“She’s not her sister,” Dolce reminded him. “And if you would let go of the past, maybe you could move forward and appreciate a good woman that’s right in front of you.” Dolce’s voice was laced in resentment. He had wounded her. She had been in the picture before he had ever loved Raven, and he had cast her aside to love other women, over the years. Hurting her was never his intention. He was always honest about where they stood; but somehow, she always ended up expecting more. She walked away, and he could tell by the way she threw her hips, with a mission, from side to side, that she was filled with attitude and anger. Ethic sighed.

I’ve got to stop fucking with her. She can’t handle friends with benefits. She says she can, but her actions always speak the opposite, he thought. Ethic knew she was waiting around, hoping to get a ring by default, or even a promotion to an official title of girlfriend, but he just couldn’t give that to her. That type of commitment required a connection that they just didn’t share. Ethic knew it was wrong to string her along, but she was always so available to him. Even when he told her that he wasn’t looking to make things serious, she still stayed. She still cooked, and sucked, and fucked, and catered to him, as if she was doing it to earn a prize. Their sexual chemistry was amazing; but in every other aspect between a man and woman, they were flat. Ethic didn’t know if his standards were just too high, or if Dolce was falling short, but he couldn’t give her more. He wondered if he was causing her the type of pain that plagued him. It seemed to be a cycle. People loved the ones that couldn’t love them back. The ways of the world were just fucked up that way.