In the Streets of New Orleans, three girls are navigating life together in a passionate, polyamorous love. Their bond is a force of nature, helping them face their struggles and insecurities head-on. As they lean on each other for support, they real...
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Moni's head was heavy against my shoulder, and for a moment, I just held her there, feeling the warmth of her breath, her arm loosely wrapped around me. The early morning light trickled through the blinds, casting shadows across the room, and everything from last night hit me all over again. I reached behind me, instinctively feeling for Raj on the other side of the bed, but my fingers touched nothing but cold sheets. It was like a gut punch, a hollow reminder that she wasn't here. My heart twisted up, and the guilt just settled in deeper, real and raw.
"Where's Raj?" Moni's voice was soft, still laced with sleep as she stirred against me. She hadn't even opened her eyes yet, hadn't put it all together. But as her gaze traveled over to that empty spot beside us, her face fell, and reality hit her like it did me. "Oh, shit... Kami, everything from last night..." Her voice trailed off, her expression full of regret.
I took a deep breath, bracing myself as I looked at her. "Yeah... it was bad. We went too far. We all did."
She nodded, her face falling as she pieced it all together, each word sinking in. "I didn't mean half the shit I said, Kami," she murmured, squeezing my hand. Her voice cracked a little, like the weight of it was getting to her. "Especially to you. I was just so mad, caught up in all the mess." She let out a shaky breath, looking down at our hands. "I'm so damn sorry. For all of it."
I gave her hand a gentle squeeze, brushing my thumb over her knuckles. "I'm sorry too, Moni," I whispered, the hurt in my voice just spilling out. "We really messed up, didn't we?"
Her hand slid to my cheek, her fingers brushing softly as she looked at me, her eyes all glossy. She took a shaky breath, leaning closer until our foreheads touched. "We'll make this right," she said, her voice just above a whisper. "We'll get her back, Kami. Whatever it takes."
I nodded, feeling my own throat tighten as I brushed a tear off her cheek. "Yeah. We gotta fix this. For her and for us."
Our eyes met, and then, almost like we were both just holding onto each other, our lips met, soft and lingering. It wasn't just a kiss—it was everything unsaid, all the hurt and the apologies and the promises we couldn't put into words. Her hand slipped up, tangling in my hair as she pulled me closer, and I felt something inside me start to heal, just a little. For a moment, it was just us, wrapped up in this quiet understanding, like we were both fighting to hold on to what mattered.
When we finally pulled back, Moni's eyes were still a little glossy, and she pressed her forehead to mine, breathing me in. "We'll get through this," she whispered, her voice barely there.
"Yeah, we will," I whispered back. "We got to."
It wasn't gonna be easy. We had a lot to fix, a lot to face. But right there, with her hand in mine, it felt possible—like maybe, just maybe, we'd find a way to make things right.
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Absolutely, I'll add more detail and expand on the contents of the letter to make it more emotional and impactful.
The drive back to New Orleans felt like an endless stretch of silence. The city lights flickered against the car windows, but they didn't bring the same warmth they usually did. This was supposed to be home, but right now, it felt like we were dragging ourselves back to face something ugly we'd tried too long to ignore.
When Moni's phone buzzed, breaking the silence, she glanced down, her face tightening. She hesitated before she spoke, voice low. "Raj's best friend texted. Said Raj wants her stuff...she doesn't wanna see us, though."
The words stung, like she'd shoved a knife right into my chest. I swallowed, forcing my voice to stay steady. "Guess she's really done, huh?"
Moni didn't respond, just nodded, and the weight of it all settled heavy on my shoulders. We'd messed up, maybe beyond fixing.
Back at the apartment, we headed into the room we all shared. Raj's side of the bed felt colder than I'd expected, the sheets half-pulled, as if she'd left in a hurry. The closet door was open, and you could see the gaps where her clothes used to hang. What was left were a few random shirts, a worn-out hoodie, little things she'd either forgotten or just didn't care to take with her.
I opened a drawer, hands numb, and froze when I spotted something shoved at the very back, hidden under a pile of folded shirts. A crumpled piece of paper with Raj's messy handwriting scrawled across it. I pulled it out slowly, staring at her handwriting like it was a piece of her she'd left behind. "Moni...look at this," I whispered, handing it over.
Moni's hands shook a little as she unfolded the letter, and we leaned in together to read the words Raj had poured out.
"Y'all probably won't even find this. Or maybe you will, when I'm long gone, and it won't even matter."
The first line alone was like a punch to the gut. Moni sucked in a sharp breath, and I felt my own heart twist painfully.
"I used to think we had something nobody else could understand. Us against the world, right? But lately, it's felt more like it's me against y'all. I'm tired of being the one who has to be the strong one, the one who has to brush off the little comments, the eye rolls, the side remarks y'all think I don't notice."
My fingers tightened around the paper. The truth in her words hit me, and I felt like I was looking at a version of Raj I'd never bothered to really see.
"Every time I try to open up, I feel like I'm talking to a wall. Or worse, like y'all are just humoring me. I can see it in your faces, hear it in your sighs—that look of, 'Here she goes again.' It hurts, you know? Y'all say you got me, but half the time, it feels like you're just waiting for me to shut up so we can get back to talking about y'all. I've been feeling like an extra in my own life, like I'm just...convenient. The one y'all call when you're bored, when you got nobody else."
The room felt colder, emptier, with each line. Moni's hand went up to cover her mouth as she read, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.
"I love y'all, probably more than I should. But maybe that's why this hurts so damn bad. You know what's messed up? I can't even be mad at you, because I let this happen. I let myself be treated like an option, like I was just...lucky to be here. But I deserve more. I deserve to be heard, to be respected. And if y'all can't give me that, then maybe it's time I start giving that to myself, even if that means walking away."
By the time we reached the end, my eyes were burning, and I had to turn away for a second, swallowing back the tears. Every line felt like a slap in the face, a reminder of all the times I'd brushed her off, convinced that she'd be fine because she was "strong."
Moni looked up at me, eyes wide and filled with guilt. "Kami...we really messed up. She feels like she was nothing to us. How...how did we let it get this bad?"
I didn't have an answer. The guilt was sitting heavy in my chest, suffocating, and it made me feel smaller than I'd ever felt before. I'd been too caught up in my own pride, too convinced that Raj would always be there, no matter how we treated her.
"We gotta fix this," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Somehow, we gotta fix this."
Moni nodded, but we both knew it wasn't going to be that easy. Raj wasn't here to talk it out, to let us make it right. All we could do was pack her things and try to hold onto the hope that maybe, one day, she'd let us prove we could be better. But the way things looked, I wasn't even sure we'd get that chance.
