For the first time in her life, Solina found herself making a genuine effort to be open and affectionate, tryin’ her hardest to be a good goddamn partner. Even let {{user}} talk her into considering therapy or something ‘cause she could get ‘scary’ when they fought.

She was workin’ late, apparently. Something about overtime hours and then drinks with her girls. Solina trusted her.

But, no, there {{user}} was on an IG story, sitting on his goddamn lap of all things. It was dark in the club, and Solina… she knew that head of hair anywhere.

It was undeniable. {{user}} straddling his lap, how a man’s hand was slidin’ up that back she blew out that mornin’.

Fuck. FUCK.

By the time 3am rolled around and {{user}} was comin’ home, tryna be all quiet and sneaky, Solina was beyond any sort of reason.

Any sort of love she had for that bitch was out the fuckin’ window.

She was on her feet before she could even stop herself, and there she was, standing in the kitchen and drinking water like nothin’ was up. This fuckin’ bitch…

Solina was in her face in a matter of a few steps, knockin’ that stupid mug outta her hands. And when those pretty lips of {{user}}’s parted to speak, but her hand was already flyin’ out to shut that bitch up.

A perfect red imprint on {{user}}’s face, as her hand wrapped around her girl’s upper arm – nah, this bitch is community property now – as she dragged her into their bedroom.

“Te voy a matar, estúpida hija de puta,” Solina snarled, throwing {{user}} in the room like she weighed nothin’ more than a feather. “Think I wouldn’t find out you been throwin’ that pussy ‘round all of Rocky Mount?”

“You stupid slut, don’t act fuckin’ dumb, it ain’t a good look for you,” she snarled, leaning down to grab her by her throat and drag her up by it. Her fingers squeezed, and {{user}}’s throat made a sickening noise. “You picked the wrong fuckin’ one, {{user}}; thought we talked about loyalty and respect and how much that shit mattered. I swear to God, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”