A NOVEL BY
Amber L. Monroe
OneSeven, LLC
Inspiration
I could’ve sworn this love shit was easy
Well, that’s what the books say
They don’t tell you when you’re a little girl
It won’t quite work out that way - Asiahn “Love Train”
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Copyright © 2020 OneSeven, LLC
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced without written authorization from the author, except for brief quotations to books and critical reviews. This story is a work of fiction. Characters, businesses, places, and events and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is merely coincidental.
Contents
Attention:
Prologue
1. Bre
2. Wayne
3. Chianne
4. Bre
5. Bre
6. Raquel
7. Eric
8.Bre
9. Bre
10. Wayne
11. Chianne
12. Eric
13. Wayne
14. Bre
16. Bre
15. Raquel
17. Eric
18. Wayne
19. Bre
20. Wayne
21. Chianne
22. Bre
23. Eric
24. Bre
25. Wayne
26. Raquel
27. Eric
28. Bre
29. Aretha
30. Bre
31. Chianne
Epilogue
32. Bre
33. Eric
34. Chianne
35. Wayne
36. Raquel
37. Jemar
38. Bre
39. Bre
Attention:
This book contains themes of physical/verbal abuse and toxic relationships.
Some chapters in this book may be triggering for some readers. Please exercise discretion when engaging with this book.
Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233
Website: https://www.thehotline.org/help/
Prologue
I was always told that I was a pretty girl, but I never let my looks take me places or get ahead in life. I was thick and curvy for my age and had long natural hair that was always kept up in some style. Although I was more mature than most sixteen-year-olds, I always acted my age and hung around kids my age too; I was never in a rush to grow up. My dark brown eyes, light caramel complexion, long eyelashes, and beautiful white teeth always caught the attention of older boys. I was too focused on school to pay attention to them, except this one guy; Jemar. When I laid eyes on him, I couldn’t stop looking. He was handsome and so charming to me, I soon fell in love with him. Jemar wasn’t the type to bring home to mom because of his short temper and lack of home training. He was never disrespectful towards adults, but I knew my mother wouldn’t approve because he was eighteen. So he was my little secret and only my best friend knew about him.
June 2015
I was wearing baby blue skinny jeans and a white crop top, light brown wedges, big gold hoops earrings, gold heart necklace, and gold bracelet. My natural hair was out, letting my curls blow in the wind. I was walking out of school mad because my best friend, Chianne, stayed behind so her grandmother could speak with the office about summer classes instead of going to the mall as planned. As I was heading out, I noticed him watching me as I walked by him. I never saw him around this area, which was odd because I grew up around the Saratoga area of DC and mainly knew everybody. I would’ve remembered his blemish-free beige complexion and tall statue. He was cute with his hazel-colored hooded-shaped eyes. His eyebrows were bushy and untrimmed, his lips were full and pink with a little discoloration because he probably smoked weed. He had a little mustache and chin hair. I could tell that he had just come from the barbershop because the lineup on his short sponge-twist looked fresh. Naturally, I was shy, but for some reason, I looked to make eye contact; he smiled at me. I smiled back and continued to walk down the street. I was halfway down the block until he walked up from behind me and smiled.
“Are you a stalker?” I asked. I noticed a small “H” tattoo under his right eye. I later found out that it was for his last name (Henríquez).
“Nope, I just want to know why you were walking so fast,” He replied as he tried to catch his breath.
“This is the pace I walk, is that a problem?” I said, stopping at the crosswalk, waiting for the “Walk” signal.
“Nope, I love a girl that enjoys the exercise. So do you have a man?” He asked as he looked me up and down then at my breasts.
“No,” I started walking across the street to 12th and Monroe. I couldn’t believe that he was still following me. I walked inside of Wings-to-Go and placed an order of lemon pepper wings, fries, and a drink. As soon as I was getting ready to pay, he put a $20 on the counter.
“Damn, it’s like that?” I said, smiling hard; I was so corny. I grabbed my food and sat down to eat. I offered him some and took a couple of wings. As we sat there eating, we began talking. We noticed that we had a few things in common, like how both of our fathers were from small islands; his father was Puerto Rican, and my father was Jamaican. Drake was our favorite rapper, and lemon pepper wings were our favorite wing flavor. It was just something about him that I liked, and I think that’s where I messed up. Of course, at the time, all I could think about was how cute and funny he was, but those looks and charm would only go so far.
∞∞∞
September 2015
I was over my boyfriend, Jemar’s house, in the bathroom, we had just come from the CVS.
“Did you use the bathroom yet?” He asked, opening the bathroom door. I waited for either a positive (+) or negative (-) symbol to appear on the pregnancy test. My eyes began to water when I saw the positive sign appear. My heart began to race, and it was hard for me to swallow. My boyfriend took the test and read it, and then he looked at me as I was now silent.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked, trying to read his face for some type of emotion.
“I don’t know what
