Chapter Thirty: Unclaimed but Not Unwanted
766 Words
Lyric
I didn’t even wait for Zay to get back.
Soon as I heard the front door shut behind him earlier that morning, I pulled on my jeans, grabbed my phone, and dipped.
Didn’t leave a note.
Didn’t text.
Didn’t owe him sh*t.
I had no idea where we stood.
All I knew was — I wasn’t about to sit in another man’s house feeling like just another name on his phone.
When I got home, Mama was gone. Probably at her homegirl's house, playing cards and talking sh*t.
Good.
I needed silence.
I needed space.
But what I didn’t expect was the weight in my chest.
That drawer.
That “I miss you” text.
The way he kissed my shoulder like that fixed everything.
I looked in the mirror. Hair still laid. Edges still perfect. Skin glowing.
I didn’t feel broken.
I felt mad.
I opened i********:.
Took a fresh mirror pic in my room. No filter. Just me in a tight cropped tee and those high-waisted jeans that hugged me right.
Caption?
Unclaimed but not unwanted 💅🏽
👀✨
Posted it. Locked my phone. Walked away.
Not five minutes later, my notifications started buzzing.
Likes.
Comments.
And one that made my heart stop:
@KingTrey:
“You been fine.” 🔥🔥
Trey. Verified.
Thick beard. Tattoos. Hoodie modeling campaigns.
6'4 problems.
I smirked.
Just a little.
And just like clockwork…
Zay watched my story.
No like.
No comment.
No message.
But he saw it.
Good.
That evening, Janiyah called me while I was still stewing.
“Bestie… I’m done with Smoke.”
I laughed dryly. “This time for real?”
She groaned. “He too hot and cold. Today he ain't even say good morning. Like who raised you?”
“What happened?”
“He dropped me off, barely said bye. I texted him a long ass paragraph. You wanna read it?”
I laughed. “You know I do.”
We were mid-reading it out loud when I heard music blasting outside my house.
I peeked through the blinds.
“Bitch.”
“What?” she said.
“Smoke outside your house.”
“NO TF HE NOT.”
“Yes tf he is.”
Smoke was out there, leaning on his car, hoodie on, phone in hand, like he ain’t have me and Janiyah both on edge.
Janiyah groaned through the phone.
“He ain’t even done sh*t to fix it.”
I stayed on the phone as she went outside, and I heard them arguing lowkey.
I smiled sadly.
‘Cause I knew that tone.
That “I hate you but I love you” energy.
I knew it too well.
It was late. Dark. Quiet. I was scrolling t****k, not even really watching when I heard a knock.
Not the door.
My window.
I jumped up.
Pulled the curtain back.
And there he was.
Zay.
Standing outside my bedroom window like this was a damn movie.
I unlocked it.
“What are you doing?”
He climbed in like he had a key to my whole life.
“I ain’t hear from you all day,” he said calmly. “You just left.”
“You ain’t ask me to stay.”
His jaw tightened.
“I ain’t gotta beg you, Lyric.”
I crossed my arms.
“No. But if I meant anything, I wouldn’t have to guess where I stand.”
He looked at me. Long. Quiet.
Then said:
“Who the hell is Trey?”
I blinked.
“What?”
He pulled out his phone, opened my post, tilted it toward me.
“This dude? Commenting like he knows you?”
I tilted my head, full of petty.
“He follows me. You don’t.”
That struck him hard.
He stepped closer.
“So you trying to get attention from other dudes now?”
I didn’t back down.
“I’m not getting anything from you.”
He exhaled, shook his head.
“Lyric…”
I held up a hand.
“Nah. Don’t say nothing. You ain’t gotta explain. Just climb back out the same way you came.”
His jaw clenched. He didn’t move.
“You forreal?”
“Zay. I’m not almost. I’m not ‘maybe.’ I’m not the drawer girl. If I’m not yours… don’t keep pulling me back.”
He didn’t say sh*t.
He just stood there, breathing heavy.
Until he turned around… and climbed back out the window.
Didn’t slam it.
Didn’t yell.
But he left me standing there — a soft ache in my chest… and a lot of silence.
- Writer
