𝐕𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 |𝟏𝟖+|

Chapter fifty-one

Pollie Ashford's POV

"Do we have a deal?"

Kehlani's welcome voice spoke through the mic as I slumped on my bed, knee deep in tissues and chocolates.

I'd caught her up at my whole situation - leaving out the obvious - as we consoled each other through the mic.

Her situationship she'd been seeing had called it off on Christmas Eve whilst I had been dumped the day I was shot.

We'd laughed and cried together, sharing self deprecating jokes before cussing out our exes for being nothing other than dickheads. But that word set me off again. Exes.

But now, Kehlani had come up with an idea. An idea that I wasn't so sure about.

"Lani, I don't know. I don't really wanna leave the house." I don't wanna leave the house at risk of him lurking around, ready to pounce and declare his undying love for me.

Which I knew would happen.

It had been a few hours since I opened the door to find him standing there, and I'd spent those hours sobbing and comfort eating.

Mom came in earlier to check on me and to tell me she'd spoken to him. She asked me what I was thinking and I told her the truth.

The truth being that I needed ice for my hand because his face had hurt when I slapped him.

She bit back a laugh at that before briefly explaining that he wasn't planning on going anywhere until I felt ready to talk to him. Momma comforted me as the waterworks began again and told me that she won't let him see me unless it's on my terms.

I wasn't going to be a doormat for him to walk all over and blind me into forgiving him straight away.

And I wasn't going to grant him with my presence for a time I yet didn't have the answer to.

But whilst I keep repeating to myself and installing a no fucks attitude, I can't help but think about seeing him again, smelling him again, feeling him again - even if it was to bitch slap him.

It was obvious he hadn't been doing fine without me. And that made me feel a little better. I knew this because he was appeared recently clean shaved, an indicator to maybe him not having kept up his vanity as usual.

The bags under his eyes told me he hadn't been sleeping well.

And the cuts and bruising of his knuckles showed that he had needed a release.

But still. He doesn't get to show up on my doorstep and expect an invitation back into my life. He's got to earn it. He left, not me.

"Bitch, your crying has gotta stop at some point. Go show him what he's missing." I faked an offended gasp as she chuckled into the mic.

"Lani....."

I groaned as my friend started chanting "do it, do it, do it, do it" until I caved - if only to stop that awful noise.

"Ok, ok, ok! I'll think about it!"

Lani squealed like she'd just won the lottery. "I can work with that. Just don't think too hard." She giggled and by that familiar noise, I knew she was already fantasising about events that had yet to happen.