Lesbi Honest… part 2
Morning came too fast.
The bed was cold on Asha’s side.
Riley sat up, heart already sinking.
The bathroom light was off.
No shower running.
No “good morning, baby.”
Just the faint sound of keys.
By the time Riley made it to the window, Asha was already walking toward her car.
Not even a glance back.
Riley threw on her hoodie and rushed outside barefoot.
“Asha!”
No response.
The engine started.
Riley jogged up to the driver’s side and tapped sharply on the window.
“So this is where we at with it?” she asked, breath tight.
Asha looked over, confused — like she genuinely didn’t understand why Riley was upset.
That hurt worse than anything.
Riley leaned closer, lips forming words through the glass.
“Roll down the window,” she mouthed, jaw clenched.
“Don’t piss me off.”
Asha hesitated.
Finally, the window slid down halfway.
“What’s wrong with you this morning?” Asha asked.
Riley let out a shaky laugh.
“What’s wrong with me?”
“You ain’t say bye. You ain’t say nothing. You just leaving like I don’t exist.”
Asha sighed and looked forward at the steering wheel.
“I don’t wanna argue.”
“Funny,” Riley snapped softly. “’Cause I been fighting for us by myself.”
Silence stretched.
Then Riley’s voice cracked.
“Your distance started when my mama got in your ear. Ever since she been treating you like you not good enough for me — you been pulling away.”
Asha swallowed.
Riley stepped closer to the door.
“I love you, Asha. I’m not giving up on you. But you pushing me out like you already did.”
Asha finally looked at her — eyes tired, hurt, scared.
“You don’t understand how she makes me feel,” Asha whispered.
“Like I’m temporary. Like I’m a phase.”
Riley shook her head.
“She don’t get to decide us.”
Asha’s grip tightened on the wheel.
“But she already in your head,” Asha said quietly. “And that’s worse.”
The words hit hard.
Riley stood there, realizing the real enemy wasn’t distance.
It was doubt.
And it was winning.
⸻
Riley found her mother in the other room downstairs.
Karen sat in her chair, scrolling on her phone like nothing in the world was wrong.
“Ma, we need to talk.”
Karen didn’t look up.
“If this about that girl—”
“It is about Asha,” Riley snapped. “And you need to stop.”
Now Karen looked up.
“Stop what? Telling you the truth? That girl ain’t good for you, Riley. She too soft. Too emotional. You need somebody strong.”
Riley laughed bitterly.
“You don’t even know her.”
“I know her type,” Karen said. “They come in your life, drain you, then leave.”
“That’s you talking,” Riley shot back. “Not her.”
Karen folded her arms. “I’m your mother. I know what’s best.”
Riley stepped closer, eyes burning.
“No. You know control. You don’t know love.”
Karen’s jaw tightened.
Riley’s voice trembled but didn’t break.
“Asha cooks for me when I’m tired. She listens when I cry. She holds me when I don’t even got words. She makes me feel safe. She makes me feel chosen.”
Silence hit.
Karen scoffed. “That won’t last.”
“Yes it will — if you stop poisoning it,” Riley said.
Karen shook her head. “You too grown to be acting like this over some girl.”
That’s when something inside Riley finally snapped.
“You never cared and loved me like that!” Riley shouted, tears spilling over.
“I looked for that kind of love in every woman I came in contact with. All they ever had was YOUR traits!”
The room went still.
Karen stared, stunned.
Riley wiped her face angrily.
“All my life I been begging for warmth. For softness. For someone to show up for me. And when I finally get it, you try to take it away.”
Karen’s voice hardened.
“I did the best I could.”
“But it wasn’t enough,” Riley whispered. “And you know it.”
They stared at each other — years of resentment sitting heavy between them.
Riley straightened her back.
“I’m choosing Asha. With or without your approval.”
Karen scoffed.
“We’ll see.”
Riley turned away, heart pounding, knowing this fight was bigger than just Asha.
It was about the love she never got.
The office was quiet except for the steady clicking of keys.
Asha sat at her desk, eyes glued to the screen, fingers moving fast.
Focused.
Distant.
“Babe, I need to talk to you.”
The typing stopped for half a second.
Then continued.
“I’m listening,” Asha said flatly — still not looking up.
Riley’s chest tightened.
She stood there for a moment, hoping Asha would turn around.
She didn’t.
So Riley pulled the chair back and sat across from her.
“I went to my mom at work today,” Riley said softly. “I told her how you been treating me. How you take care of me. How you love me.”
Asha’s jaw tightened, but her eyes stayed on the screen.
“I told her she was wrong about you. That she didn’t get to come between us.”
Typing slowed.
Riley leaned forward.
“I told her how you cook for me when I’m tired. How you listen when I’m hurting. How you make me feel safe.”
Still no eye contact.
“And I told her something else,” Riley whispered.
Asha finally paused.
Riley swallowed.
“I told her she never loved me the way you do. That I been searching for that kind of love my whole life.”
Silence.
The computer hum felt loud.
Asha’s fingers hovered over the keyboard.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Asha said quietly.
Riley blinked. “Why?”
“Because now she gonna hate me even more,” Asha replied. “And now I’m the reason y’all relationship even worse.”
“No,” Riley said quickly. “You the reason I’m healing.”
Asha finally looked up.
Her eyes were tired. Hurt. Guarded.
“You don’t understand what it’s like walking into a room knowing your mama don’t respect you. Don’t want you with her daughter. Don’t even see you as real.”
Riley’s voice cracked.
“I stood up for us.”
Asha shook her head slowly.
“I didn’t ask you to fight her,” she whispered. “I just wanted peace.”
“And what about me?” Riley asked. “You leaving me is peace?”
Asha leaned back in her chair.
“I’m tired, Riley. Tired of feeling like I’m something you gotta defend. Tired of being the problem.”
“You not the problem,” Riley said through tears. “You my person.”
Asha looked away.
“Love shouldn’t feel this hard.”
The words cut deep.
Riley felt it then.
Asha wasn’t just hurt.
She was preparing to let go.
⸻
This story deeply resonated with me because it captures the complex emotional layers many LGBTQ+ couples face, especially when family dynamics interfere with their relationship. Dealing with disapproval and misunderstanding from loved ones can create immense pressure, often forcing partners to wrestle not only with their own feelings but also with external doubts and judgments. From personal experience, I've seen how crucial open communication and unwavering support between partners are in overcoming these hurdles. Riley's fierce determination to defend her relationship and her honest confrontation with her mother highlight the importance of standing up for the person you love despite opposition. It's a reminder that sometimes, healing and affirmation come from embracing authenticity and rejecting negativity. Asha's feelings of being seen as 'temporary' or 'a phase' reflect a painful reality for many queer individuals who struggle with acceptance not just from society but from their partner’s close circles. The story’s portrayal of emotional exhaustion and the desire for peace rather than conflict rings true to relationships where outside influence strains intimacy. For anyone navigating similar situations, leaning on your chosen family or supportive friends can be a lifeline. Remembering that doubts sown by others don't define your love is empowering. I hope readers find comfort and courage in Riley and Asha's narrative and are encouraged to foster relationships built on mutual respect, understanding, and unshakable commitment despite challenges.
