Lesbi Honest…. Part 4
Asha stared at Riley like she was looking at a stranger she used to know too well.
The tears.
The trembling lip.
The dramatic pause at the door.
None of it moved her.
Not anymore.
She folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the frame like Riley was a solicitor she had no interest in entertaining.
“Another chance?” Asha repeated, flat. “Riley… you had chances.”
Riley’s eyes welled even more. “I know I messed up, but I’m here now. I’m trying. I’ve been trying. I came to your job, I sent you things, I’ve been showing you—”
“That’s not trying,” Asha cut in, her voice sharp enough to make Riley flinch. “That’s forcing.”
Riley blinked.
Asha stepped outside, pulling the door behind her halfway so Riley couldn’t peek into her peace.
“You showing up uninvited at my office? Weird. Sending gifts to my house after I made it clear I didn’t want them? Disrespectful. Watching me from afar like some sad little ghost? Creepy.”
Riley’s mouth parted, hurt flashing across her face.
“I just wanted you to see I care.”
“No,” Asha said, eyes cold. “You wanted me to fold.”
Silence.
Riley looked down at the porch, her chest rising and falling hard. “That’s not fair.”
Asha laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“Fair?” she echoed. “Was it fair when I begged you to hear me the first time? Was it fair when I was trying to save us and you acted like I was too much? Was it fair when you made me feel like loving you was an inconvenience until I finally left?”
Riley swallowed.
“Asha…”
“No. You don’t get to cry your way back into my life because I stopped bleeding for you.”
That one landed.
Riley’s face crumpled. “I love you.”
Asha looked at her for a long moment.
And somehow, that hurt Riley more than if she had yelled.
“Maybe you do,” Asha said quietly. “But love without timing, accountability, and change is just another burden. And I’m not carrying you anymore.”
Riley shook her head, desperate now. “Please… please don’t do this. I know if you just let me in, if we can just sit down and talk, you’ll feel—”
“I don’t feel anything,” Asha said.
The words hit like a slap.
Riley went still.
Asha didn’t even look angry. That was the scary part. She looked done.
Completely. Irrevocably. Done.
“I used to wait for you,” Asha continued. “Used to pray you’d choose me right. Used to hope every text, every knock, every apology meant something real. But somewhere along the way, Riley…” She tilted her head, her voice calm and almost cruel in its honesty. “I got over you.”
Riley’s breath caught.
“You’re standing here fighting for a version of me that no longer exists.”
A tear slid down Riley’s cheek.
“So that’s it?” she whispered. “After everything?”
Asha gave a small shrug.
“After everything, I finally chose myself.”
Riley looked like she wanted to say more. Like she wanted to beg harder. Break down. Fall apart right there on the porch.
But Asha reached for the doorknob.
“I really hope you heal,” she said. “But you’re not doing it in my house. Or on my back.”
And with that—
She shut the door.
Riley stood there staring at the wood, breathing like the world had ended.
Inside, Asha picked her phone back up.
The person on the other end had heard enough to know exactly what happened.
“…You okay?” the voice asked softly.
Asha looked at the closed door, then walked away from it without a second glance.
“Yeah,” she said, sitting back down with a peace Riley hadn’t seen in months.
“I am now.”
Riley stood on that porch long after the door shut.
Like if she stared hard enough,
Asha would open it again.
She didn’t.
The porch light buzzed above her head.
Her chest was tight.
Her hands were shaking.
Asha’s words kept replaying.
I don’t feel anything.
I got over you.
You’re not doing it in my house. Or on my back.
Riley let out a broken laugh that turned into a shaky inhale.
“No…” she whispered to herself. “No, that’s not true. She’s angry. She’s just angry.”
She backed off the porch slowly, eyes still fixed on the house like she could see through the walls.
Then she saw it.
Through the slit in the curtains—
Asha laughing again.
That same soft laugh Riley had watched from afar earlier.
And then… a shadow moved behind her.
Tall.
Close.
Too close.
Riley’s face changed instantly.
Her grief curdled into rage.
“Who the fuck is that?” she whispered.
Inside the house, Asha leaned back on the couch, finally relaxed, talking low to whoever was with her. Riley couldn’t make out the face, just the silhouette moving around comfortably.
Comfortably.
In her place.
In her space.
In the space Riley still believed belonged to her.
Her breathing sped up.
“No,” she muttered. “No, no, no…”
Without thinking, Riley marched off the porch, went around the side of the house, and hopped the low gate into Asha’s backyard.
The cold air bit at her skin.
Her boots sank into the soft grass.
She moved fast—too fast, fueled by humiliation and heartbreak and that ugly thing that grows when rejection hits the wrong person.
She got to the back patio and peered through the sliding glass door.
And there Asha was.
Curled up on the couch.
Smiling.
With another woman.
The woman had one of Asha’s blankets over her lap like she belonged there.
Riley’s vision blurred.
“She moved on?” Riley hissed, eyes wide with disbelief. “Already?”
The woman reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind Asha’s ear.
Asha smiled.
Riley snapped.
She grabbed the ceramic planter sitting on the patio—a heavy one Asha used for her herbs—and with a guttural scream, she launched it straight through the sliding glass door.
CRASHHHHH.
Glass exploded inward.
Asha screamed and jumped up from the couch.
The other woman ducked, pulling Asha down with her.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Asha shouted, heart pounding.
Riley stepped through the shattered doorway like a woman possessed, tears streaming down her face, chest heaving.
“So this what it is?!” Riley screamed. “THIS why you couldn’t give me another chance?! You got another bitch in here?!”
Asha stared at her in complete disbelief.
“Are you fucking insane?!” Asha yelled, backing up.
The other woman stood up immediately, putting herself between Riley and Asha.
“Who the fuck are you talking to?” the woman snapped, voice low and dangerous.
Riley’s eyes flicked to her.
And froze.
Because it wasn’t just some woman.
It was Nia.
Asha’s cousin.
The cousin Riley had always hated because she saw right through her.
Nia stepped forward slowly, jaw clenched.
“You broke into this house over me being here?” Nia asked, almost offended. “Bitch, I was dropping off food.”
Riley’s face drained.
Asha was shaking now—not from sadness, but fury.
“You came in my backyard?” Asha said, voice deadly quiet. “You watched through my windows? You broke my door?”
Riley looked around at the shattered glass.
At Nia.
At Asha’s face.
Reality was beginning to hit.
But it was too late.
“I—I thought—”
“You thought wrong,” Nia snapped. “And now you got about five seconds before I drag your ass back through that broken glass myself.”
Riley took a step back.
“Asha, baby, listen—”
“Don’t call me that!” Asha roared.
Riley flinched.
Asha pointed toward the front of the house, eyes blazing.
“Get the fuck out before I call the police.”
Riley’s lips trembled. “You’d really call the police on me?”
Asha looked at her like she was sick.
“You broke into my home.”
Riley started crying harder now, like she was the victim.
“I was hurting! I just—”
“And now you’re dangerous,” Asha cut in.
That one hit different.
Riley shook her head frantically. “No, no, I’m not dangerous, I just love you, I just—”
“Love?” Asha laughed, but it sounded disgusted. “This ain’t love. This is obsession. This is control. This is you losing your mind because I said no.”
Nia had already pulled her phone out.
“I’m dialing,” she said bluntly.
Riley’s eyes widened. “Wait—”
But before she could say another word—
Blue and red lights flashed against the walls.
Because one of the neighbors had already called.
The crash had been loud enough to wake half the block.
Riley turned toward the front window, panic taking over.
“No… no, no, no…”
Asha folded her arms, shaking with adrenaline.
“This is what happens,” she said coldly, “when people think heartbreak gives them permission to violate somebody.”
A hard knock came at the front door.
“Police!”
Riley looked at Asha one last time, pleading, shattered, desperate.
“Asha… please…”
Asha’s face didn’t move.
“Open the door, Nia.”
Nia smirked.
“With pleasure.”
The front door swung open.
And Riley’s entire world started collapsing for real.
Reading this chapter of Lesbi Honest really resonated with me, especially the emotional realism portrayed in Asha's tough decision to prioritize her own well-being over painful attachment. It’s a powerful reminder that love isn’t just about feelings, but about timing, respect, and responsibility. From personal experience, I know how challenging it is to set firm boundaries when someone you care about is struggling to change. Often, what looks like love on the surface can mask deeper issues like control or unhealthy attachment, just as Asha points out in her confrontation with Riley. The depiction of Asha stepping away from repeated hurtful behavior highlights the importance of self-love and the courage it takes to say "enough is enough." Many people stay in painful cycles hoping their partner will change, but without accountability and real effort from both sides, it becomes an emotional burden instead of a nourishing connection. The story also touches on the complexities of grief transforming into anger and desperation, which felt very authentic. Riley's breakdown and subsequent actions demonstrate how heartbreak can lead some people to act irrationally, sometimes crossing dangerous lines. What I also found compelling was the portrayal of healthy boundaries extended through Asha’s refusal to tolerate intrusion—whether it’s uninvited visits, unwanted gifts, or breaking into personal space. It’s a significant lesson on how maintaining one’s peace requires firmness even when others are hurting. This can sometimes feel harsh, but it’s necessary for healing and growth. The inclusion of Nia, Asha’s cousin, adds another layer to the narrative, showing how allies can help enforce those boundaries and protect loved ones from harmful situations. It's a realistic look at how relationships can be interconnected and how external support plays a crucial role in personal empowerment. For anyone navigating difficult breakups or dealing with toxic patterns, this chapter provides a meaningful exploration of the stages of emotional separation and the importance of self-preservation. Ultimately, it reminds us that moving on isn’t about forgetting the past but about choosing peace and healthier futures. This story encourages readers to reflect honestly on their own relationships and to recognize when love has shifted into something else entirely—like obsession or control—and to take action accordingly.
