3. Dream
S itting on the new beige suede couch in my mama’s living room, I felt like my chest had been cracked open and left raw. The smell of coffee lingered in the air, but I couldn’t bring myself to sip mine. Mama sat across from me, her face worn with sleepless nights and too many tears. Her voice broke the silence, soft but heavy.
“There’s a medicine, Imani,” she started, her fingers twisting the edge of her sweater. “It’ll put him to rest like he wants. Peacefully.”
I blinked at her, irritated. “Not this again, Mama.”
She sighed, her eyes glistening. “Please listen, Imani. He’s tired, baby. He told me again last night he doesn’t want to fight anymore. The chemo… it’s too much for him. He just wants to go.”
The words hit me like a brick in the chest. My throat dried as I stared at her, hoping I’d heard wrong. “And you’re okay with that? Just letting him—” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.
Mama nodded, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her pain. “I’m not okay with it, but I’m tired of seeing my boy suffer. His body is worn out, Imani. He’s got a right to decide when enough is enough.”
I shook my head, my vision blurring. “So, what now? We just… watch him die?”
She reached for my hand, her grip firm. “The doctor told me about a procedure. It’s something we can do at home. It’s peaceful, but it’s expensive. Thousands, Imani, but cheaper than months and years of chemo.”
The number didn’t even matter. My baby brother, my heart, was slipping away, and there was nothing I could do.
“I’ll pay for it,” I said, my voice cracking. “Whatever it costs, I’ll cover it.”
Her face softened, and for the first time in days, I saw a flicker of relief in her eyes.
After a while, I stood and went to my brother’s room. The sight of him broke me. He was sprawled on the bed in red thermo pajamas, his once-strong frame now frail and shadowed. His breaths were shallow, his skin dry. The pain medicine had him so out of it that he didn’t even stir when I knelt beside him.
I took his hand, my voice trembling as I whispered, “God, if this is what he wants, help me accept it. But please, make it easier because I’m not ready to let go.”
I kissed his forehead, my tears soaking onto his bald head. Then, I pulled myself together, handed Mama a few hundred dollars to get started, and left. With everything going on with my brother, I still had to live my life…
$$$$$
Back at Damier’s penthouse, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, dabbing concealer under my eyes to hide the evidence of my tears. My hands shook as I brushed out my silk press. I couldn’t afford to look like I’d just been through hell—not today. It was Saturday, so Mrs. Knight had invited me to brunch, and while I didn’t know what kind of event it was, I knew I had to look my best.
I slipped into a brown silk wrap dress that hugged my curves in all the right places and paired it with gold YSL heels. With one last swipe of nude MAC lipglass, I grabbed my clutch purse and headed out the door.
When I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant in Beverly Hills, Mrs. Knight was already there, waiting for me next to her 7-series Mercedes. She looked as poised and regal as ever in her Versace shades, her tailored suit and diamond earrings practically screaming money and power.
“Dream, you look stunning. Thank you for coming,” she greeted me with a nod, her tone cordial but not warm.
“Thank you, Mrs. Knight. So do you. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” I replied, forcing a polite smile.
She studied me for a moment, her eyes sharp and calculating.
“Dream, I want to like you. I do. That’s why I brought you out with me to get a good feel of you. You seem sweet, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. But my family has been through hell watching Damier deal with broken relationships. Divorces, betrayals… you name it. I don’t want that for him again. He loves hard and easily, like his father. I’ve seen it in him as a kid. So, I try to protect his heart with my life.”
Her words stung, but I held my ground. “Mrs. Knight, I’m not like the others. I love Damier for who he is, not what he has. Even if that baby turns out to really be his, I’m staying. And I know what his position in the family means. I’m willing to take that risk because he’s worth it.”
She studied me for a moment before a faint smirk tugged at her lips. “My son really likes you, and we don’t need another timid woman in our family. I’m going to believe you are the woman you say you are. But, before we go inside, there’s something you need to know.”
I frowned, my stomach twisting. “What is it?”
She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a low, serious tone. “The women inside are married to powerful and dangerous men. Billionaires who work with and for Damier. This isn’t just a brunch, Dream. It’s a gathering of women who live in a world most people can’t even imagine. They’ll sense if you are tense or unsure, so whatever emotions you are feeling, leave them here in this parking lot.”
I straightened my shoulders, meeting her gaze head-on. “You don’t have to worry about me, Mrs. Knight. I can handle myself.”
Her lips curved into a faint smile. “Alright then. Let’s see how you fit into our environment.”
The restaurant was stunning, with high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. The brunch spread was lavish, with everything from smoked salmon and caviar to fresh fruit and pastries.
As we walked into the private dining room, I felt the weight of a dozen eyes on me. The women were dressed impeccably, their designer outfits and flawless makeup putting most runway models to shame. I recognized one face immediately: Chanel, who greeted me warmly with a hug. We’d bonded during the Jamaica trip, and her presence was a small comfort in the sea of strangers.
“Ladies, this is Dream,” Mrs. Knight announced, her voice carrying over the soft hum of conversation. “She’s with Damier now.”
There was a murmur of interest as the women looked me over, their gazes assessing. One of them, a tall woman with blonde hair and piercing hazel eyes, smiled warmly.
“Love your hair,” she said. “It’s so natural. Definitely Damier’s type.”
I smiled politely, thanking her, but before I could say more, another woman, bolder than the rest, leaned forward with a smirk.
“So, Dream,” she said, her tone dripping with curiosity. “Are you really ready for this life? Because the last women… well, let’s just say they weren’t.”
I met her gaze without hesitation, my confidence unwavering. “I’m not the last women,” I said, my tone calm but cocky. “I know how to handle a man like Damier. I’m not here for the lifestyle; I’m here for him. That’s why I’ll last.”
The room fell silent for a moment before the bold woman leaned back, a sly smile spreading across her lips. “I like her,” she said, her voice carrying a note of approval.
The tension eased, and the women started chatting again, their attention no longer focused solely on me.
As the brunch continued, I found myself relaxing, even laughing at some of the stories the women shared. Mrs. Knight was a natural hostess, her presence commanding and elegant as she moved through the room.
But even as I enjoyed myself, my mind kept drifting to Damier. It had been days since I’d seen him, and the ache of his absence was becoming harder to ignore.
As the brunch wound down, I stood near the entrance with Chanel, exchanging light conversation while the other women gathered their coats and handbags. The sun streamed through the restaurant’s windows, casting golden light over the lavish space. Despite the heavy morning I’d had, I felt lighter, as if I’d just taken a big step into Damier’s world and held my own.
Mrs. Knight caught my eye from across the room and gave me a slight nod, her posture poised and commanding as always. As the women began to file out, she walked over to me, her heels clicking softly against the polished floors.
“Dream,” she said, motioning for me to follow her to the side, away from the others.
I followed her, my heart skipping a beat as I braced for whatever she was about to say. Once we were out of earshot, she turned to me, her expression softer than it had been earlier.
“I owe you an apology,” she began, her tone measured but sincere. “For the way I came at you in the parking lot. I’ve been overly protective of my son, and maybe that made me come off harsher than I intended.”
I blinked, surprised by the admission. “Mrs. Knight, I understand. You’re just looking out for Damier. I can’t fault you for that.”
She nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I see now that you’re different, Dream. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and you mean what you say. I’m going to trust that you’re sincere about your feelings for my son.”
Hearing her say it felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest. “Thank you,” I softly said. “That means a lot to me.”
Her expression shifted, and she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “I also wanted to let you know… I briefly spoke to Damier earlier today. He’s fine, and he should be back in a few more days. Maybe even less. I haven’t told him about the baby yet, but we will address it when he’s home. I’m sure he will come to see me first, so I will explain everything to him.”
Relief washed over me, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “He’s okay?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I heard everything she said about the baby, but my concern was Damier.
She nodded. “Yes, he’s okay. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Thank you,” I said again, my voice steadier this time. The idea of seeing him soon, of knowing he was safe, gave me something to hold onto.
Mrs. Knight straightened, her regal demeanor returning. “Take care, Dream. I’ll see you again soon, I’m sure.”
I nodded, watching as she turned and left with the last of the women. For a moment, I stood there alone, letting the relief sink in. Damier was okay. He’d be back soon. That was all I needed to hear.
Instead of heading to the penthouse, I found myself driving back to my mama’s house. The weight of the morning had crept back into my eyes, and I didn’t want to be alone. When I walked in, the house was quiet, the air heavy with the same somber stillness it always seemed to hold these days.
I slipped into my brother’s room and found him lying in bed, his breathing soft and even. His face was peaceful, and for the first time in weeks, he didn’t look like he was in pain. I eased onto the bed beside him, careful not to wake him.
“I’m here,” I whispered. “I’m here, baby brother.”
Lying there in the quiet, I let myself just be. The exhaustion of the day caught up with me, and I felt my eyes grow heavy. Whatever came tomorrow, I’d face it. For now, being there with him was enough.