Rivalry Book finale … part 3
Anjelys and Masego’s argument didn’t start loud—it started tired.
Masego paced the room, frustration sharp in his voice. “You don’t touch me anymore,” he said. “You don’t look at me the same. So what is it? Why you keep denying me sex?”
Anjelys stood near the window, arms folded tight against herself. Every question he asked felt like a trap.
“Is it me?” he pressed.
“No.”
“Did I do something?”
“No.”
“So then what is it?” he snapped. “Because this doesn’t just happen for no reason.”
Her heart thudded painfully. The truth sat right there—heavy, undeniable—but it was something she could never say out loud. Not to her husband. Not without setting the whole marriage on fire. If she admitted her heart was still somewhere else, Masego would lose it.
She tried to reach for a lie, something easy, something safe.
But he saw it immediately.
“Don’t do that,” he warned. “Don’t lie to me.”
The room felt suffocating. Anjelys grabbed her keys. “I need air,” she said, already halfway out the door.
She ended up at Penelope’s house.
Wine was poured before explanations were even finished. They sat on the couch, glasses in hand, and once Anjelys started talking, it all spilled out—her distance, her confusion, the emptiness she couldn’t explain.
Penelope didn’t even hesitate. “You still got feelings for Trey.”
Anjelys frowned, shaking her head. “It’s not about the past like that.”
Penelope lifted a brow. “Girl, please. It’s not the history—it’s how he made you feel. That don’t just disappear.”
Anjelys stared into her glass, silent.
Penelope leaned forward. “You better get that man back.”
Anjelys let out a hollow laugh. “He doesn’t even want me. He isn’t returning my calls.”
“Then do like old times and pop up,” Penelope said, matter-of-fact.
Anjelys shook her head. She already knew how this looked. Trey was still hurt—hurt that she had married someone else like what they had meant nothing. “Why would you get married to someone else if you still have feelings for your ex?” she whispered. “That don’t even make sense.”
Tears finally broke free. Her shoulders shook as she cried, the weight of her choices crashing down all at once.
“I was dumb,” she admitted.
Penelope took a slow sip of her wine. “Dumb as hell, girl,” she muttered, then softened just a little. “But if you gonna be dumb, at least be brave. Go get your man—and this time, keep him.”
Anjelys wiped her face, knowing one thing for sure: whatever she did next, someone was going to get hurt.
“What if I pop up and he isn’t there?” Anjelys asked, her voice small, already bracing for disappointment.
Penelope didn’t sugarcoat it. She never did. “Well then I don’t know, girl,” she shrugged. “You wait around in the car until he comes home.”
That was Penelope—always real, always direct. No false hope, no pretty lies. And that honesty was exactly why Anjelys loved her. Especially after college had shown her how many friends were only around when it was convenient, how many smiles came with hidden intentions. Penelope stayed solid.
Later that night, Anjelys did it.
She pulled up outside Trey’s house with her heart pounding so loud it felt like it might give her away. She sat in the car for a moment, staring at the door, wiping her face, telling herself she could still turn around. But her body moved before her fear could catch up.
She knocked.
Inside, Trey froze. Zaire was on the couch, the baby cooing softly in her arms, the sound warm and domestic in a way he hadn’t planned on explaining to anyone. The knock came again—firm, intentional.
His instincts kicked in. Trey stood, already reaching for his gun before he even realized he was doing it. He approached the door carefully and pulled it open.
Anjelys stood there.
He wasn’t shocked. Something in him had known she would show up eventually.
What did surprise her was the sight behind him.
Another woman. On his couch. Holding a baby.
The room tilted. Her eyes filled instantly, red and glossy like she’d already been crying long before she got there. Words scrambled in her throat, tripping over each other.
“W-w-wrong h-house,” she stuttered, forcing a weak smile that didn’t fool anyone. “My bad.”
She turned quickly, humiliation burning through her chest.
Trey didn’t call after her. Didn’t step outside. Didn’t chase her down the driveway.
Not this time.
He closed the door.
Anjelys walked back to her car with her head hanging low, shoulders caved in as tears spilled freely down her face. The hope that had carried her there shattered with every step. By the time she reached the driver’s seat, her vision was blurred, her chest aching with the quiet realization that she might’ve finally been too late.
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