Can't Let Go - A Contemporary BWWM Romance (18 page)

Work
night sleepovers were always fun until the next morning. That Tuesday, I didn’t
forget to turn my alarm on and neither did
he.
We set
both an extra half hour early just in case.

When
his phone went off at six a.m., I didn’t want to wake up. I wanted to lay with
him forever. I didn’t want that happy, glowy, nothing-else-matters mood to fade
away.

He
slowly pulled his arm out from under me, wrongfully assuming I was still
asleep.

I
cracked my eyes open just a pinch. “You can use my shower if you want. Towels
are in the linen closet.”

“It’s
okay,” he whispered. “I’m going to head back to my place and get ready. All my
work things are there.”

I
sat
up,
refreshed from the amazing night’s sleep I’d
just experienced, and watched him get dressed. The way his abs rippled as he
slid his pants on and the way the muscles in his forearms shifted as he lifted
his shirt over his head were nearly enough to send me over.

Without
any sort of warning, my bedroom door flung open.

“I
thought I heard a man’s voice in here…” It was LaLa. Her eagle eyes honed in on
Kevin, who was thankfully dressed, and she shot him a skeptical look.

“Good
morning to you too,” I said. “I take it you had a sleepover of your own last
night?”

“Yeah,”
she said with a coy smile. “Just coming home to get ready for work.”

I
climbed out of bed and started gathering my clothes for the day from my closet.
Kevin stood frozen, like he didn’t know what to do. At least he wasn’t in a
hurry to leave like he was the last time.

LaLa
stood in the doorway, arms crossed, as she looked him up and down. She was so
protective, and I loved her for that, but it was unnecessary. I couldn’t wait
to fill her in later when he was gone.

“Oh,
Kevin,” I called out from my closet.

“Yeah?”
he asked, taking a step further away from LaLa’s menacing stare.

“I
have a favor to ask of you,” I said. “You can say no and I’ll completely
understand.”

“Okay,
shoot,” he said.

“Would
you be my date for Ayla’s wedding?” I scrunched my face and winced, waiting for
him to say no.

He
paused for a moment, deep in thought.

“I
know it’s weird, especially considering the circumstances,” I said. “But we’re
both in the same boat. I figured we could get through it together. I think we
could both use the closure.”

He
stared at the carpet before biting his lip and nodding. “I suppose you’re
right.”

“Is…
that going to be okay with Ayla?” LaLa interjected.

“Yes,”
I snipped at her. I turned towards Kevin to reassure him. “Julianne actually
told me to bring you.”

“Really?”
he asked, shocked.

“I
swear to God,” I said with my hand over my heart. “She said to bring the guy I
brought to the banquet.”

Kevin
chuckled as a split-second smile flashed on his face. “Okay.
Only
if you’re sure, though.
I don’t want my presence to ruin her day.”

“If
your presence ruins her day, then mine ruins Antoine’s,” I said. “We’re in the
same boat. Besides, Julianne set this up. Ayla said she’d do anything for
Julianne. We’re just making Julianne happy.”

“All
right. Anything for Julianne,” he said.

“Demarius
was invited,” LaLa interrupted. “I’m going with him. I’ll be there.”

“She
invited Demarius?” I repeated. “I’m shocked.”

“Why?
Because they dated in college?” LaLa snipped. “They ended things on good terms.
I think that says a lot, don’t you?”

Her
eyes swiftly traveled over to where Kevin was standing. I knew exactly what she
was hinting at, but I played dumb.

“Yeah,
that’s nice,” I replied. “A good sign. Okay, so the four of us can go together
then.”

“Sounds
good,” Kevin said with a casual shrug.

“Ayla
probably wants a huge guest list anyway,” I added. “She seems like that type.
Lots of gifts.
Lots of attention.”

Kevin
said nothing and LaLa rolled her eyes. They opted not to participate in my
trash-talking that morning.
Too early, perhaps?

He
placed his hand on my lower back and leaned in to kiss my cheek.

“I’d
better get going,” he said, pointing to his watch.

“Fine,”
I said. “Thanks for coming over last night.”

He
flashed me his ridiculously perfect, million
dollar
smile and excused himself past LaLa. The second I heard the door shut, I had to
fill her in.

“What
the hell?” LaLa said as she hit my shoulder. “What’s this all about?”

“I
went to bring him dinner last night,” I said. “And I ran into Antoine. Long
story short, I kissed Antoine. Kevin saw. I ran home. Kevin showed up. He
poured his heart out about Ayla. I poured my heart out about Antoine. Next
thing I know, he’s in my bed, can’t keep his hands off me. And now here we
are.”

“Okay,
I realize we’re short on time, but that was a really condensed version and I’m
going to need details,” LaLa said. I couldn’t help but notice the disapproving
look on her face.

“I’ll
give you details later tonight. I promise,” I said. “I have to get in the
shower.”

She
stood with one hand on her hip, shook her head, and then went back to her room.

I
knew she wouldn’t understand—not yet, anyway.

I
pranced around like a kid at Christmas the rest of the
morning
as I got ready. Waking up early had given me ample opportunity to flit around
like some silly little fairytale princess in love. I even had time to eat a
good breakfast and make sure my phone was charged before bolting out the door.

The
sun shone brightly as I walked to work with a little extra pep in my step, and
all I could think about was how perfect Kevin was. Things were turning around
for me again.

The
second Saturday in April came out of nowhere. Actually, that wasn’t true—I’d
had it circled on my work calendar ever since Julianne approached me about the
write up. Professionally, it was a huge deal. I’d already practiced writing a
rough outline and some catchy opening sentences. I wanted to prove to Julianne
that I could write more than standard wedding announcements.

I
made my way to the church around eleven that morning. The ceremony wasn’t until
one, but I was told Ayla and her ladies-in-waiting needed plenty of time to get
ready. They were going to take pictures before the ceremony, too.

The
cathedral was stunning. I’d never set foot in a church so beautiful and ornate
before. It was fit for royalty, and I made sure to note that on my notepad.
Ayla was pretty much royalty, at least in Harrisville.

An
insane amount of white floral arrangements rested on each and every table
around the church entryway. An unmarked guestbook laid wide open with a fancy,
silver pen, and a large silver box with Tiffany blue velvet lining sat
patiently waiting to be filled with cards and small gifts.

“Rashida!”
I felt a hand on my back. I spun around to face Julianne. “Here’s your press
pass, but I want you to know you’re still a guest. Don’t be shy. You can mingle
and celebrate, but also remember that you’re here for a reason.”

“Noted,”
I said with a smile.

“Ayla’s
getting ready in there,” she said as she pointed to a room just off to the side
of the congregation hall. “And Antoine’s getting ready back there.” She pointed
to a room behind the pulpit.

“Why
don’t you go interview them? I’ll send in the photographer as soon as he
arrives,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “You pay people perfectly good
money and they can’t even arrive on time.”

She
seemed like a typical, frazzled mother-of-the-bride. It was rare for Julianne
to ever lose her cool. I could only hope that Ayla wasn’t taking a page out of
Julianne’s book that day. Ayla always seemed calm and quiet, void of
personality, but still. I couldn’t imagine how bad she’d be as a bridezilla.

I
knocked on the door to the room Ayla was in and waited for one of her royal
minions to let me in. A chubby girl with curled, dark hair and way too much
makeup opened the door.

I
waived my press pass in her face.

“I’m
here to interview Ayla,” I told her.

“Is
that Rashida?” I heard Ayla’s voice call out. “Tell her to come in!”

I
walked in to see Ayla perched on a stool in front of a mirror. Her hairstylist
was frantically working every last dark strand of hers into its own perfect
place. The girl had so much hair.

Seeing
Ayla sitting there, stunningly beautiful, took my breath away. As much as I
hated to admit it, she was gorgeous. She was a stunner. She was the prettiest
bride I’d ever seen. On the inside, I steamed with jealousy, but on the
outside, I remembered that I had Kevin and we were both moving on.

I
stepped towards her, admiring the piece of art her hair was becoming. The
bodice of her dress was tight and cinched in her already tiny waist. The bottom
half of her dress squeezed in around her hips and then flared out around the
bottom, covered in a million delicate, ruffled white feathers. Only she could
pull something like that off.

“You
look beautiful, Ayla,” I said with a smile. “Happy wedding day.”

She
looked up at me and batted her fake-eyelash covered eyes. At first I thought
she was being facetious or dramatic, but then I realized she was batting away
tears. I wanted to ask if they were tears of joy or tears of sadness, but it
wouldn’t have been appropriate.

“Thanks
for coming today,” she said. “I want this article to be perfect, and Julianne
said you were the one to write it.”

I
suddenly wondered if it was her idea or Julianne’s idea to feature the wedding
in the Lifestyle weekly.

“No
problem,” I said. “So, I have a list of questions here that I’m going to ask
you both. And I’ll pepper your answers in throughout the article. It should all
make sense once I’m done with it.”

“Okay,”
she said as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She hadn’t taken her
eyes off herself more than a couple times since I’d arrived.

“When
did you first know you wanted to marry Antoine?” I read off the first question.

She
didn’t answer right away. In fact, she had to think about it. She pursed her
full lips and stared down at the bottom of her dress hanging just above the
floor.

“Um,”
she stammered, buying time. “I guess from the beginning I knew he was a special
guy. There was just something different about him.”

I
waited for her to elaborate, but that was it.

I
read off the second question. “How would you define the love between you and
Sam?”
 
A few days ago, asking her
those questions would have killed me, but after my night with Kevin, the
questions were cathartic in a roundabout way.

“Oh,
geez,” she said as she huffed. “That’s a tough one.”

There
really was nothing between those ears of her, I determined. She wasn’t even
good at bullshitting. How did she ever make it through college?

“I
would say it’s strong,” she said. “Solid. Dependable.”

Was
she talking about her relationship or a pickup truck?

I
read the third question. “Where do you see yourself five years from now?”

She
stared off to the side,
then
looked down. “With a
couple kids.
A nice house in the suburbs.
The All
American Dream, I guess.”

“What
do you love most about Antoine?” I asked, pen in hand. She wasn’t giving me
much to work with.

As
I waited for her response, I noticed her bottom lip start to quiver.

“Calliope,
can you excuse us for a second?” she whispered to her hairstylist. “Can you
take everyone outside for a minute? I need to talk to Rashida.”

Her
hairstylist said nothing as she faithfully ushered everyone out of the room. I
waited on pins and needles for Ayla to speak, but her emotions got the
best
of her first. The moment the room emptied, giant tears
started streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh,
my gosh
,” I said as I jumped up. I grabbed a tissue
and began carefully dabbing her cheeks. Never in a million years did I ever
think I’d be comforting Ayla Giovanni on her wedding day.

She
opened her mouth to speak, but nothing but a sob escaped.

“Shh,”
I tried calming her down. I rubbed her back, which was the softest yet boniest
thing I’d ever felt, and brushed her hair out of her face. “Talk to me.”

She
took several deep breaths as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Even
with tear-stained cheeks, she still looked drop dead beautiful.

“What
if I’m making a mistake?” she asked, looking at me through the mirror. “What if
marrying Antoine is a mistake?”

“But
you two seem so happy together,” I objected. I couldn’t believe I was talking
her into marrying my
ex,
the one I’d been secretly
pining after ever since I found out he was off the market.

“We
are,” she said. “He makes me happy. I just don’t know if he’s the one for me.”

“He
seems like a great guy,” I said. “I think he’d be an awesome father and
husband. He’s very loyal.”

She
laughed and dabbed her eyes. “You’re kind to say that, but you don’t even know
him. You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

I
wanted to tell her I knew him better than she did, but I zipped my lips.

“Besides,”
she said. “I think he’s in love with someone else.”

My
heart fell to my stomach with those words.

“Like
he’s cheating on you?” I pried. I knew it was none of my business, but this I
had to know.

“No,”
she said. “We spend every waking hour together. I know he’s not cheating. I
just feel like sometimes he’s thinking about someone else. I can’t explain it.
Maybe it’s just me being insecure?”

“Has
he ever mentioned this other person before?” I pried some more.

“No.
Never,” she said, quashing my selfish quest for more information. “I just get
the feeling. I can tell he’s been hurt before.
Pretty badly.
I just think that sort of thing stays with you, you know?”

If
Ayla dumped Antoine on their wedding day, it would rip him apart. It would
probably hurt him a million times worse than when I dumped him the year before.
I couldn’t let him go through that again. I loved him too much to see him get
hurt like that a second time.

“You’re
just getting cold feet,” I said as I patted her back. “Everyone gets cold
feet.”

She
dabbed her eyes another time and touched up her makeup.

“I’ve
been feeling this way for a while,” she admitted. “I guess I was too afraid to
admit it. I couldn’t even admit it to myself. Then you started asking me those
questions. My answers… I knew they weren’t coming from my heart.”

There
was my chance. There was my chance to break them up and to snatch Antoine back
up for good. He could’ve been all mine. He would’ve been a wounded little bird
and I could’ve saved him. But it wouldn’t have been right.