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Authors: Destiny Davis
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ignoring the broken shards. “You made it perfectly clear that we’re not together, Dimitri, so don’t worry about that.”
“What do you want from me, huh? What the fuck do you want from me? I already told you that we can’t be together. How can you go behind my back and set up some fucking dinner with your friends?” He was so livid that he was shaking with rage - and some other emotion that she couldn’t fathom.
“So what if I did?” She thrust out her chin. “What if I set up a dinner with my friends? I wouldn’t have had to go behind your back had you been just the slightest bit normal instead of being so neurotic about simple things like that. Why don’t you want to be seen in public with me? Why?”
“That’s none of your fucking business!” He expostulated. “I never tried to mislead you, Angela. I was straight with you from the start. There never was - and there never will be - a relationship between us, is that clear?”
She blinked back furious tears. “Yeah, because you only need me in bed, right? Because I’m just the stupid girl from the office whom you can fuck and leave whenever you want. Tell me, Dimitri, why are we still together then? Is this because you have a thing for black girls? Am I just a fetish to you? White man fucks black girl and tosses her aside when he’s had his fill. Is this what you want?”
His face blanched. At that moment, he was looking so ferocious, so absolutely beyond himself with rage, that Angela couldn’t help but take several retreating steps. He clenched his fists and advanced towards her, those usually warm caramel eyes glowering with anger.
“You’re going too far, Angela.” His voice was deceptively soft, almost silky with anger. “You’ve gone way too far.”
She knew she had but she was unable to help herself.
“Have I?” She sneered. “Why else would you treat me so cheaply?” Tears rolled down her face but she hardly noticed them. “I’m good enough for you to fuck but not introduce to your family or… or even be seen in public with you.” Her voice caught in a sob. “What’s not good enough about me, Dimitri?” Her shoulders sagged as an unexpected wave of weakness crashed upon her. “Why am I not good enough?”
He turned his back to her and opened the window. A gust of cold air filled the kitchen but Angela hardly noticed. Her eyes were latched to Dimitri. He was hunched in front of the windowsill, his long fingers digging into the metal frame.
She didn’t know how, but in that moment Angela knew that it was over between them.
There was an air of finality in the kitchen that she couldn’t deny. And, sure enough, when he finally straightened up and looked at her, his face was closed again, eyes glacial and expressionless. Exactly how he used to look before she got to know him so intimately.
She crossed her arms across her chest, her thin shoulders heaving with silent sobs. Something in his frigid composure slipped.
“Come here,” he said gruffly.
She shook her head but he ignored her and pulled her into his arms, locking his fingers around her waist. He held her close for several long minutes as they stood in complete silence, both of them knowing that it was over, neither one of them willing to admit it. Her tears soaked his shirt as she rested her cheek against his chest. Her stomach was churning and she felt so exhausted that she could barely stand on her feet. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to release him. She wasn’t going to shorten their final moments together. She pressed her lips together in a desperate attempt to stop crying, but
“What do you want from me, huh? What the fuck do you want from me? I already told you that we can’t be together. How can you go behind my back and set up some fucking dinner with your friends?” He was so livid that he was shaking with rage - and some other emotion that she couldn’t fathom.
“So what if I did?” She thrust out her chin. “What if I set up a dinner with my friends? I wouldn’t have had to go behind your back had you been just the slightest bit normal instead of being so neurotic about simple things like that. Why don’t you want to be seen in public with me? Why?”
“That’s none of your fucking business!” He expostulated. “I never tried to mislead you, Angela. I was straight with you from the start. There never was - and there never will be - a relationship between us, is that clear?”
She blinked back furious tears. “Yeah, because you only need me in bed, right? Because I’m just the stupid girl from the office whom you can fuck and leave whenever you want. Tell me, Dimitri, why are we still together then? Is this because you have a thing for black girls? Am I just a fetish to you? White man fucks black girl and tosses her aside when he’s had his fill. Is this what you want?”
His face blanched. At that moment, he was looking so ferocious, so absolutely beyond himself with rage, that Angela couldn’t help but take several retreating steps. He clenched his fists and advanced towards her, those usually warm caramel eyes glowering with anger.
“You’re going too far, Angela.” His voice was deceptively soft, almost silky with anger. “You’ve gone way too far.”
She knew she had but she was unable to help herself.
“Have I?” She sneered. “Why else would you treat me so cheaply?” Tears rolled down her face but she hardly noticed them. “I’m good enough for you to fuck but not introduce to your family or… or even be seen in public with you.” Her voice caught in a sob. “What’s not good enough about me, Dimitri?” Her shoulders sagged as an unexpected wave of weakness crashed upon her. “Why am I not good enough?”
He turned his back to her and opened the window. A gust of cold air filled the kitchen but Angela hardly noticed. Her eyes were latched to Dimitri. He was hunched in front of the windowsill, his long fingers digging into the metal frame.
She didn’t know how, but in that moment Angela knew that it was over between them.
There was an air of finality in the kitchen that she couldn’t deny. And, sure enough, when he finally straightened up and looked at her, his face was closed again, eyes glacial and expressionless. Exactly how he used to look before she got to know him so intimately.
She crossed her arms across her chest, her thin shoulders heaving with silent sobs. Something in his frigid composure slipped.
“Come here,” he said gruffly.
She shook her head but he ignored her and pulled her into his arms, locking his fingers around her waist. He held her close for several long minutes as they stood in complete silence, both of them knowing that it was over, neither one of them willing to admit it. Her tears soaked his shirt as she rested her cheek against his chest. Her stomach was churning and she felt so exhausted that she could barely stand on her feet. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to release him. She wasn’t going to shorten their final moments together. She pressed her lips together in a desperate attempt to stop crying, but
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