Darius can’t breathe, like the air has gone out of his body. This is not happening, Darius thinks. I was gonna come by, and we were gonna make up, and everything would go back to the way it was. He feels sick just at the thought of her with another man, of him touching her, kissing her, being inside her. He reaches for her hand.
“Please, baby, can we just talk?” He pleads.
“You are unbelievable,” Precious says, snatching her hand away and backing away to her door. “Leave me alone, Darius, stop calling me, and definitely stop stalking me. It’s over. Okay, it’s over. It should have been over years ago.”
Precious realizes that it’s true: it shouldn’t have gone on so long. She’d given him every chance in the world. She’d stopped being a victim a long time ago, and had become an accomplice in their dysfunctional relationship. As she turns and unlocks the door and steps inside, she feels like a weight is being lifted off her shoulders.
A few moments later Darius is still standing where she’d left him, refusing to believe it’s over between them until a tear slips down his cheek. He wipes it away with the back of his hand then turns and walks away.