The elevator doors opened. She stepped inside.
"I love you," he said. Simple. No smirk this time.
Maya closed her eyes. Her heart was a warzone—every memory a landmine. The nights he did come home, wrapped around her like she was the only oxygen in the room. The way he looked at her when no one else was watching. The way he made her feel like a queen and a ghost in the same breath. Tyga ft. Chris Brown - For The Road
The front door clicked.
"I'm taking what's mine," she said flatly. "Which, I realized, isn't much." The elevator doors opened
He stepped closer. Too close. His hand reached out, fingers brushing the strap of her suitcase. "You know how this life is. Cameras, clubs, groupies. It don't mean nothing. You're the one I come home to."
"I love you too," she said. "But love isn't enough when you're never really here." Simple
"It's not the jacket," she said, her voice cracking for the first time. "It's the girl who wore it last night. It's the text messages. It's the fact that I'm always for the road —never at the destination."
But words were cheap. And Tyga’s words were always on credit.