Page 5 of Don't Make Promises

Briefly, I wonder how long this has been going on before my gaze moves to the bed and I see my old roommate: Melanie. I should have guessed. She’s the reason I felt like I needed to move out of the place I was in before here. If only she’d been woman enough to come to me instead of sleeping with my boyfriend behind my back.

Obviously choosing to stay and try to charm his way out of this, Will says, “Babe, I can explain.”

With as much sarcasm as I can inject into my voice, I fold my arms across my chest and reply, “Really? I’d love to hear howmy boyfriendcan explain away the fact that he was just having sex with my old roommate. How long has this been going on for?”

“Well, sh—”

I hold up a hand, because I’m really not interested. No amount of words will ever make this okay. “Actually, I don’t really care, Will.”

Moving to the closet, I drag out the suitcase I hadn’t finished unpacking before I had to leave, and walk to the door. Neither of them move. Melanie’s face has a smug smile on it as she sits nestled in the sheets, marking the bed as hers. That alone tells me everything I need to know. Well, she’s welcome to him, because there is no way I would ever allow him to touch me again.

Nobody utters a word as I walk across the room, at least not until Will seems to get himself together and says, “Baby, please. I’m sorry. She doesn’t mean anything to me. Please don’t go.”

He moves toward me, but when I turn to face him he comes up short next to the bed with his shriveled cock on display. Melanie lets out an audible gasp, and I shake my head at his audacity. She burrows herself under the covers, hopefully in embarrassment or shame, but I doubt it.

My Southern accent comes out full force the more irritated I get. I’ve been working so hard to tone it down so I can broaden my range, but I’m so pissed that I can’t control it right now. “Save yourself the embarrassment of beggin’ for a second chance that ain’t ever gonna happen. The moment you slept with her was the second you lost me. How you can stand there tellin’ me she don’t mean nothin’ to ya, when she’s in the same room and clearly has feelin’s for you, tells me all I need to know. You don’t deserve me.”

Now that I’m focused on him, I see his glassy eyes, no doubt from whatever drug is in the small plastic bag. I throw the packet I’d forgotten about on the table next to the door. “Y’all dropped that in the hallway.”

I have zero interest in getting into an argument with him. My suitcase trails behind me as I walk down the hallway. When I reach the top of the stairs, I turn to find Will—thankfully now dressed—has followed me.

He tries to cajole me into staying but it’s just condescending when he says, “Come on, baby. We can talk about this.”

“I don’t have nothin’ else to say to you.”

He just can’t let it go.Let me go. “You don’t have to say anything, please just listen. I can explain. You mean the world to me.”

It won’t make a lick of difference.

Despite turning away to walk down the stairs, Will takes my silence as his cue to go ahead and spout whatever hogwash he’s come up with for his reasoning to cheat on me. I try to tune him out as I concentrate on navigating the steps with my suitcase.

“You were never here.”

I was working.

“Any time I wanted to hang out you told me you were busy.”

What is he, five?

“She showed me attention and I gave in. I’m only human, Savannah. I have needs.”

You motherfucker.

I don’t swear much, because my mama would wash my mouth out if she could hear me, but this man is testing my last nerve. How dare this pathetic excuse of a man blamemefor his lack of self control?

When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I set the suitcase down and turn to face him. With an almost deathly calm tone and a serene look on my face, I say matter of factly, “So, let me get this straight. It’s my fault for working multiple jobs and not giving you enough attention? That’s why you slept with my roommate while high off your face on whatever I found on the floor?”

Will runs a hand over the back of his neck as he looks away sheepishly. He’s not as stupid as he looks then. With a shake of my head, I turn and walk toward the door, dragging my suitcase behind me.

I can hear him scurrying behind me, as he replies, “Okay, that came out wrong. Maybe you can take a couple of days to calm down and then we can have a rational talk about this. Put it all behind us.”

First of all, I thought I’d been pretty darn calm for a woman that just walked in on her boyfriend cheating on her. Second of all, is he really delusional enough to think I’d ever talk to him again? The moment I walked through that door, he was dead to me.

Much like if I was talking to a child, I face him again and say as slowly as I can, “Will, this,” I motion between us, “is over.”

When I turn to continue toward the door, he grabs a hold of my arm, his cold, clammy fingers painfully digging into my flesh. I try to yank my arm free, his grip tightening, his eyes crazed as he bares his teeth at me. “You can’t leave me, Savannah.”

“I can and I will. Now let go of me.”

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