I rolled my eyes, walking up to his g wagon. Slamming the door after hopping in the front seat.

"Don't slam shit."

"Shut the hell up." I stuck my middle finger up, before crossing my arms and placing my legs on the dash.

"You not gone say thank you for bailing you out?" Melo looked at me. "And not pressing charges?"

"Tuh," I laughed. Was this nigga serious? "Why would I thank you? You're the reason I was in there."

His dumb little side whore called the cops on us. Stephanie got away but, I had the knife in my hand so the cops instantly took my ass in. I didn't care though, I knew Melo was going to bail me out. There was no way he wasn't, he was stuck on me like glue.

"Why you always gotta do so much?" He pulled off out of the parking lot.

I sighed, looking out the window. I don't even know why he's talking to me right now. Why do men always seem to make it feel like your crazy for caring?

"Mel."

I squeezed my eyes shut holding my head, maybe he'd get the hint and shut the fuck up.

He smacked his lips. "Melissa." He smacked my bare thigh causing me to yelp.

"Ow! Don't be hitting me." I yelled, shooting a glare at him.

"Then answer my question." He pulled up to another stop sign looking over at me. No one was behind us so he just sat there.

"Why is it I'm always doing to much? Why is it never, 'I'm sorry for making you act this way and constantly cheating on you.'" I scoffed. "It's just like you niggas never wanna take responsibilities for your actions, it's always somehow our fault."

"That's how you feel forreal?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "That's what I said, isn't it?"

He sighed throwing his head back, staring back at me. "You know I love you Melissa, why you think I always come back to your crazy ass?" He puckered his lips wanting a kiss.

I leaned across the console kissing his lips, passionately. Hoping that I'd feel the way I wanted to feel, but pulling away from him I realized something. I didn't feel those butterflies I used to get from him anymore and thinking about it I haven't felt that way in months.

"What's wrong?"

"I would say we're no good for each other, but truth be told it's you. You're no good for me. I don't think I love you anymore."