No Way Out

Trina- Honeymoon's Over

Days had bled into a week, and Darnell was still camped out in Trina's apartment, as though he had moved in for good. 

And maybe, in his mind, he had. There were no signs that he intended to leave, no mention of finding his own place or even helping out with rent. He'd taken over her couch like a king claiming a throne, scarfed down all her food, and monopolized her Netflix, binge-watching shows as if five years of prison TV had left him culturally starved. 

Worst of all, he started taking long, steamy showers, as though each one was a ritual to scrub off the prison grime, never mind that the water bill was soaring.

Trina sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly into the open fridge. Nothing but a few sad condiments and a carton of milk that had probably expired two days ago. A sinking feeling took root in her stomach. How had her life spiraled from writing love letters and imagining a perfect future to... this?

Keisha, who had been her sounding board through all the ups and downs, sat across from her on the couch, sipping iced coffee like it was some magical elixir that could fix everything. She was watching Darnell's empty plate on the counter, her face twisted in disgust.

"Trina," Keisha said, her voice filled with exasperation, "this isn't cute anymore. I know you had your little pen-pal fantasy or whatever, but girl, this man is straight freeloading. He's living his best life while you're out here playing housemaid."

Trina groaned, rubbing her temples. She knew Keisha was right, but how was she supposed to tell Darnell to leave? She had written to him for months, built a relationship on promises and dreams of a better life. Telling him to get out felt like betraying everything she thought she believed in. "What am I supposed to say, Keisha? He's Darnell. I can't just... kick him out. We've been through too much."

Keisha rolled her eyes, her patience running thin. "Yeah, you've been through a lot... of snacks, water, and Netflix passwords. He's not contributing a damn thing. This isn't some fairytale romance. It's real life, and in real life, he needs to get off his ass and do something other than watch reruns and drain your hot water."

Trina sighed, staring at the stack of takeout containers piled in the trash. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd cooked in her own kitchen. It was like Darnell had come in and taken over every aspect of her space, and now she felt like a guest in her own home.

Before she could respond, the front door burst open with a bang. Darnell stormed in, his face dark with anger, his eyes hard and wild. He didn't say a word at first, just stood there, glaring at the room like he was looking for something to destroy.

Trina's heart lurched. "Darnell, what's going on?"

Keisha, sensing the shift in the air, immediately stood, her eyes narrowing in on Darnell's towering figure. "I think I'll let y'all handle that," she muttered, slipping her phone and bag into her hands faster than a magician performing a vanishing act. "Call me later." And just like that, she was gone, leaving Trina alone with Darnell's looming fury.

Darnell's gaze locked on her, and his anger felt like it was filling the entire apartment, suffocating the air. "We need to talk," he said, his voice low and dangerous, fists clenched tight at his sides.

Trina stood slowly, her body tense, trying to keep her breathing steady. "What's wrong?"

"You've been talking to other guys," Darnell growled, his voice dripping with accusation. "You think I don't know? You think I'm stupid?"

Trina's blood ran cold, her heart stuttering in her chest. "What? I haven't been talking to anyone. What are you talking about?"

"Don't lie to me, Trina!" His voice snapped, sharp and unforgiving. "I heard it. People talking about you, saying you're running around behind my back. After everything we've been through?"

Trina felt like the walls were closing in on her. The air in the room had thickened, turning heavy with tension. This wasn't the Darnell she'd written letters to, the man who had professed his love on every piece of paper that passed through prison bars. This was someone darker, someone she hadn't anticipated. The fairytale she had so carefully constructed was crumbling, revealing cracks she hadn't seen before.

"I haven't been talking to anyone, Darnell," she said, her voice trembling despite her efforts to stay calm. "I've been here with you. I don't know who's telling you these things, but it's not true."

Darnell didn't budge. His fists clenched and unclenched, and then, suddenly, he slammed one into the wall. The drywall buckled under the force, the sound echoing through the apartment like a gunshot. Trina jumped, her heart pounding in her throat.

"I thought I could trust you," he muttered, his voice lower now, but still laced with anger. "But maybe I was wrong."

Trina took a step back, every nerve in her body on high alert. This wasn't just about jealousy anymore—this was about control. She needed to find a way to de-escalate the situation before it got worse.

"Darnell, please," she said, her voice barely steady. "We can talk about this. But you need to calm down."

His eyes were still burning with suspicion, his body tense like a coiled spring, but he didn't move. For a brief moment, Trina thought she might be able to reason with him, that maybe he would let his guard down and they could talk this out like adults. But just as quickly, that hope vanished when the front door swung open again.

Keisha was back, her face set in a hard, determined expression as she took in the scene. "Oh, hell no," she muttered under her breath, stepping between Darnell and Trina like a human shield. "This is not happening."

"Darnell," Keisha said, her voice sharp and unwavering, "you need to chill out."

Darnell's eyes flicked to Keisha, and for a moment, Trina thought he might explode again. But instead, he seemed to deflate, the anger draining out of him in one long, frustrated exhale. He rubbed his face with his hands, his shoulders slumping. "I just... I thought we were good," he muttered, his voice hollow.

Keisha didn't let up. "You two need to talk, but not like this. You can't just walk around accusing Trina without any proof. And you definitely can't be punching walls in her apartment."

Darnell nodded slowly, like he was hearing her, but not really listening. "You're right. I just... I don't know what's going on in my head."

Trina stood frozen, her heart still racing, a gnawing fear twisting inside her. She wanted to help him, to make this relationship work, but the image of him slamming his fist into the wall played over and over in her mind. This wasn't the Darnell she thought she knew.

Keisha turned to Trina, her eyes filled with concern. "Trina, we need to talk."

Trina nodded, too shaken to say anything. As Darnell retreated to the bedroom, clearly needing space, Keisha pulled her into the kitchen, her voice urgent and low.

"What the hell was that?" Keisha hissed, her eyes wide with alarm.

Trina shook her head, tears threatening to spill over. "I don't know. He's not the guy I thought he was. He's... different."

Keisha sighed, wrapping her arms around Trina in a comforting hug. "Girl, this is serious. You can't keep letting him run your life like this. He needs help, and you need to figure out if you even want him around. This is toxic, and it's only gonna get worse."

Trina nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of Keisha's words. The fairytale dream she'd been clinging to had shattered. In its place was a harsh reality she couldn't ignore. Darnell wasn't just a man who needed love—he was someone who needed more than she could give.

The honeymoon phase was over. Now came the hard part—figuring out how to survive the aftermath.

4o