𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐓

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

Robyn let out a frustrated sigh as she parked her car in Psalm's complex. She pulled out her phone again, calling his number only to be greeted by his voicemail

   "Aye, this is Psalm. If you hear this, it means I'm busy right now. Holla at me later." She rolled her eyes at the corny message, chuckling to herself. After ending the call, she got out of her car, locking it up before making her way to Psalm's apartment.

  Robyn knocked on the door, her patience wearing thin as she waited for Psalm to answer. She could hear the distinctive sounds of Keith Sweat's old-school R&B playing in the background, confirming that he was indeed home.

    She knocked again, and this time Psalm opened the door, shirtless. As she looked past him into the apartment, she was taken aback by the sight of two other girls.

   One was half-dressed, while the other was completely naked. Robyn's face contorted into a look of disgust as she declared to Psalm "We need to talk."

    Psalm looked taken aback by Robyn's sudden arrival; he was confused at why she just popped up at his place all of a sudden wondering how she even had his address. He hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let her in. "What's going on, Robyn?" he asked.

      Robyn walked in, her eyes scanning the room, taking in the scene before her. She spotted a half-empty bottle of henny on the coffee table, surrounded by several empty glasses.

   The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and something else. something sweet and pungent.

    She screwed up her face in disgust. "Wrap this up" she said, casting a disapproving glance at the two girls. "Hey, don't ruin the party!" one of the girls slurred, her words sloppy with intoxication.

   "Can this wait for another time, Robyn? I ain't even get to finish what I started" Psalm pleaded, his eyes flicking back to the girls who were waiting for him.

"Wait for what? So you can finish screwing them? Go ahead, I'll wait," Robyn said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Psalm looked at her in disbelief. "You're joking, right?" he asked.

    But Robyn shook her head, her expression dead serious. "I'm not joking, Psalm. You asked for my help, and I'm here to help. But it seems like you're pretty occupied. Wrap it up, Psalm," she said, her voice firming up. "Now."

       Psalm scanned the room, his eyes darting around before saying, "Ladies, y'all gotta go, like now."

     He watched as they gathered their things and dressed, clearly disappointed that their activities had been cut short. As they left, one of the girls placed her hands on Psalm's face and whispered, "Call me when she's not here." She glared over at Robyn, who returned a fierce glare.

    Psalm closed the door, put on a shirt, and approached Robyn, asking, "So, what did we need to talk about?"

"This" Robyn says, pulling out printed screenshots from her briefcase. She holds up the sheets, revealing quotes from Aaliyah's Instagram account.

    "These aren't just any quotes, Psalm, and you know it," she says, pointing to the quotes and then showing him the captions. Psalm scans the screenshots, his eyes widening as he sees a picture of Aaliyah with scars and marks on her face and body, clearly the result of a brutal beating.

   "She warned people to be careful who they fall in love with" Robyn says, her voice firm, "and then she posted this picture." The implication hangs in the air that Psalm's ex-girlfriend Aaliyah was a victim of abuse.

"She could be talking about anyone, Robyn," Psalm replied with a shrug, trying to downplay the significance of the screenshots.

   "You're right, but that's something that can be used against you," Robyn countered, her eyes narrowing.

   "Have you ever been violent towards Aaliyah? Anything physical?" she asked directly. Psalm's defenses went up instantly. "No, I never laid a hand on her. I never touched her, nothing"

    Robyn scrutinized Psalm's expression, trying to detect any signs of dishonesty, but his face remained normal. Everything he said seemed sincere, leaving her uncertain if he was telling the truth or simply a skilled liar.

    She refilled the printed papers in her briefcase and stood up, asking, "May I take a tour of the place?" Psalm nodded, his eyes still guarded, "Of course, go ahead."

       Robyn began to walk through the house, taking in every detail. She noticed the expensive decorations, the lavish furniture, and the overall opulence that surrounded her.

    Psalm's house was tastefully decorated, surprising Robyn for a man's abode. "The reports state that there was a trail of blood from the kitchen to about here" Robyn said, still examining the space.

    Psalm countered, "That can't be right,  tea?" as he offered and Robyn declined with a polite "no, thank you." She then turned her attention to the trophies displayed in a glass frame, asking, "All these trophies are yours?" Psalm proudly confirmed, "Yes, ma'am.  I won four trophies in each Super Bowl season." Robyn nodded in impressed silence.

    As Robyn took in the surroundings, she realized there wasn't much to glean beyond the fact that Psalm had a nice house, which was normal for a successful football player.

     Turning towards him, she said, "Well, that's all I came here for today. I'll stay in touch." She began walking away when Psalm spoke up, "I was kind of hoping you'd stay." Robyn was taken aback, wondering why he would think that.

"Psalm, I have two kids to attend to, and you have whatever else you need to attend to" she said, referring to what she had walked in on earlier, which still left a bad taste in her mouth.

      Psalm chuckled, recalling their earlier encounter with the two girls. "Yeah, about that...sorry you had to witness that," he said, apologizing.

    Robyn laughed, waving it off. "No need to apologize, this is your place, do as you please."

"You know, I wouldn't have to call them up if you were willing to stay..." He drawled, his words dripping with suggestion. Robyn laughed, shaking her head.

     "Goodbye, Psalm!" She called out, heading towards the door. "Goodbye, Robyn..." Psalm replied, his voice low and husky, as she walked out, the door closing behind her with a soft click.