When Delicia tells Iman on the call that King proposed to her, Iman is filled with rage." See Full Story BELOW⬇

 

When Rage Replaces Love

A Call That Burned Everything

Iman dialed Delicia’s number with a quiet smile playing on his lips. Weeks had passed since they last spoke properly, yet his heart still lived in the memories — the late-night conversations, the laughter that once felt endless, the future they never finished imagining.

The phone rang. Once. Twice.

Delicia: “Hello?”

Her voice sounded lighter than he remembered. Almost too light.

Iman: “Delicia… it’s me. I just wanted to check on you. How are you doing?”

There was a pause — brief, controlled — but Iman felt it settle in his chest.

Delicia: “I’m really good, Iman. Actually… I’m really happy.”

That word echoed louder than the silence around him.

Iman: “Happy?” “What’s making you so happy?”

Delicia: “I’m happy with King.”

The name slid into Iman’s heart like a blade made of ice.

Iman: “King?” “Who’s King?”

Delicia smiled on the other end of the call — calm, certain.

Delicia: “He’s my boyfriend. And he proposed to me.”

Silence.

Iman’s fingers tightened around his phone. His chest grew heavy, as if something precious had fallen — not loudly, but forever.

Iman: “Proposed?”

Delicia: “Yes. He wants to marry me. And I said yes.”

Something inside Iman finally broke.

The quiet affection he carried shattered into rage and burning jealousy.

Iman: “So fast?” “You barely know him.”

Delicia: “I know him well enough. He treats me right.”

Iman stood, pacing the dark room, anger seeping into every step.

Iman: “He’s not right for you. You should stay away from him.”

Delicia went quiet — then laughed softly.

Delicia: “Why are you so angry?” “Why do you sound… jealous?”

Iman stopped moving.

Iman: “I care about you.”

Delicia: “Then be honest. You’re jealous because you still love me.”

Her words didn’t shout. They cut.

Iman: “You moved on too quickly.”

Delicia: “No. I chose happiness.”

Delicia: “King makes me feel safe. wanted. loved.”

That word — loved — echoed like a wound reopening.

Iman: “What if he hurts you?”

Delicia: “Then I’ll face it. But I won’t stop living because of fear.”

Delicia: “Your jealousy isn’t my responsibility anymore.”

---

The call ended.

Iman stood alone in the dark, staring at his phone — burning with everything he never said.

Love doesn’t always leave loudly. Sometimes, it walks away quietly — while you’re left behind with nothing but rage and regret.