He came home and I send him on his way.

So, boom. Earlier today this man really had the audacity to show up at my apartment...like nothing ever happened.

Yep ..Andre Lamar Jones.

It was around 10:30 this morning and I had just gotten out the tub, wrapped in peace and cocoa butter, minding my own business, when the door swings open....And I’m thinking ....perfect timing, because I’ve been waiting to dig in his entire soul.

He steps in, smelling like cologne and confusion, trying to hug me like we’re fine.

But baby, I stopped him mid-step, pulled up that picture on my phone, and said ..

“So, who is this?”

The look on his face was a whole sermon.

He hit me with that classic “what’chu mean?” like men forget the internet exists.

So I laid it out plain ...I saw the posts, I saw the emojis, I saw the little “thanks boo” from Miss Veronica with the jeggings.

And I asked, “So how was dinner, Dre? Y’all catching up or catching feelings?”

He swore up and down that nothing happened.

Calm. Too calm. Which only made me hotter.

I’m pacing, talking fast, and I can feel my voice getting louder ...

I told him, “Either it’s me or it’s her, but you not about to play both sides of this heart.”

He’s standing there, saying she’s just a friend from Southern, “nothing to it.”

But see, I don’t trust it

To me all he was saying was “everything happened but I ain’t confessing.”

Then I spotted his bag by the door ...and I already knew what was in it. His PlayStation 3.AKA his emotional support machine...

So as married as I was... I said, “You know what? Let’s end this now.”

And before I could even think twice, I grabbed that bag, walked to the window, and let it fly.

Crash.

It was dead silent for about a good two or three minutes..then...

He pushed me ...not hard, just enough to say “what the hell.”

And me, being the dramatic goddess I was in that moment, let out a scream that could’ve won an Oscar.

Next thing I know, one of neighbors called the police...

Meanwhile I’m standing there, laughing out the window like, that’s what happens when you play with me.

He came back upstairs, quiet,, and just said, “Check the mail.”

Didn’t yell, didn’t argue. Just walked out.

Girl.

Why I go to the mailbox twenty minutes later and there’s a $1,000 Sephora gift card with my name on it?

Now I feel bad — a little — but not enough to apologize.

Because even though I might’ve been the villain.. at least I was a cute one.