reached for me again, trying to pull me in, to hold me, to control me. “You’re scaring me, Anthony, I’ve never seen you like this—just talk to me, baby, we can fix this, we always fix it.”

I let out a bitter, shaky laugh. “Fix it? How, Keisha? Huh?” My voice cracked, raw and exhausted. “You got another baby in you that ain’t mine. Again. You walk out on me every time it’s convenient. Again. And come back whenever you feel ready. Again. And I keep letting you. Again.”

She was sobbing now, clutching at my chest like she could hold me together, like she could hold us together.

“I need you, Ant,” she choked out, shaking her head, her body trembling. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

I stared at her, eyes burning, body heavy with years of being second place. Years of being used. Years of being her escape but never her choice.

And then I said it.

“Keisha, I’m done.”

Her whole body stilled.

“No,” she whimpered, shaking her head like if she denied it enough, it wouldn’t be real. “No, you don’t mean that, you don’t—”

“I do.”

She let out a broken sob, gripping my shirt in tight fists, pressing her forehead to my chest. “Please, please, Anthony, don’t do this to me, I can’t—”

I swallowed hard, forcing my hands to stay at my sides. I couldn’t comfort her. Not this time.

I had nothing left to give.

“I can’t do this anymore, Keisha.”

She sobbed harder, pressing harder against me.

“You promised me,” she cried, voice muffled against my shirt. “You said you’d always love me.”

I exhaled shakily.

“I do love you.”

She stilled, her eyes searching mine, clinging to hope that wasn’t there.

I let out a slow, steady breath.

“That’s why I gotta let you go.” My voice was even, but the weight of it settled between us like stone. “You married Curtis. You get to live your double life—sneak around with me, lay up with me, have me love on you. Hold you. Listen to you. Then you leave. Go home to your family. A house full of kids. A husband you swear ain’t emotionally there, can’t even satisfy you in any way. You tell me you feel like a single mother in your marriage, but then you keep having his babies.

“And me?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “When you’re off playing wife and mother, who the fuck do I have? Who’s there for me?” My jaw clenched, my hands curling into fists. “I sit in this house by my goddamn self. You come crying to me about him, but I can’t talk to nobody about you.

“Shit is eating me alive, Key.” My voice cracked, but I held steady. “If you love me, this can’t be what you want for me. Because I don’t want this for me. Not no more.”

And just like that, I watched her shatter.

Her knees buckled, her body going limp as if my words had knocked the life out of her. She clung to me like I was her last breath, like if she held on long enough, I’d change my mind.

But I wouldn’t.

Not this time.

Not ever again.

Her lips parted, her head shaking fast. “No, Ant.”

“You chose him.” The words came out hoarse, broken. I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “When’s the last time me and you spent the whole night together? Huh? When’s the last time we went on vacation? I can’t even hold your fucking hand in public.”

“Ant—”

“No!” My voice roared, vibrating through the room. “I’m talking now! Unless you wanna tell me how the fuck this is fair to me.”

Keisha clenched her jaw, her breath hitching. Then it slipped out—so quick, so sharp, she probably didn’t even mean to say it.

“He’s my husband. What do you want me to do? Abort the baby?”

That stung.

Her eyes widened like she knew it, like she felt the air shift between us.

She caught herself.

But it was too late.

“I’m not shit to you, Keisha.” My voice was low, steady. Dead inside. I tilted my head, watching her, waiting. “Just say that.”

Her face crumpled as she looked up at me. “I love you, Ant. I love you so much. There’s so much you don’t understand that I can’t tell you. But I will Ant, just please don’t leave me.” She sobbed against me, her fingers trembling against the fabric.

I clenched my jaw, my hands curled into tight fists at my sides. I wouldn’t touch her. I wouldn’t hold her.

She didn’t deserve it.

“You keep leaving me,” I growled, staring up at the ceiling, trying to focus on anything but the feel of her pressed against me. Trying not to breathe her in. “You’re all this crying you doing right now, and you bout to leave me. Again.”

My chest heaved, my body tense, my head pounding.

“You make me relive my worst fear.” My voice scraped against my throat. “Over. And over. And over.”

The anger was building, sharp and hot, crawling up my spine.

And then she whispered it, soft and desperate.

“I need you, Ant.”

She was crying. Sobbing. Breaking down.

And I was trying like hell not to. She grabbed my face and made me look her in the eyes.

“I’ll come back. I always do.” Her voice was frantic, breaking apart at the edges. “Please wait for me.”

I swallowed hard. Held her gaze. “I’m done.”

Her eyes widened. “You don’t mean that.”

I exhaled slowly, my chest tight, my body heavy. “Congratulations on the baby, Keisha.”

Gently, I took her hands from my face, careful—always careful.

“I wish you and Curtis the best.”

I stepped back.

But she was on me again. Her hands fisted my shirt, yanking me down, her mouth crashing into mine.

“Don’t leave me,” she begged against my lips.

I wanted to push her off.

Needed to.

But she was weakening me. Her hands. Her lips. The past wrapping around my throat like a noose.

“I need you, Ant.” Her voice was barely a whisper between kisses on my lips. “Please.”

And as I kissed her back, I tried to remember everything—the weight of her, the taste of her, the way my body still responded like it didn’t know better.

Because deep down, something told me…

Even though part of me was folding,

I could do it this time.

This would be the last time.

I spent years thinking I’d never shake her. That no matter how far I ran, some part of me would always belong to her. But as I stood in front of her now, after a year and a half of silence, nothing stirred. No anger. No longing. No ache in my chest.

Just clarity.

Because for the first time, I didn’t see the woman I once would’ve killed for. I saw a memory. A mistake. A chapter I should’ve closed long ago. And this time? I was finally ready to turn the page.

I was free.

Keisha’s voice sliced through the air, sharp and desperate. “He’s my husband! What you want me to do?”

Like she always asked me.

Like a fucking broken record.

Like she didn’t have a say in her own life.

Like she wasn’t out here fucking us both at times, making choices, lying, breaking, rebuilding, and then breaking it all again.

Like she was just some pawn being moved around.

Fuck that.

I stared at her, my grip tightening around the bag in my hand.

“I want you out my house. And don’t come back.” My voice was even. Controlled. But the heat behind it? Unmistakable. “Lose my number too.”

Her eyes flicked down to the bag, then scanned the room, taking in the candles, the open drawers with women’s clothes spilling out, the little touches of Angel’s presence everywhere. Her face twisted, realization hitting her like a slap.

“You got somebody living here?” she asked.

Her voice was low, uncertain. Like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“That’s none of your business,” I told her. “This ain’t your house. You live in Westonberry with a husband and your kids. Remember?”

She took a slow step forward, her fingers brushing over Angel’s hairbrush on the dresser, like touching it might give her answers. Like if she could just hold something of hers, she could make sense of it.

Her brows pulled together, her breath hitching slightly. She was putting it together now. And I just stood there, watching her realize she had finally lost her place here.

Her brows knit together. “Who is she, Ant? Someone I know?”

I exhaled through my nose, patience thinning. “Keisha, you don’t have a right to—”

Then, suddenly, something shifted. Like a light flicking on in her head. Her whole expression changed.

“Are you fucking this bitch, Ant?” Her voice shot up, venom lacing every word. “That’s why you’ve been ignoring me? ‘Cause you got some new toy?”

I cocked my head, my jaw flexing at the way she threw Angel’s existence around like trash. As if my Pretty Girl was nothing.

“You’re trying the fuck outta me right now, you know that?”, I asked her, not caring about her response.

Keisha let out a bitter, sharp laugh. Cold. Ugly.

“Anthony, why are you doing this?” she scoffed, shaking her head. “You know damn well that whoever you’re with, you’ll fuck it up. And you’ll come back to me. Like you always do. Nobody loves you like I do, Ant. You know that.”

The fuck?

Something in me snapped. Because once upon a time, I believed that. And I was too honest of a man to hide it—I let her know. Told her she was the only one who ever really knew me.

And now, she was using that shit against me.

Because she met me before the my brothers fame. Before the money. Before the weight of being D-Truth’s brother turned me into a prize instead of a person.

I knew she loved me for me.

And for a long time, I thought that meant something. Except now? Now I knew the truth. This shit between me and Keisha? It wasn’t love. Not anymore, at least.

I suspected it for a while, but now? Now I knew for sure.

Because being around Angel, she calmed my nervous system.

And Keisha?

She always had me ready to lose my mind.

I stepped in, closing the space between us, my presence swallowing hers whole.

"You really think I’m built to be your side nigga forever? That’s all you see me as?" My voice was low, firm, unshaken. "You don’t think I want my own wife? My own family? You don’t think I deserve that?"

She took a step back.

For the first time tonight, her confidence wavered.

“Ant—”

“I wanted that with you.” The words came out rough, tight with years of resentment. “And you took that from me.”

I let the weight of it settle between us before I drove the knife deeper.

“Remember? You gave Curtis everything I wanted with you.”

She parted her lips, a weak attempt at a rebuttal. “We do—”

“We?” I cut her off with a shake of my head. “Ain’t no we, Keisha. It’s you and him. And then me, when you can’t keep lying to yourself.”

I exhaled hard, shaking my head.

“I told you last time—when you showed up pregnant again—that I was done. I meant that shit.” I held her gaze, steady. “And no, I didn’t change my mind this time.”

“You won’t even let me speak!” she snapped.

I let out a humorless laugh. “What is there to say, Keisha?”

Then, slowly, I enunciated every word like I was explaining simple math to a child.

“YOU. ARE. MARRIED. TO. CURTIS.”

I pointed to myself.

“I. AM. ANTHONY.”

I stared her down, watching the words sink in. “You see how this math problem ain’t making sense? How the math ain’t mathing?”

She blinked rapidly, her chest rising and falling like she wanted to scream.

“It’s nothing to discuss. You ain’t mine. Never will be. And maybe…” I let the words hang for a second, then let the final blow land. “Maybe you never were.”

Her eyes flashed with something desperate, something she knew wouldn’t work anymore. She lunged at me, her lips crashing against mine, but I peeled her off me, disgust curling in my gut like something spoiled.

Keisha looked up at me, stunned. Like she couldn’t believe I didn’t want her anymore.

“Go home,” I said, my voice final as I wiped my lips.

Keisha’s whole body stilled.

Her lips parted, her head shaking fast. “No, Ant.”

“Key —-”

Her voice cracked, her breathing coming short and uneven. “You don’t mean that. You always say you’re done, but—but you never are.” She let out a nervous laugh, high-pitched, forced. “You love me.”

She grabbed at my shirt again, her grip frantic, her nails digging in. “We’ve been through too much, Ant. You’re my person, you always have been! I was just—I was trying to figure shit out, I swear! But it’s you, it’s always been you. Please, baby, just—”

She was babbling now, unraveling at the seams.

“I can leave him. If that’s what you want, I’ll do it. I swear, Ant, just—just give me time! I just need time!”

I let out a short chuckle, shaking my head. Same script. Same bullshit.

“How many times you told me that?” I muttered, thinking back on all the fights we’d had over the years—all ending the same way. With her in my bed, wrapped around me, whispering promises she never kept.

Her hands fisted in my shirt, her body trembling.

“I don’t even love him! I never did! I love you—”

I sighed, peeling her off me, step by step.

“Keisha… this is crazy.” My voice was low, calm. Too calm. “I’m done with this shit. I’m done with you.”

That’s when it snapped.

Her voice dipped, bitter and sharp. Ugly.

“Oh, but now you got somebody, huh?” she scoffed, stepping back, her lip curling. “Now it’s convenient for you to be done with me?”

She let out a hollow, humorless laugh, shaking her head.

“So that’s what this is? You found some new bitch and now I’m disposable?”

I didn’t say shit. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t owe her a damn thing.

Her chest heaved, tears spilling faster, her mind spinning so fast she couldn’t even keep up with her own contradictions.

She sobbed, her fingers reaching for me again.

“Please, Anthony. You can’t do this. You can’t leave me! You don’t get to just—just walk away after all these years. After everything we’ve been through!”

Her voice was cracking apart, piece by piece.

"I already have," I reminded her, my voice steady. "The problem is you don’t listen. The problem is you’re not used to me telling you no."

I shook my head, exhaling slow. "We’ve been done for almost two years, Key. And the fact that you showed up here like nothing happened? Like I’d just forget? That’s insane."

I let the silence stretch, let the weight of my words settle between us. Then, just as she opened her mouth to argue, I cut her off.

"I’m not falling for the theatrics this time. I need peace, not more problems."

“You promised me!” she screamed, voice raw. “You said you’d always love me!”

I exhaled slow, steady.

No anger. No hesitation. Just truth.

I met her eyes, “Yeah, I did say that.”

She stilled. Hope flickered.

I tilted my head, let her hold onto it for just a second.

Then I let the hammer drop.

"And that’s the part you loved the most, huh?" I scoffed, shaking my head. "Knowing you could keep me on standby. Keep me just close enough to reach for when it was convenient—when he wasn’t enough, when you needed a break from your fake ass life."

I let the words sink in, watching her flinch like I’d slapped her.

"Well, it’s over. For real this time." I tilted my head toward the door. "Curtis and y’all kids are waiting on you. Go play wife and mother—'cause you damn sure ain’t got a man waiting on you here."

She blinked. Once. Twice. Then, her face crumpled. And before I could register it. Keisha slapped the fuck outta me.

The force of it made me drop Angel’s bag, but I didn’t react. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to me.

I just looked at her, calm, steady.

I rolled my jaw, stretching out the sting, but my face stayed unreadable. Unmoved.

“You feel better now?” My voice came out even, smooth. Like I was asking about the weather. Like I wasn’t standing in my own damn house with a woman who had no business being here.

Keisha’s breath came in sharp, uneven pulls. Her chest rose and fell like she was gearing up for another round.

Waiting.

For me to react.

For me to break.

For me to fold, just like I always did.

But that door? That shit was nailed shut. Deadbolted. Sealed.

For the first time, her face changed. The anger flickered, then dimmed. The realization started creeping in, slow and painful.

She knew.

This was it.

She’d really lost me.

Her lip trembled. Her body swayed like the weight of this moment had finally hit her full force.

Her fingers twitched at her sides—like she wanted to reach for me, but knew she no longer had the right.

Her mouth opened, but no words came out at first. Just a shaky breath.

Then, barely above a whisper—

“I’m sorry.”

Her eyes glistened, voice breaking like she actually meant it this time.

But it was too late.

I exhaled slow, rubbing the spot on my cheek where she’d laid her hand like she had the right. The sting was still fresh, but I’d felt worse. Been through worse.

I tilted my head, exhaling slow.

“I’m sure Curtis lets you smack him around,” I said, my voice calm, lethal. “But that shit don’t fly over here.”

She swallowed hard, but I didn’t give her room to speak.

“This is your last warning. Get the fuck out my house before I let your husband know exactly where you at—standing in my crib, butt-ass naked, trying to fuck me, and mad as hell that I don’t want you.”

I let that sit for a second, watching the color drain from her face before I twisted the knife.

“Matter of fact, do I need to call Curtis myself? Let him know his wife needs a ride?” I pulled out my phone, tapping the screen lazily. “I can Google the number for Silas Social—it’s public info. Not a big deal.”

Her breath hitched, panic flashing in her eyes.

Good.

For once, she was the one who felt powerless.

She opened her mouth, then shut it just as quick. Like she knew I wasn’t bluffing.

She thought she could still get in my head. Thought she could hit me, throw some tears in my direction, and I’d crumble like I used to.

But those days were long gone.

“Who is she?” Keisha asked, looking so pained I almost felt bad. Almost.

“Nothing I do is your concern. Worry about your husband and your kids.”

Her eyes burned into mine, searching, desperate. “You love her,” she said, matter-of-fact.

I didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.

Her breath hitched, like she was bracing for impact. “You’re different,” she whispered, her voice almost pleading. “You always—”

“Not this time.”

Her face twisted, her mind scrambling for a way in. “Because of her.”

I let the silence stretch, let her sit in it. Then I leveled her with the truth.

“Because of me.”

I meant that.

I was done with Keisha because I was done with Keisha. Not because of Angel. Not because I had someone new to focus on.

I was done because what we were doing was going nowhere. Because it didn’t make sense. Because it was bad for me.

This last year and a half, I’d gotten stronger. Proved to myself that I could walk away and stay gone. And yeah, Angel—what I wanted with her, what I saw for us—meant I couldn’t look back.

But she wasn’t the reason I was done with Keisha.

I’d made that decision to be done with this shit long before Angel ever came into my life.

Keisha swallowed hard, blinking fast. “And now her.”

Yeah, I was done then.

But now? With Angel—with something real, something that wasn’t built on lies and stolen moments?

I was for sure done now.

My jaw flexed as I took a step back, giving her space to make the right choice. “Go home to your family, Keisha.”

Her breath hitched, her face twisting like she was seeing me for the first time. Like she was realizing that whatever hold she had on me before? That shit was gone.

For good.

I bent down slow, steady, picking up Angel’s bag like it was the most important thing in the world. And maybe it was. Because that bag meant something. It meant I was moving forward. It meant I wasn’t stuck in this cycle with Keisha anymore.

Her voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re really done with me, huh?”

I exhaled slow, steady. Ran my tongue over my teeth.

Then, without hesitation—without softness, without room for doubt—I gave her the truth.

“Yeah. I am.”

She blinked rapidly, chest rising in shallow breaths. And for the first time, I saw it—the crack in her armor.

The moment she realized she didn’t own me anymore.

The moment she realized she really lost me.

“I don’t—” She swallowed hard, looking away like she was trying to gather herself. “I don’t understand how you could just turn it off like that.”

She looked like she wanted to argue, wanted to keep me talking so she could be in my presence longer, but I wasn’t giving her the chance.

I stepped past her, opened the door, and waited.

For a moment, she didn’t move.

Just stood there, staring at me.

At the bag in my hand.

At the doorway that led her back to the life she chose over me.

Then, finally, she scoffed, yanked her coat closed, and stormed out. Her heels clicked against the floor like an exclamation point at the end of a long, drawn-out sentence.

I let out a slow breath—one I hadn’t even realized I was holding—and shut the door behind her.

She stormed through my house and out the front door. Keisha stomped through the front yard, yanked open her car door, and slammed it behind her. I followed behind, Angel’s bag slung over my shoulder, but I wasn’t rushing.

I locked the door behind me, making a mental note to change the code. Keisha popping up again wasn’t a problem I needed. Especially when my Angel came back home.

As I approached my truck, I glanced toward her car. She was sitting in there bawling. Full-on sobbing, her shoulders shaking, her hand slapping against the steering wheel like she was trying to beat the pain out of herself.

Looking crazy as hell.

And I didn’t give a fuck.

How she felt right now was nothing compared to the way she had me feeling for years—shattered, discarded, never enough.

And it was a feeling I was never gonna make Angel feel.

Matter of fact, fuck this.

I pulled out my phone, dialed a number I only used in emergencies.

The line barely rang before a voice answered. “Ant.”

“Aye, uh—put a new code on the entries to my house. Let Angel know what it is when you’re done.”

"Bet."

The line went dead.

I pressed the start button, and my engine rumbled to life.

Then I laid on the horn.

Keisha jumped, whipping her head toward me, eyes wide with disbelief. I pointed toward the exit. Time for her ass to go. I wasn’t leaving until she did.

Her nostrils flared as she stuck up her middle finger, rolling her eyes like a damn teenager.

Then, with a huff, she snatched the gear shift, slammed her foot on the gas, and peeled off my property like a mad woman.

Yeah. Take that shit to Curtis.

Not my fucking problem anymore.

And when I got to the hospital—when I stepped into that room and saw Little Derek curled up in bed, his tiny chest rising and falling, with Angel dozing beside him, her fingers still wrapped around his hand—

Yeah.

This was where I needed to be.

Where I was meant to be.

And if God was testing me—if He needed proof that I was ready, that I was worthy of the future He was laying in front of me—then I hoped He was watching.

Because tonight?

I passed.

With flying fucking colors.

1. Keisha thought she could always pull Anthony back—what do you think hurt her more: losing him because she is married or because she’s assuming he’s moved on because of someone else?

2. What does passing this "test" mean for Anthony's future—both as a man and as someone seeking something real with Angel?

3. What is it that you think truly kept Anthony in the toxic cycle with Keisha? Do you think they ever really loved each other?

4. Do you think Keisha will really move on knowing that she no longer has Anthony as a safety net?

5. How do you feel about Anthony keeping this a secret all these years?