Greystone City
Two weeks later…
It had been two and a half months since that whole situation with Renza, but I was still with Couture.
For a minute after everything happened, I ain’t know if me and Couture was gon’ make it through that shit.
He never came out and blamed me for what happened, but I could feel the questions he had every time he looked at me too long.
He still ain’t know who Renza was, why he chose him or how the hell he knew exactly where to leave him.
All he knew was they came into his apartment, put guns in his face, tied him up and dropped him in front of my mama house like somebody was sendin’ me a message.
That was exactly what Renza had done I couldn’t admit it.
Couture could’ve been killed ‘cause of the mess I created. I had cheated on him more than once with a man he ain’t even know existed, and every time I chose to go back around Renza, I put Couture closer to danger without givin’ him the chance to protect himself from it.
He had been lovin’ me with no idea that somebody on an island felt entitled enough to me to snatch him from his own home.
I thought about tellin’ Couture the truth more times than I could count.
Then I would picture the look on his face once he realized everything I had hidden from him, and I would lose my nerve.
It wasn’t only the cheatin’. I would have to explain why Renza believed he had that much claim over me, why he knew Couture’s address and how I had spent a whole week inside an Airbnb with him while Couture was out of town workin’.
There wasn’t no clean way to tell that story.
For the first couple weeks after what happened, Couture stayed a lil’ distant. He still answered when I called and let me come around, but some part of him had pulled back while he tried to get himself together.
I never pushed him to talk before he was ready.
I stayed close without crowdin’ him. When he got quiet, I sat beside him instead of askin’ him the same question over and over.
If he woke up in the middle of the night, I ain’t pretend not to notice.
I would move closer, rub my hand over his chest and let him know I was there without makin’ him explain what pulled him out of his sleep.
Eventually, Couture started comin’ back to himself.
He ain’t forget what happened, but he refused to let it take over his life.
He still lived in the same apartment, drove the same car and moved around Greystone without lookin’ over his shoulder every five seconds.
The gun stayed nearby, but he stopped carryin’ the fear around where everybody could see it.
Couture had too much pride to give two masked men the satisfaction of changin’ who he was.
As the weeks passed, me and him found our way back into the rhythm we had before.
I spent more nights at his apartment, and he spent more time around my mama and grandma.
He helped my mama move some furniture she had been complainin’ about for months, sat with my grandma while she told the same story three times and never once acted like he was tired of hearin’ it.
I spent more time with his family too. His mama, Ms. Ermoree, had become even more comfortable with me.
She included me in plans, made sure I had a plate when everybody ate and started lookin’ toward me whenever Couture did somethin’ she thought needed correctin’.
I liked bein’ around Justice too. Every time he saw me, his whole face changed, and that lil’ reaction had attached itself to my heart before I realized it was happenin’.
Couture had started bringin’ me deeper into the parts of his life that mattered to him. I met more of his aunts and uncles, learned which relatives he was close to and heard enough old family stories to know who was still mad at who over shit that happened before we was born.
He came into my life the same way. My mama liked him, my grandma trusted him and even the people who usually had somethin’ slick to say about everybody had started acceptin’ that he wasn’t goin’ nowhere. That was why today mattered.
Couture’s family reunion had been planned for months, and Couture had been talkin’ about me goin’ with him since before everything happened.
His grandparents was gon’ be there, along with cousins and other relatives I had only heard about.
It was another step into his world, and I knew he wouldn’t have asked me to come if he wasn’t serious about where we was headed.
I woke up with his arm wrapped around my waist and his body pressed against my back. The room was still dim, and neither one of us had moved. I laid here for a minute listenin’ to him breathe while his hand rested on my hip.
Couture shifted closer and rubbed his palm over my side. His mouth moved near my ear, and a low moan left him before he pressed a kiss against the back of my neck.
“You still on yo’ period?” He asked, his voice rough from sleep while his fingers moved over my hip.
I smiled into the pillow ‘cause I already knew that question had been sittin’ on his mind. “I got two more days.”
“Damn,” he mumbled before kissin’ my neck again. “Every time you get on that shit, it feel like a long ass jail sentence for me.”
I laughed and turned my head enough to look back at him. “You act like you been locked up for years. It ain’t even been a whole week.”
“It feel like years,” he replied as he tightened his arm around me. “They need to figure out how to cut that down to two business days.”
I shook my head and pulled away before he could keep goin’. “Come on. We gotta get up if we don’t wanna be late.”
Couture groaned and fell on his back while I climbed out of bed. “They can wait. I’m one of the people they havin’ the reunion for.”
“That is not how no damn family reunion work,” I told him as I reached for my robe.
Couture watched me tie it around my waist before pushin’ himself up. “You sure you got two more days?”
“Yes, Couture,” I answered while walkin’ toward the bathroom. “And ask me again, you gon’ have three.”
He laughed as he got out of bed and followed behind me.
We stood next to each other at the sink while we brushed our teeth. Couture kept bumpin’ his hip into mine for no reason, and every time I looked over, he acted like he ain’t do nothin’. By the time I rinsed my mouth, he had one arm around my waist and was pullin’ me against him.
He turned me around and rested both hands on my waist while he looked down at me. His face had softened into the same expression he always wore when he was about to say somethin’ serious.
“I love you,” Couture told me. “You know that, right?”
I held his eyes and nodded before answerin’. “I know. I love you too.”
The words came out the way they was supposed to, but somethin’ inside me hesitated before they reached my mouth. It wasn’t enough for Couture to notice. He smiled, kissed my forehead and went back to washin’ his face while I stood here tryin’ not to think too hard about what that small pause meant.
I did love Couture. That wasn’t a lie. He had become part of my everyday life, and I cared about his happiness, his family and everything he wanted for his future.
I loved how peaceful it felt when we laid together and how he knew when to give me space without disappearin’ from me.
I loved the way he made room for me instead of tellin’ me where I was supposed to fit.
Still, there was some part of me that never settled all the way.
I ain’t let myself name it ‘cause I already knew whose face would come with the answer.
Once we finished in the bathroom, Couture went to shower while I headed to the kitchen.
We was goin’ somewhere with enough food to feed half of Greystone, but I still wanted us to eat somethin’ light before we left.
Family reunions always started later than everybody claimed, and I wasn’t standin’ around hungry while people argued over who forgot the ice.
I made eggs, turkey sausage and toast, then cut up some fruit and put it in a bowl between our plates.
Couture came in the kitchen dressed in a pair of shorts and a white undershirt while he rubbed a towel over his head.
“You cookin’ when we finna go eat?” Couture asked as he sat at the table.
“I ain’t cookin’ no full meal,” I replied while slidin’ his plate toward him. “And yo’ family probably gon’ still be settin’ up when we get there.”
“You already learnin’ us,” Couture said with a smile.
“I learned that the first time yo’ mama said dinner was at seven and ain’t nobody eat until almost nine.”
Couture laughed and picked up his fork.
We ate while talkin’ about who was gon’ be there and which relatives he expected to start drinkin’ before noon.
Couture warned me about an aunt who asked everybody personal questions and a cousin who believed every woman he met wanted him.
By the time breakfast was over, I felt like I knew half the family already.
After we cleaned the kitchen, we got dressed.
I wore a fitted blue sundress that fell below my knees with sandals and gold jewelry. Couture put on a matchin’ set with fresh sneakers, then stood behind me while I finished my hair in the mirror. His hands settled against my hips, and he rested his chin on my shoulder.
“You look good,” he said while watchin’ me through the mirror.
“Thank you,” I replied as I fixed one last piece of my hair.
“I hope you ready,” he added. “My grandma gon’ ask when we gettin’ married before you sit down.”
I looked at him through the mirror and tried to laugh it off.
We eventually left the apartment together, and Couture locked the door before checkin’ the hallway. He ain’t do it with the same tension he had weeks ago, but the habit was still there. I noticed it without callin’ attention to it.