Late

Chapter Six

One week had passed. One week of solitude. One week where you didn't answer any calls neither on your cell phone or those damned Kimoyo beads. You didn't open the door for the many knocks you heard. You didn't take any food or drink. You turned everything away. You couldn't eat even if you tried.

Shuri came the first night. The night you were your worst, the night you shed the most tears. The night you felt your lowest, the night that hurt the most. Everything hurt, your head, your chest, your eyes, your heart. You tried not to think, but your mind wandered every second. Your brain automatically went to everything terrible and magnified every fault you had as the reason why this was happening to you. The reoccurring one was your fear that you weren't worth loving, that no one could or would love you.

Queen Ramonda came the second day. Nothing was different about that day, you were still pretty bad, except this day you spent in silence. You didn't speak; you didn't move; you didn't cry. You just laid in your bed and stared out the window. You watched the sunrise but didn't register the beautiful yellows and blues, and watched the sunset but still didn't register the brilliant oranges, and reds. You felt dead.

He came on the third day, begging you to open the door. When you refused, he tried to play the king card. That day was your anger day. His commands were met with vases and trinkets being broken against the door as you threw them at the specific spot where you imagined his head was as he stood on the opposite side of it. You were furious, and as the day progressed that anger became worse.

On the fourth day, Shuri came again. She begged you to eat while apologizing as if she was the reason for my pain. That day was your rage day, the day you trashed everything in the room causing yourself pain in the process. You broke several nails and acquired quite a few splinters especially when you thought you were Tarzan and tried tearing apart a wooden painting that you kept because it reminded you of him. Yeah, it wasn't smart. At the end of it all, you had scratches on your face, hands, and legs from your destructiveness. A permanent reminder of how big a fool you were.

On the fifth day, Ayo came. She'd always been kind to you, and sometimes you even joked around and on some days hung out around Wakanda. She came but didn't tell you to open the door; instead, she said to stay in there as long as you needed. She said all of this would be a distant memory soon. Her encouragement was sweet, and it brought you back to your tears.

On the sixth day, he came again. He sounded haunted. He sounded tired. Your heart wanted him, but your brain said hell no. He begged you to open the door to give him 5 minutes so he could explain. When you didn't answer or open the door, he switched tactics and began begging you to eat or to drink. He tried to make you think he cared about your well being and your health. It made you angry because he didn't care about you at all. He'd proven it. He'd shown you that and so much more.

On the seventh day, it was quiet until you heard Okoye's voice. She said she was sorry I was hurt and that she wished it were different. She even expressed how this may be hard on T'Challa because of his feelings for you. You wanted to laugh and then throw something at the door, but you knew Okoye would probably bust it down and beat your ass. She was loyal to T'Challa to a fault. Even when he is in the wrong, she found a way to believe he was suffering. Before she left, she advised you to give him a chance to explain.

You'd had it!

You knew what you had to do. You packed your bags. You packed everything you owned that you didn't destroy, rip, break or stab. Then you looked over the contract you signed with the late King T'Chaka and sighed. You'd spent your last six years here, building friendships, getting used to the country, learning the language, the customs, traditions. You'd fallen in love with this place, fallen in love with Shuri and Ramonda, hell even the Dora Milaje. Tears welled in your eyes as you thought of leaving it all behind. Leaving him behind. The tears streamed down your cheeks at the idea of leaving him. You felt a stab of pain in your chest. You gripped your chest and closed your eyes. It took a few moments, but the pain stopped although it never went away, it was an ache now. An ache one learned to exist with.

You dropped to the floor and cried. He wasn't even yours, and you felt like you lost him. You felt the loss of him, or the loss of what could have been, the loss of what was never meant. You wiped your tears and tried to compose yourself. You sat at the desk in the living area of your chambers and began writing your resignation letter.

By the time night fell you had three drafts that were all crumpled around you and the new, fresh one only housed a few words.

King T'Challa,

I hereby submit my official resignation.

-Y/n-

You were staring out the window at the sun as it disappeared behind the mountains. This was going to be your final Wakandan sunset. That thought made you sad again. You put your head in your hands and sighed out. You wished you had your mother here to tell you what to do. You wanted her there to rub your back and dry your tears as she always did when you were brokenhearted.

You looked back out the window. That's what this was; you were brokenhearted. It finally registered, it clicked. You were brokenhearted over a man that was never yours to begin with. Brokenhearted over a man that you'd never even gone on a date with and before three weeks ago you'd never even kissed. You sighed again when the truth came to the surface of your heart. You'd fallen in love with the son of your boss over the six years. You fell in love with T'Challa. You don't know when or what did it but; there were the facts.

You fell in love with a man that could never be yours.

You groaned your frustration at your stupidity. For a woman with four degrees you sure did probably the dumbest thing any woman could ever do. You gave your heart to the wrong man. You had to leave. There was no way you could stay here being in love with a man watching him live his life with his wife. That would be more torture than you could handle. It would also be pathetic and pathetic was something you definitely were not.

You sat in silence for several more hours and came to terms with your decision.