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"You really fucking slapped my ass," I whispered to Jay through my teeth as soon as we stepped off stage. We killed our performance, we always do. Being mad at him actually makes me perform better.
"You said you wanted me to act like everything was alright," he whispered.
I rolled my eyes and walked ahead of him into my dressing room to change into my dress for the rest of the night. He followed behind me but I shut and locked the door before he could come inside. Oops. 🤷🏽♀️ —-
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As we sat down, he placed his hand on my leg and I brushed it off before sliding my arm in between us, "No," I said under my breath.
"So you want us to look like a happy couple, but I can't touch you?" he whispered.
"You can touch me, but don't push it," I whispered back.
I took a long drink from my water bottle.
"Aye, can I get a sip of that?" Jay asked.
I paused before shrugging and handing him the water bottle.
He took a sip and his eyes widened, "You drinking straight vodka out of water bottles now?"
I took my bottle back and drank some more, "I knew I'd need to drink to get through the night without wanting to kill you....no offense."
He scoffed, "None taken," he said sarcastically.
—- I stood next to Jay, leaning on him in a way that looked like we were just so in love we couldn't keep our hands off each other. But in reality, he was holding me up because I could barely walk on my own. The water bottle full of vodka was probably a little extra, but here we are, and I was honestly having me a good time.
"Aight, you ready to go home?" he said to me.
"Y'all ain't comin out to the after party?" Kanye asked.
"Yeah, we should go," I said. Being famous as long as I have, I've gotten really good at being completely drunk in public and acting fine. I don't need to be seeing headlines about me being drunk and actin a fool in public, and neither does my mama.
"Ok, that'll at least give me the chance to get half as drunk as you," he said to me, laughing.
"Yeah we'll go," he said to Kanye. —- I grinded on Jay to the music blasting at this after party. We were just drinking and dancing like everything was alright, and it was kind of nice.
"You ready to get outta here?" Jay whispered in my ear.
I turned around to face him and smirked, "You tryna take me home with you?"
He leaned close to me and whispered, "I'm tryna smash, ma, I ain't gonna lie."
I bit my lip. "Call a car."
"Can you roll up the partition please?" I asked the driver as we got into our car.
"Certainly, Ms. Knowles," the driver said, doing as I asked.
As soon as the partition was up, Jay pulled me close to him and we made out like teenagers in the back of the limo.
"Damn, Bey, I missed you so fucking much," Jay said as he started kissing down my neck and trying to take off my dress.
"Wait until we get home," I said, pulling my dress strap back over my shoulder.
"I can't wait another second," he whispered to me.
—- The next morning
"Bey...Beyoncé," I heard as I opened my eyes.
"The fuck...?" I said as I opened my eyes to see that we were naked on the kitchen floor. My eyes went to the painting next to the front door that was knocked down, then to the trail of our clothes and shoes from the living room to the kitchen. "How the hell did this shit happen?"
"We never made it to the bedroom," Jay shrugged. "You don't remember?"
I just shook my head, "I have got to stop drinking," I said as I stood up and went to gather my clothes and shoes.
"Wait...what does this mean?"
"It means we got drunk and had sex on the kitchen floor."
He gave me a look. "Come on, Bey."
I sighed, "It doesn't mean that I forgive you, or that everything is fine between us."
He nodded, "Do you still love me?"
"Of course I still love you, but I don't know if that's enough after what you did," I said as I put my dress and shoes from last night back on.
"I would give anything to take back what I did. You know all the messed up shit I've done in my life, this is the worst. I wanna do anything I can to fix this, I love you so much, please don't give up on us," he said as his voice started to break.
I wiped a tear, hearing him cry made me want to cry. At least we can both agree on one thing: I would give anything to take back what he did.
"I have to go, Jay."
"Bey, please-"
"Goodbye," I said before walking out the door.
He kept wanting to talk about what happened, but what is there to talk about? I know he's sorry and he knows how I feel, what is there left to say?
