Can't Let Go - A Contemporary BWWM Romance (19 page)

“Ayla,”
I said. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re just stressed. Nervous. Anxious. Antoine’s
a great guy. I’ve seen how you two are around each other. That’s love.”

“You
really think so?” she asked.

“I
know so,” I said.

“I
guess there’s always divorce, right?” she laughed. “Nothing’s truly forever.”

I
thought about how hard it would be on Antoine to marry her and then find out
months down road that she never wanted to marry him in the first place. I
couldn’t let her make a fool out of him.

“Ayla,”
I said as I placed both hands on her shoulders. “Only marry him if it’s what
you really want to do. Don’t marry him if you think you’re just going to
divorce him. People will understand if you call the wedding off.”

“Knock,
knock,” called a
sing-song
voice that could only
belong to Julianne. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important. I saw
you kicked everyone out.”

“We
were just having some girl talk, Mom,” Ayla said, slapping a smile on her face.
She went from zero to sixty just like that. She was a professional at putting
on a good face, which only made sense since she worked on television.

Julianne
stood proudly in front of Ayla, taking her in.

“You
look absolutely radiant, my love,” she said as she brushed a hand over Ayla’s
cheek. “You’re the most beautiful bride in the entire world.”

Ayla
rested her hand on top of her stepmother’s.

“Thanks,”
she said, gazing up at her.

“I
only wish your mom was here to see this,” Julianne said. “But I know she’s
looking down on you, taking in everything. She’d be so proud.”

“Stop,”
Ayla said. “You’re going to make me cry.”

I
never realized that Ayla’s mom had passed away. Now it made perfect sense why
she and Julianne were so close. It was a rather sweet bond they had, I had to
admit. I just wished Ayla could be honest with her about her reservations.
Julianne was such a great sounding board, and I knew she’d put any of Ayla’s
issues to rest if she had the chance.

“So
anyway,” Julianne said. “I just went and talked to Antoine. Oh, Ayla, you
should see him. He’s just beaming so proudly, ear to ear. He’s so happy. He’s
so excited to marry you. He even got a little misty when we talked.”

“Really?”
Ayla asked, as if it had suddenly shifted her back towards wanting to marry
him.

“See,”
I said. “I told you he’s going to make a great husband. He loves you so much.”

“Rashida,”
Julianne said as she looked at her watch. “It’s almost time for pictures. Can
you run in and get a quick interview with Antoine? We’ve got to get this show
on the road!”

I
glanced over at Ayla and raised my eyebrows. If she was going to back out, then
was her chance. I lingered for a bit, waiting for her to say something.

“What
are you waiting for?” Ayla said excitedly. “Go talk to him!”

I
knew she was just trying to make Julianne happy, but as I walked away, I wanted
to get sick. While I walked towards Antoine’s room, I couldn’t help but feel
like I was going to inadvertently spill the beans. It was going to be on the
tip of my tongue and I knew it.

“Antoine?”
I called as I rapped lightly on his door.

I
waited patiently for him to respond before letting myself in. I was sure at
this hour he’d be dressed and ready.

He
spun around, his face falling the moment he saw me. He didn’t look too happy to
see me.

“Rashida,”
he said. “What are you doing in here?”

I
held up the press card that hung around my neck. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to
stop your wedding. I’m here to interview you for the article.”

“What
article?” he asked, his nose scrunched.

“Didn’t
Ayla tell you? They’re featuring your wedding in the Lifestyle weekly,” I said.
“Julianne asked me to cover it.”

“Well
isn’t that nice,” he said.

It
was the first time we’d seen each other or spoken since I’d kissed him. I tried
to force that moment into the back of my mind, but I just couldn’t let it sit
and fester any longer.

“I’m
sorry about the last time I saw you,” I said. “I don’t know what came over me.
I shouldn’t have done that.”

His
face softened a bit. He loosened his bow tie and took a gulp of air before
sitting down on the edge of a seat.

“I’m
just glad Ayla didn’t see anything,” he said. “She would never have
understood.”

I
whipped out my pen and paper and proceeded to get down to business.

“These
are the same questions I asked Ayla,” I said. “I’m going to work them into the
article.”

“Okay,”
he said, his hands resting on his knees as he leaned forward towards me. He was
fully engaged and ready to talk about his future wife.

I
rattled off the first one. “When did you first know you wanted to marry Ayla?”
For some reason, it was a million times harder to ask Antoine that question
than Ayla.

His
face lit up before he answered, and there was no hesitation in his response.
“Pretty much from day one. After our first date, I just remember coming home
and I couldn’t get her out of my head. It was the happiest I’d been in a very
long time.”

His
answer was like a dagger through my heart, but I knew I needed to hear it. I
reminded myself that within the hour, I’d be able to meet up with Kevin. Kevin
made everything better. Being around him magically made Antoine a non-issue for
me.

“Define
the love between you and Ayla,” I said.

“Sincere,”
he started. “Genuine. Unfaltering. Unconditional.”

I
couldn’t help but wonder if his answers were passive aggressive jabs at me, but
I refused to let my mind go there. I was working. I had to be professional.

“Last
question: where do you see yourselves in five years?” I asked.

“We’ll
have at least two kids, maybe move to the Midwest. We’ll live in a beautiful
house that she designed in a nice little suburb. We’ll have a dog and maybe a
cat, and we’ll spend our summer nights at Little League games and drive-in
movies.” He said it all with a cheesy grin on his face as he stared off. He’d
obviously thought about that before. He could hardly contain his excitement.

I
thought about Ayla and how she was the complete opposite of Antoine just a few
minutes ago. She was
doubting
herself, doubting their
love, and doubting if her marriage to him would even last. Who brings up
divorce on their wedding day? I quietly started fuming on the inside. Seeing
Antoine so happy killed me, but I didn’t want to see him get hurt again.

“What’s
wrong?” he asked me, his head cocked to the side. “You’re breathing really
hard.”

He
probably thought it was about him and me.
If he only knew.

“Antoine,”
I said, putting down my pen and paper. “Can I talk to you? Off record?”

“Um,
sure,” he said with a slight hesitation.

“Do
you think you’re making the right decision?” I couldn’t believe I was asking
him that.

He
scrunched his face. “Of course.”

I
stood up and let my arms fall to my sides. I hung my head and zipped my lips
before anything else suddenly came out of them.

“Just
making sure,” I muttered before slipping out the door.

I
exited his room with the worst feeling in the pit of my stomach. They were
doomed, I knew it, and there was not a damn thing I could do about it. My eyes
scanned the congregation hall as people were beginning to file in and take
their seats. It took me a bit, but I finally found Kevin, who was conveniently
seated next to Demarius and LaLa.

I
yanked the press card from around my neck, shoved it in my purse, and scooted
in next to them.

“How’d
the interviews go?” LaLa asked.

I
bit my lip and shook my head.

“What
the hell does that mean?” she asked.

Kevin
suddenly turned towards me and leaned in. “Yeah, what’s that mean?”

“I
can’t say anything,” I said. “Not here. Not now.”

Kevin’s
eyes widened. “You have to tell us.”

I
looked up at Demarius who was in
his own
little world.
He could’ve given two shits about Ayla and Antoine, and I loved that about him.
LaLa was lucky.

“I
just think one of the two of them are having reservations,” I said. “I’ll tell
you guys later. Doesn’t matter now anyway. Wedding’s about to start.”

I
tried to wave them off, but Kevin seemed a little unsettled. I figured after
our heart to heart that he was moving on from Ayla just as I’d agreed to move
on from Antoine, but now I was
second guessing
everything.

The
pews filled more and more with each passing minute as organ music began to lilt
through the air. We couldn’t have talked if we wanted to. The ceremony was in
full force.