Honey's Poisoned Toy

Finally, I couldn’t take the silence anymore. I sat her down and tried to explain how the shift was making me feel used, discarded, confused. Her reaction was swift and vicious.

She dismissed me instantly. Yelled. Screamed that she didn’t have time for my “bullshit insecurities.” The argument escalated until she stormed out and drove to her mother’s house. From that night on, our communication withered to almost nothing: a single, perfunctory “good morning” text each day, followed by twenty-four hours of icy silence. For an entire month, I existed in emotional limbo, checking my phone obsessively only to be met with the same cold void.

When I finally confronted her in person about how ignored and unloved I felt, she turned cruelly snarky. She gaslit me without hesitation, rolling her eyes and telling me I was imagining things, that I was crazy for even bringing it up. All the while, I watched in real time as her friends, her sides, her endless social circle took priority over me. I was the last person she made time for, if she made time at all.

Two weeks later, she texted me out of nowhere: “Come over to my mom’s after work.”

Hope flickered foolishly in my chest. I drove the entire way with my heart pounding, arriving right after clocking out. When I walked in, she was wearing tiny booty shorts that rode high on her ass, the curves of her cheeks barely contained. Her breath smelled strongly of alcohol, sweet and sharp. She pressed herself against me, voice husky and needy, whispering how badly she wanted me to eat her pussy right then and there how she’d been thinking about my tongue all day.

For one brief, intoxicating moment, it felt like the old fire might still be there.

Then, without warning, she pulled away. She grabbed a bottle, stepped outside, and climbed into my car alone. For over an hour she sat there, windows cracked, smoking weed, sipping liquor, blasting music, completely lost in her own world while I waited inside like a fool.

Eventually I walked to the front window. My car was parked directly in view. I texted her: “You okay? Are we still vibing?”

From inside the house I watched her pick up her phone, glance at the message, and set it back down without replying.