Fantasia's P.O.V.

My heart felt much lighter and happier than it has in a long time as I laughed and talked with Stasi over drinks. It feels like we're the only two people in the bar, and we're enjoying each other's company so much that it seems like we're going to be here until the sun comes up. It's so crazy to me that ex's can either be the best of friends or the worst of enemies no matter if the relationship ended amicably or viciously. Me and Stasi both are in a place in our lives where we're so satisfied with our own careers and our separate growth that we don't have to tear each other down and behave toxically towards each other just because things didn't work out between us. She's much more emotionally mature than Taraji. Still, seeing Taraji earlier tonight pulled emotions out of me that I wasn't prepared to feel. It would be easy for me to just write her off completely and date around like most hot, single women my age do, but doing the easy thing is boring. I like things that are hard. I like Taraji. I think that's why I'm feeling such intense emotions about this, because I genuinely like her and she made me feel regretful for that. I hate having regrets. I'm not a person that regrets anything, but Taraji changed that for me in the worst way possible. It truly sucks and it hurts.

Stasi: Man, I don't want tonight to end. I forgot how easy it is to talk to you. Is there anyone new in your life? You're such a catch, I can't imagine that you stayed single for long after we broke up. I know somebody has snatched your bad ass up by now.

I chuckled aloud but more so to myself, wondering if I should divulge to her my short-lived...connection, for lack of a better word, with Taraji P. Henson. I don't really know what to call what we had because the chemistry between us transcended way beyond a friendship, but at the same time it didn't go anywhere and nothing happened. It had the potential to become something more, something that can actually be labeled and defined, but Taraji ruined that when she invited Gabrielle into her bed. Nastasia is the easiest person in the world for me to talk to because she's so open-minded and easygoing, but I'm not sure if I should tell her about Taraji. My attraction to her felt too real and too deep for me to just be gossiping about it with my ex-girlfriend.

Stasi: I can see you trying to think of what to say next. There's definitely someone. Who is she?

Fantasia: I met someone and there was a strong potential for there to be something with her, but the spark kind of just fizzled out.

Stasi: Who is she, Tasia?

Fantasia: Taraji P. Henson.

Stasi: I don't know whose name I was expecting you to say, but it wasn't hers. I'm going to assume you met her through LaLa. Since when are you into older women?

Fantasia: I'm not into older women. I'm just into Taraji. Or at least I was until she fucked it up.

Stasi: What happened?

Fantasia: I don't want to go into detail about it. No offense, but it just feels too weird to talk about all of it with you. I haven't even completely sorted out my feelings about it.

Stasi: Well you must've been seriously feeling her if your situation with her is too personal to even talk to me about. One thing I've always admired about you is your determination to get what you desire. You're goal driven and you're always looking for something to work for. If things with Taraji are meant to go further than what you thought they could before, then you'll do whatever you can to make that happen. I don't know much about her as a person, but every time I see her in an interview she's always uplifting women and talking about how powerful strong relationships between women are. I could see you being drawn to someone like that.

I sipped my drink, thinking deeply about every word that she said to me. Nastasia knows me better than anybody so if she thinks that Taraji could be a good match for me, then I have to at least take it into consideration. Maybe I'm being too hard on Taraji. She's clearly apologetic and she's trying to make things better, so why isn't that enough for me? I honestly think it all goes back to my strained relationship with my mom. Whenever I came to her with a problem, she always told me to talk to God. I could never talk to her. She never made me feel like I was worth her time. I craved her attention and her affection and I did everything that would please her just so that I could get it, but nothing that I did was ever enough for her. I think that's why I'm so big on people recognizing my value and not taking me for granted. I tried a million times with my mom, so I don't see why I can't try again with Taraji. She better not make me regret it this time around.

Taraji's P.O.V.

I sat in the driveway of Kelvin's house, holding my engagement ring in the palm of my hand. My leg was bouncing anxiously and it felt like some invisible force was stopping me from getting out of the car. I could've easily sent the ring to him in the mail, but that feels to impersonal. We've been through too much together for me to just brush him off like that. Back in Aspen Fantasia told me that I don't owe him anything, but I feel like I owe him everything. He gave me a shoulder to cry on when I was used to my tears spilling into bottles of alcohol. He gave my life purpose and meaning outside of acting and working. The way he loved me so unapologetically and unwaveringly made me want to do a better job of loving myself. He gave me everything while I took so much from him. The least I could give him is this ring back. I feel like I should tell Fantasia that I'm seeing him tonight, not that she would put any effort or emotion into her response anyway. I don't know how it would affect her, but I feel like she should know. I finally got out of the car and walked up to the door, using the key that he gave me to unlock the door. I should've texted him ahead of time to let him know that I'm coming over, but acting impulsively is a habit that I'm struggling to break.

My heels clicked on the polished marble flooring as I called out Kelvin's name, receiving no response. I know that he's home because his Bentley is in the driveway. Maybe he's in the shower. I ascended the stairs, my eyebrows furrowing as the unmistakable sounds of moans fell upon my ears. Me and Kelvin haven't even been broken up for more than four months. There's no way that he's already moved on. Maybe he's just watching a really loud movie with a sex scene. But I know what his moans sound like. For the longest time, they only belonged to me. My heart was racing as I placed my hand on the doorknob and slowly twisted it. I didn't even make it past the threshold before my heart leapt out of my chest and shattered right there on his bedroom floor. I screamed in a sickening fury of tears and anger and betrayal and every other unhealthy human emotion in the book. Kelvin's eyes widened with fearful panic and he frantically scrambled to put his clothes back on. Gabrielle sat comfortably on his bed in all of her naked glory, her eyes locking with mine, a fiery blaze of lust and sinister malice flickering in her dark orbs. She wasn't trying to cover up. She wasn't making a move to get out of his bed and put her clothes on. She didn't even open her mouth to apologize to me and tell me that it was a mistake. Because it wasn't a mistake.

I should've chosen a drink instead of therapy. The bar tender can listen to me talk about my problems.