Last One Standing…. Part 1
Latoya’s words hung in the air like a slap.
Soho stared at her, jaw tight, chest rising and falling hard.
“Why would you even say that dumb shit?” she snapped, stepping closer.
Latoya folded her arms over her chest, but her eyes were already glossy. “Because it’s true.”
“The fuck it is.”
“It is, Soho!” Latoya shouted back, her voice cracking. “You shut down every time shit get real. You pull away, get cold, start acting distant, then wanna pop back up talking about you love me. That’s exactly what they used to do.”
Soho’s nostrils flared. “Don’t put me in the same box as them niggas.”
“Then stop moving like them!”
That hit.
Soho went silent, but it wasn’t because she didn’t have something to say. It was because Latoya had struck the exact place she tried hardest to protect.
Latoya took a shaky breath and shook her head. “I’m tired of feeling stupid. Tired of feeling like I’m begging somebody to choose me when they already standing in my face.”
Soho looked away for a second, dragging a hand over her mouth. “You think this easy for me?”
“No, I think you make it hard on purpose.”
That made Soho laugh—but it was bitter, sharp, humorless.
“You think I want this?” Soho asked, voice low now. “You think I want to feel like every time I get too close to you, I’m finna lose my damn mind?”
Latoya blinked.
Soho stepped closer, her voice rougher now, more honest than she meant it to be.
“You got me fucked up in ways I ain’t never been fucked up before. I don’t sleep right when we off. I can’t eat when we fight. I be at work mad as hell, taking it out on everybody because you ain’t text me back. And you standing here telling me I don’t act like I love you?”
Latoya’s face softened, but only a little. “Then why you keep hurting me?”
That one broke something open.
Soho’s eyes flickered. She looked down. For once, there was no attitude, no slick comeback.
“Because I don’t know how to be soft without feeling weak,” she admitted quietly. “And every time you get too close… I start thinking you gon’ see something in me that make you leave.”
Latoya’s breath caught.
The room got still.
The tension between them shifted—less fire, more ache.
“So instead,” Latoya whispered, “you push me first.”
Soho swallowed hard.
“Yeah.”
Latoya looked at her for a long moment, then laughed under her breath, but it was sad. “That shit is cruel, Soho.”
“I know.”
“So what, I’m supposed to just keep taking it because you scared?”
“No.” Soho’s voice cracked this time. “I’m asking you not to give up on me while I’m trying.”
Latoya looked at her like she wanted to believe her… but didn’t know if she should.
“Trying?” she asked. “Trying would look like consistency. Trying would look like not disappearing on me when you in your head. Trying would look like reassuring me instead of making me feel like I’m a burden every time I ask for more.”
Soho clenched her fists, because everything Latoya said was true.
“I ain’t never had nobody love me right,” Soho muttered.
Latoya stepped forward now, tears finally falling. “That ain’t my fault.”
“I know.”
“So why am I paying for what other people did to you?”
Soho looked up at her, eyes red now, raw.
“You shouldn’t be.”
The silence between them turned heavy again, but this time it was the kind that came before a decision.
Latoya wiped her face angrily. “I love you, Soho. That’s the problem. I love you enough to stay… even when I know this shit is breaking me.”
Soho’s face twisted at that.
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth.”
Before Soho could answer, Latoya’s phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.
Neither of them moved at first.
Then it buzzed again.
And again.
Latoya frowned and turned, grabbing it.
The second she looked at the screen, her whole face changed.
Soho noticed immediately. “Who is that?”
Latoya didn’t answer.
“So who the fuck is that?” Soho demanded, stepping closer.
Latoya locked the screen too fast.
That alone made Soho’s blood run hot.
“Latoya.”
“It’s nobody.”
“Don’t lie to me in my face.”
Latoya’s jaw tightened. “Why you care now?”
That did it.
Soho snatched the phone from her hand.
“SOHO!” Latoya lunged for it, but Soho already saw the message.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
You still messing with her after what she did? Ask Soho where she was the night of June 8th.
Soho froze.
Latoya stopped too.
The whole room dropped cold.
Latoya slowly looked up at her, hurt draining into suspicion.
“…What the fuck is that?”
Soho’s face went blank.
Not because she didn’t know.
Because she knew exactly what June 8th was.
And if Latoya found out the truth about that night—
everything between them would burn.
This story captures perfectly the complex dynamics in relationships where past wounds and insecurities influence how love is expressed and received. Latoya and Soho’s dialogue reveals how fear of vulnerability can lead to pushing partners away, even when love is present. In real life, many people face similar challenges where past betrayals or trauma create barriers to open communication and emotional safety. I’ve personally experienced relationships where hesitation to be “soft” or show true feelings led to misunderstandings and unintended pain. The key, as the story suggests, is consistency and reassurance — showing up even when it’s hard. Often, the person who seems distant isn’t indifferent but is struggling internally with fears of rejection, like Soho. Recognizing this nuance is crucial. The mysterious message about June 8th adds an element of suspense that reflects how secrets can poison trust. In relationships I’ve known, undisclosed events or withheld information drastically damage bonds because they undermine honesty and foster suspicion. This story reminds us of the importance of transparency and confronting difficult truths together. For anyone navigating tough relationship moments, this narrative emphasizes patience and empathy. Love isn't just about feelings but also about commitment to working through confusion, fear, and imperfection. The emotional rawness in Latoya and Soho’s exchange resonates because it feels authentic—a reminder that real love often involves vulnerability. If you find yourself relating to Soho's struggle to balance strength and softness, or Latoya's pain from feeling neglected despite deep love, know that healing is possible through open conversations and mutual effort. Stories like this serve as mirrors and guides, encouraging us to confront our emotional barriers and foster deeper connection despite the scars we carry.