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The Heights
Weeks had passed since me and Yara rekindled our relationship and honestly my heart felt good.
I wanted to make sure this time I did right by her and I made her my wife. I loved Yara, and I have ever since I've laid eyes on her.
She had a nigga doing the mushiest shit and I hated that. I was so wrapped around her fingers it was ridiculous.
"Kris."
"Yeah?" I asked her firing up my third blunt for the day.
"So are you guys still talking or what?"
Rolling my eyes I looked back at her standing in a pink lace bra set.
"Yara she's just a friend mama, I keep telling you that shit so stop it."
"But-"
"There's no buts mama, stop letting that shit make you insecure. I'm sorry I ever made you feel like she could ever fuck with you or even be on your level." I told her kissing her soft lips.
"No Kris." She pushed my chest tearing up.
"Yaralynn I'm sorry baby, I'm so sorry mama I love you so much." I told her watching her cry.
"Stop crying mama."
"Yara you know how many times I'd choose you over that female? She can come over here with no clothes and I'll still only want you."
"Yeah right."
"Here." I pulled my phone out from my pocket.
"I ain't ever deleted nothing, click on her name and look at how much I reject her. Look at how she feels about me loving you."
Scrolling through our messages she rolled her eyes.
Matter of fact let me see.
Grabbing my phone back I blocked Honey. I don't understand how Yara could ever let Honey make her feel bad.
Yara wouldn't even give a nigga the time of day.
Shit if anybody felt some type of way it should've been me. All she ever did was put that good ass loving on me and block the fuck outta me every time.
"Enough with the side talk, how have you been mama. Like mentally how are you holding up?" I asked her because I'm sure she's going through postpartum depression.
