A test of Love by Navaura Campbell (simple e reader .txt) 📖

many brothers have been looking at me like they want to kill me lately. Especially the ones on campus. It's alright for them to talk to white girls but I can't talk to you?" He put a frustrated hand through his hair, "What kind of shit is that? What makes them think they're better than me?"
Denise inhaled, "It's because of slavery and the way everything was..."
Jordan cut her off. "That's bull shit Denise. If slavery had anything to do with it, they wouldn't like white girls."
"You know what Jordan, baby.." Denise got up and went over to him and ran a hand over his shoulder. "It doesn't matter because we're going to be together regardless." Jordan shook his head no. "What if you and I shouldn't be together, Denise? What if we are meant to be with someone else?"
Denise turned his body toward hers, "What do you mean?"
Jordan inhaled a sharp breath. "I mean, what if we aren't supposed to be together? It seems that every time we are together, there's nothing but drama."
Denise's voice rose a fraction, "That's dumb Jordan."
Jordan glanced into her eyes, "Is it?"
Denise nodded her head vigorously, "Don't Jordan, please don't." She grabbed his hand and pulled it up to her mouth. "I love you, Jordan. Don't you get it?"
"In life Denise, love is just a four letter word. It doesn't matter if you love me or I love you, people still are going to talk. They're going to be unacceptable of us. Maybe you should be with a black man."
Denise shook her head no. "Jordan, I understand..." Her voice shook as she tried to get out the words. They squeezed in her throat. "I understand that it's difficult for you but we have love baby, that's all we need."
Jordan pulled his hand from hers. "No it's not Denise. If it was, people wouldn't act a fool every time they see us together."
"Jordan, the only people who do that are Anton and his cronies. I don't care what they say."
Jordan shook his head, "Denise, I got into a fight tonight because he hated seeing us together. Do you know how that feels? Do you know how it feels to have someone hate you because you're dating someone of a different color than yourself?"
"I went through it with your uncle the first time I met him."
"Denise, it's been a year. Twelve whole months since he and I first met and it seems like he hates me more and more. It seems like there are more and more people with each growing month. Do you know what it's like to have other guys ogle you and then look at me like I'm the worst man on the planet because I have you and they don't?"
"Jordan, none of that matters to me. I love you, I'm with you, not them."
Jordan shook his head, "No, you know what; I don't think we should get married Denise." Denise raised her voice this time, hysterical. "WHAT!"
He looked up at her, his eyes hard, "We shouldn't be together, De-De. This is a mistake."
"Jordan, but..but..all the stuff.." Her voice cracked and she felt tears well up in her eyes. "I'm going to leave, you...you just need to calm down and think things through more, you are over exaggerating everything...I..I...I'm going to go." She ran to the door before he could finish ripping her heart to pieces.
Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter 35
Mid September.

Jordan felt a heavy weight in his heart when ever he looked at her photo, which sat on his desk and in his wallet. He was sitting there at his desk staring at her photo, but when he thought about what happened with Anton, he was still furious. Grabbing her photo, he took it and placed it in the bottom drawer. Looking around the room, he took anything that reminded him of her down. He even went through everything she'd given him the past year. He was rummaging through the closet when he heard a knock at the door. A black scarf with gloves she'd bought him was draped across his arms. Another knock sounded. Going to the door he opened it. The person of his thoughts stood there, staring back at him with a smile. Because he couldn't conjure one up, he just stared at her and then turned back to the task of what he was doing. He took the scarf over to the garbage bag and dropped it in there. Denise looked over at the walls. They were bare of all the cards she'd bought and given to him over the past year. Looking over to his desk, she noticed that her picture was gone. Closing the door, her heart beat sped up, "Are you redecorating or something?"
Jordan said in a flat quiet tone. "Something like that."
"Why'd you take everything off the wall? Where's my picture?" She walked past him, to where he went through the closet again and grabbed the clothing she'd brought him. When she saw him take it down, she asked, "Jordan, what are you doing?" Her voice was trembling and you could hear the tears coming up to the surface. She ran into the living area off the dorm and noticed the books she'd bought him on non fictional crimes were gone. Turning to where he stood, she grasped the necklace that hung around her neck and pulled at it. It broke. "While you're at it, don't forget this." Pursing her lips together, she wiped her eyes as the ache became overbearing, "An..and..." She couldn't even get the words out as she pulled off the ring he'd given her and threw it in the bag as well. He listened, as she walked to the door. The sobbing she was doing became louder; against her wishes as she'd tried to hold back the pool of tears that cascaded down her cheeks. She opened it and walked out. A few seconds later, she opened the door again and came back into the room. Reaching up, she landed a hard slap across his face. This whipped his head to the side. She gasped, her heart split in two, "Don't ever, ever call me again."

Three months after Jordan officially broke up with her, Denise was still crying. Although she went to class, she was so lost and so hurt that she could not tell you anything she'd been instructed in the classes. She tried so hard to forget about him, but it seemed that as the days went by, her love for him grew stronger. She missed him so bad. She still was in shock over the fact that he'd broken up with her. This time it wasn't her fault. Inside she felt as if her life was dying out. She slept more, ate more and became increasingly moody toward everyone. She was depressed. She wouldn't talk to anyone, not even Neema, who was the closest friend she had on campus. To top it all off, she had been missing her period for a good thirty days. This she knew was due to stress. Not because she'd been to the doctor, but because it had to be. There was no way she could get pregnant while on birth control, especially when she took it regularly. She was scared to even think that she might be. Never mind the fact that her breasts were always sore, there was a regular bloating in her stomach and certain foods made her throw up. She could barely stomach being around anyone when they cooked. But, no, this stuff didn't mean she was pregnant. There was no way in hell she would raise that Jerk's baby on her own. Taking a deep breath, she stared up at the wall, her eyelids heavy, but unable to fall asleep. She wished so hard that she didn't think about him. She wished so hard that she didn't smell his scent at the oddest times and she wished even harder that she could die. She knew a quick death would make her pain go away. She'd thought of all the possible ways of killing him before finally coming to the conclusion that maybe she was the one better off dead.

Getting up, she went into the kitchen to see what her chosen weapon would be. She knew she wanted something quick, something painless, however, she didn't know what. A glance at the knives, and she knew from in the movies that that wouldn't work. She continued to look around for stuff. She opened the bottom cabinets of cleaning solutions and sighed melancholy. Which was quicker? Death by bleach or death by Pine sol? At this point she didn't really care. She grabbed the bottle of pine sol and twisted the cap off. Just then a knock came at the door. She paused. Glancing at the pine sol, she tilted it up to her mouth.
After knocking, Neema gathered the idea that if Denise was not answering any of her calls she wouldn't answer the door. Just out of thought, it occured to her to twist the door knob. She did so and when she did, just her luck, it opened. She called out Denise's name. Letting her know that she was there.

Denise's head turned toward the sound of Neema's voice. Just as she did, Neema peered around the corner. A loud gasp escaped her lips as she raced to help her friend, "De, no, girl, no, don't do that. Going over to Denise, she grabbed the bottle from her hand and inspected it to see what was left. There was no way to tell if she had drank any or not. Neema glanced down at a despondent Denise, “De, did you drink any of this?” Denise glanced up at her, lips trembling, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes, “I would have had you not interrupted me. Neema exhaled, relieved. Reaching down, she grabbed Denise's hand and pulled her up to her feet. "De, honey, that's not the way to do things girl."
"I don't care." Denise stated, her tone soft. .
"What about your family? Don't you think they would miss you?"
Denise shook her head no.
"What about school?"
"It doesn't matter. I don't care anymore. I just want to die." She pulled away from Neema and dropped down onto the bed. Her heart aching so bad she was sure it would explode at any minute.
"Denise, Jordan was a jerk."
"I wish I never met him, Neema. He did this to me." The pain that engulfed her only made the ache intensify even more. God she wished Neema hadn't shown up.
Neema swallowed and knelt down in front of her friend. "I know, sugar, but killing yourself won't make it go away."
Denise shrugged her shoulders and expelled a sharp breath. " I won't think about him anymore. I can stop crying and not miss him so much. If I was gone, I wouldn't hurt. I hurt so much I didn't think I'd ever hurt like this."
"I know love, but you got to be strong."
"Strong? I used to be strong before I met him, I never let any guy come near me, let alone talk to me, but then after I met him it all changed. I became weak and feeble."
Neema inhaled sharply, "You are not weak and