Wither (An Erik Killmonger Love Story)

Doomed

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Doomed: adjective; certain to fail, die, or be destroyed.

Trigger warning!!! Chapter contains visuals that could be triggering to some readers!!! Please read with caution!!!

I'll ask y'all at the beginning of this chapter to vote, comment and give feedback because there is a very important note at the end. Thank y'all. 🙏🏾❤️

Time jump back to after Victor and Antoinette's argument. Antoinette's POV.
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"Are you serious right now, Antoinette?," London's voice boomed over the phone, her boys yelling in the background.

I called London as soon as Victor closed the door behind him.  With all the emotions I had been feeling the last twenty-four hours, I had to vent and with Wither in the room with Victor there was no way I'd be able to grab her.  Even so, as much as I loved the feeling of writing I also loved talking with my best friend.

I told her everything.  Erik's arrival, the confrontation between Vic and Erik... the cheating, everything.  She took it calmer than I thought she would. Becoming a mother and wife had made her gain a little more patience because the old London would have been on her way to beat my ass.  I honestly didn't know which version of her would be worse at scolding me, but I flinch like a child all the same. 

I grab the bottle of wine sitting in front of me before taking a swig, "How could I even make this up London?  My life is crumbling down in less than a day and I don't know how to stop it."

I could feel the tears start to sting my eyes again before I quickly swipe them away.  "I know you're feeling like hell Nette, but you need tell Vic the truth. That's how you stop this guilt.  If he leaves, he leaves, but at least you won't be torturing yourself anymore.  If you need to come home for a while, you know you can always stay with us too."

By now the tears had completely flooded my vision and I put my hand over my mouth to cover the sobs.  She was so right.  I took a deep breath to collect myself so I could answer her back. 

"I appreciate it, but I'd hate to impose on-," she cut me off before I could even finish my thought.

"You're like my damn sister Nette, you think I'd even hesitate to have you in my house? Talk with your man, then call me back and tell me what you're doing.  Even if I don't agree with what you did, I'll always have your back." I could hear her holding back her own tears, making my heart tear apart. I'd never wish her sadness, but I was grateful she was there.

"I appreciate that so much London, you have no clue." We quickly hung up and I continued to sit, staring at the wall hoping it would give me the words to say.  I picked up the bottle again and took another swig, some liquid courage to face this demon.

I continued to sit there and recite my speech repeatedly in my head.  The sound of the bedroom door opening filled me with dread.  His heavy footsteps echoed down the hall until his tall frame came around the corner, eyes still bloodshot red from the alcohol.  He stared at me while leaning against the wall, anger written across his face.  I felt my body heat up as he continued his cold stare.  I lowered my eyes from him as I grabbed the half empty bottle and walked to the kitchen, his eyes following me.

As I opened the fridge to set the bottle in, Victor quickly stalked over slamming it and snatching the bottle out of my hand. He shoulder bumped me as he passed before taking a seat at the island. Opening the bottle he took heavy chugs at what was left leaving me standing there with my mouth ajar. Did this man really just do that? I swallowed back the attitude trying to climb its way out and attack him, remembering I was just about to come apologize to said man. I crossed my arms and stood in front of him, hoping this would be quick and simple.