Can't Let Go - A Contemporary BWWM Romance (21 page)

“I’m
so fired on Monday,” I lamented to LaLa the moment we got home. For once LaLa
went home with me instead of going to Demarius’s, which was good because I
really needed her.

LaLa
shrugged. “I don’t think they can fire you for something like that.”

“Julianne
loved Antoine,” I said. “Loved him. My date caused a ruckus which lead to Ayla
not marrying Antoine. I’m at fault here. Everything can be traced directly back
to me.”

“No,
you’re not,” LaLa laughed. “I told you that back at the wedding. How were you
supposed to know Kevin was going to do that? And that Ayla was going to run off
with him like that?”

“So
maybe it wasn’t directly my fault, but in a roundabout way it was,” I said.

“Okay,
Rashida,” LaLa said with an annoyed tone. “If it makes you feel better to know
you had a hand on Antoine and Ayla not getting married, then by all means, take
on that blame.”

“Speaking
of Antoine,” I said. “I should probably give him a call. I wonder if he’ll even
talk to me. I wonder if he blames me for this.”

“You’ll
never know unless you talk to him,” LaLa said with raised eyebrows. “I thought
you were moving on from Antoine anyway. I thought you’d accepted the fact that
you and him weren’t ever going to be an item again.”

“That
was before,” I said. “That was when I had Kevin and all his bullshit lies and
excuses. That was when I thought Antoine was getting married. I was fully
prepared to move on. And I was moving on.”

LaLa
sighed. I knew she was sick of talking about Antoine. As much as I’d obsessed
over him and talked about him over the last year, you’d have thought he was the
one that dumped me.

“I
think you still love Antoine,” she said.

“Duh,”
I replied. “I’ll always love him.”

“No,
like I think you truly love him,” she said. “I think you should try to be with
him one more time.”

“He’d
never be with me again,” I said as I shook my head. “He hates me. I crushed him
like a bug. And then I ruined his happily ever after.”

“Maybe
this whole entire thing with Antoine and Kevin and Ayla…maybe this was the
universe’s way of showing you that you should be with Antoine?” LaLa proposed.
She always loved to talk about the bigger picture while I’d waste my time
focusing on the smaller details.

“Maybe,”
I said as I tried to wrap my head around it.

“Like
you didn’t care about Antoine until you knew he was off the market and then you
wanted him back,” she elaborated. She climbed on the edge of the couch cushion
as if she’d just had
a eureka
moment. “Suddenly you’re
seeing all of his redeeming qualities again. The things that made you fall in
love with him in the first place. Suddenly you’re back to seeing him for who he
really is.”

“I
could see that.” I bit at my lip and wondered if Antoine still had an ounce of
feelings left for me.

“Antoine
was an amazing boyfriend to you,” LaLa said point-blank. “He put up with a lot
of your shit. Not a lot of guys would do that.”

“You’re
right,” I replied. I both loved and hated it when she was right, which was most
of the time.

“Why
don’t you call him up?” she asked. “Enough sitting around talking about him.
Call him. Check on him. Make sure he’s okay.”

I
wondered what he was up to in that moment. It was nearly nine in the evening.
The fiasco at the church ended long before. We all should’ve been at his
reception, drinking and dancing and celebrating. I imagined poor Antoine
sitting alone in his apartment, drinking beer and flipping through pictures of
the two of them. He always was the sentimental kind.

I
picked up my phone, hands trembling, and pulled up his contact information.

“I
don’t know why I’m so nervous,” I said to LaLa, locking eyes with her from
across the room. “I’ve never been this way with him before.”

“Because
you love him. Duh,” she said. She was smiling like some junior high kid
watching her best friend call a boy.

I
pressed his name on my screen, and within seconds, it was ringing.

“He
probably won’t even answer,” I sighed. Deep down I almost didn’t want him to.
If he saw I had called him, the ball would be in his court. If he didn’t call
me back, I’d know that I’d blown it with him for good.

“Hello?”
he answered.

My
mouth instantly went dry and a lump formed in my throat. My eyes went wide as I
stared at a giggling LaLa.

“Hello?”
he said again.

“Antoine.”
I finally managed to spit out the words. “Hi.”

“Yes,”
he said. “What do you need?”

He
didn’t exactly seem receptive to talking to me, but the fact that he answered
my call was a step in the right direction.

“I,
um, just wanted to see if you were doing okay,” I said.

The
other end was silent, and then I heard him breathe loudly into the phone.

“Are
you by yourself?” I asked.

“Yes,”
he replied.

“Want
some company?” I asked.

He
was quiet again.

“I’ll
understand if you don’t want any company,” I said. “Or if you don’t want to be
around me.”

He
was still quiet.

“Where
are you, by the way?” I asked. I knew he wouldn’t be at his and Ayla’s
apartment. That would just be too weird.

“I’m
at Joe’s,” he said. Joe was his younger brother who lived across town.

“Joe’s
not with you?” I asked, not that it was any of my business.

“I
told him I wanted to be alone,” Antoine said. His voice was flat, but he was
still on the line with
me which
was a good sign.

“Oh,
I see,” I replied. “Well if you decide later that you want someone to talk to,
you’re more than welcome to come over to my place. You know where I live.”

I
listened as Antoine took a deep breath on the other end. I couldn’t tell if he
was thinking about it or if he was appalled at the audacity of my offer.

“Okay,
well, I’ll let you go now,” I said, growing irrationally annoyed at his lack of
words. I should’ve had more sympathy for him and what he’d just been through.
“You know how to get a hold of me.”

I
waited for him to say something, anything, but he said nothing. I hung up.

“That
was weird,” I said to LaLa as I scrunched my face. “He doesn’t want to talk to
me. It’s pretty obvious.”

“He’ll
come around,” she insisted. “And if not, well, you know now that you’re
perfectly capable of moving on.”

“Do
you care if I go to Demarius’s?” LaLa asked me after I hung up with Antoine. “I
can stay if you want me to.”

The
eagerness on her face told me that I couldn’t keep her to myself. I couldn’t
keep her from spending all of her time with Demarius. He was a good guy.

“You
can go,” I said with a teasing lament.

“You
sure?” she asked as she winced. “I’m serious. I’ll stay if you need me to.”

“I’ll
be fine,” I assured her. “Honest.”

“What
are you going to do?” she asked.

I
glanced at the clock on my phone and threw it back down on the side table as I
shrugged my shoulders.

“Probably
go to bed soon,” I said. “If you really want to know.”

“Today
was a shitty day,” LaLa said. She stood up and placed one hand gently on my
shoulder as she walked by. “You did good though. I’m proud of you.”

I
laughed. “Proud of me for what?”

“Standing
up to Kevin. Calling Antoine. Not being a blubbering pile of melted goo all day
long,” she said. “You had a double whammy today. You hung in there.”

“Thanks,”
I said as I placed my hand over hers.

She
slipped away and headed down the hall to her room to get ready. She and Demarius
were pretty much inseparable, and as much as I missed her company, I was happy
for her. She’d dated a lot of duds. She deserved to date a nice guy for a
change.

I
took LaLa’s spot on the couch and covered my feet with a throw blanket.

“Okay,
I’m out of here,” LaLa said as she walked down the hall and past the living
room where I was busy
channel
surfing. A cloud of
hairspray and perfume filled the space around her, and I noticed her makeup had
been touched up. She’d been wearing a lot more makeup lately since she’d been
with Demarius. It was cute.

“Have
fun,” I called out.

“Call
me if you need me,” she replied as she rushed out the door.

I
was back to being alone.
Just me, myself, and I.
If
things had gone the way they were supposed to go, I’d have been dancing my
tired little feet off at Antoine and Ayla’s wedding in the arms of the gorgeous
Kevin Harris. I’d be dreaming of my future with Kevin instead of obsessing over
Antoine’s future with Ayla. I’d have gotten the closure I needed to fully move
on from Antoine, and everything would’ve been peachy keen.

My
eyelids grew heavy as I sat in the darkness of my living room in front of the
glow of the T.V. Some late night reality rerun flashed across the screen, but I
really wasn’t paying much attention.

As
soon as my eyes had closed and I was mere seconds away from dreamland, I heard
a knock at the door. I jumped up to my feet, startled, and tiptoed towards the
peephole. It had to have been past ten, and part of me wondered if it was Kevin
coming back to tell me he’d made a mistake and that Ayla really was a
self-centered monster
who
only cared about herself.

I
vowed I wouldn’t fall for his antics again. If it was
him
on the other side of the door, I was going to tell him off like I’d never told
anyone off before. He was going to hear it from me. I was going to give him a
piece of my mind.

I
stood on my toes and peered through the tiny hole in the door. It was Antoine.
I smoothed my hair back and re-did my ponytail, checked my breath, and opened
the door.

“Hi,
Antoine,” I said with a coy smile. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

His
eyes looked worn and tired and he was packing some major bags under them. He’d
clearly been crying.

“Come
in, come in,” I said as I got out of the way. “Have a seat.”

He
took a seat in the
arm chair
closest to the door. His
body was rigid and tense, and I could see him clenching his jaw.

“You
okay, Antoine?” I asked. “Want something to drink? Beer? Wine? Water?”

He
glanced up at me with the saddest eyes I’d ever seen and said nothing. It
didn’t seem like he knew what to say or where to begin, or maybe he just didn’t
have the energy to talk.

“Beer
it is,” I said as I scampered off to the kitchen to grab the last of the pale
ale. “Here you go.”

Antoine
took the cold, uncapped bottle from my hand and chugged it all in one go.

I
took a seat across from him on the
sofa,
hands folded
in my lap, and waited for him to speak. He looked so sweet sitting there like
some brokenhearted little bird. I just wanted to hold him in my arms and tell
him everything was going to be okay. I knew he deserved better than Ayla, but I
had no idea how I could convince him of that.

“God,
what a royal fuck up today was,” he said as he finally broke the silence.

“I
know, right?” I replied.

“What
were you trying to tell me earlier today?” he asked. His eyes honed in on mine,
and I couldn’t escape the intensity of his gaze even if I tried. “When you
asked me something off the record?”

“Um,”
I stammered. “I was just asking if you thought you were making the right
decision.”

“Yeah,
that,” he said. “Why’d you ask that?”

I
hesitated.

“Did
you know something I didn’t know?” he asked. “Did you know about Kevin and
Ayla?”

“Oh,
God, no, Antoine,” I said as I placed my hand out. “I knew nothing. It was just
as shocking for me as it was for you. I mean
,
I knew
they had dated, but I didn’t know they still had feelings for each other. I
didn’t know he was going to stand up and object to your marriage.”

Antoine’s
shoulders shrunk as he slumped down in the chair.

“People
like Kevin and Ayla,” I said. “They’re users. They used us, Antoine. We deserve
better than that because we are not those kinds of people.”

Antoine
looked back up at me as he listened intently.

“You
especially. You are one of the most genuine people I’ve ever known,” I said.

“What
did Ayla say when you asked her those interview questions,” he asked. He was
apparently still stuck on her.

“Oh,
um, well…” I hesitated. “Do you want the truth?”

He
nodded.

“She
had a hard time answering them, Antoine,” I said as I cringed. I waited for his
tears to start falling, but they never came. “She actually kicked everyone out
of the room and asked me if she was making a mistake. She said she could always
divorce you if she was making the wrong decision.”

His
face twisted into an appalled, sickened reaction.

“And
what did you say?” he asked.

“I
didn’t really have a chance to respond. Her mom came busting through the door
talking about how happy you were,” I said.

“Huh,”
Antoine said as he stared down at the carpet. “How about that for timing.”

“So
when you asked me off record if I thought I was making the right decision, you
were really just referring to the fact that Ayla didn’t want to marry me,” he
added.

“I
guess,” I replied.

“It
had nothing to do with you still having feelings for me or anything?” He
glanced over at me with questioning eyes, and I saw a completely different side
of him emerge. “I guess as much as you’ve been bumping into me the last few
months, I didn’t know if you were trying to pull something.”

I
didn’t know what to say. I opened my mouth, but no response came out.

“That’s
what I thought,” he said. He hardly gave me enough time to even think about my
answer.

“Can
I be totally honest with you?” I said. “When I found out you were engaged to
Ayla Giovanni and so soon after our relationship ended, something in me
changed. Something in me woke up.”

“Why?”
he asked. “Because you always want what you don’t have?”

“No,”
I said. “Maybe. I don’t know. I guess it made me look at you in a different
light. That and I always thought we’d end up together.”

“Me
too,” he said. His face was all sorts of pissed off, and I couldn’t tell what
exactly he was upset about.

When
I looked over at Antoine, I no longer saw his sloped wrestler shoulders or his
flaky scalp or his thinning, mousy brown hair. I no longer saw his
imperfect smile
or that his ears stuck out just a little too
much.

Maybe
I had grown up in that past year. Maybe I’d finally started to realize that
people’s insides and outsides don’t always tend to match.

“It’s
not too late,” I said to Antoine.

“Not
too late for what?” he huffed.

“For
us to see if we can make this work again,” I proposed. “You’re single. I’m
single. We had something good once. We can get it again, right?”