28. Azalea
28
Azalea
“You still not speaking to me?”
“I opened the door, didn’t I?”
My sister stepped up and wrapped her arms around me, her patented way of apology. Never any words, just affection.
I patted her on the back twice before pushing her away. “Why do you smell like a Wendy’s double stack?”
“I just left the gym.”
“Ew. You’ve never been this musty before, my God. Come in, but you gotta sit on the floor.”
“I hate you.” She laughed as she closed and locked the door behind her. Pinkie and Brownie gave her the prime guest experience, jumping at her legs and whimpering until she gave them the appropriate amount of hugs and smooches.
“What were you doing?” she asked me, a dog in each arm.
“Working on a project.”
“Are you still seeing felonbae?”
“Not at the moment. Probably not anymore.”
“Thank God for that.” She studied my face. “Be happy. You dodged a bullet.”
I decided to try something new today.
Brutal honesty.
“Honestly, Mina, I don’t care what you think about him. You’re on the outside looking in, pressing your annoying nose up against the glass of my relationship.”
“So it’s a relationship, now?”
“Yes, bitch! With a date, and sex, and him taking care of my baby without me having to ask for it. He’s nice to me. He’s protective. He’s real.”
“Real felonious.”
I stared blankly. “Put the dogs down.”
“Why?”
“Just put them down for a second.”
Her eyes got big. “You’re gonna hit me.”
“No, I’m not. Let them loose.”
She pulled them closer to her, whispering, “Stay. Don’t let your mommy hurt me.”
Despite my anger, I burst out laughing. “You can’t hold them forever.”
“You said he’s nice to you like that’s something to brag about. That’s the bare minimum, Azi. See, that’s what I’m saying. You get all geeked up over shit that’s—“
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
That shut her up.
“Let me tell you something about Roman. Roman wasn’t nice to me. He was nice to me where you could see, but behind closed doors, he was a fucking asshole.”
“Stop saying the f-word. You’re scaring me.”
“Good! Maybe fear will shut you up. Nothing else does.”
“Okay, but Roman had a degree and a job, and he was paying the bills.”
“So? I just told you he wasn’t nice and you’re talking about money?”
“Not just money. Yall were…equally yoked. What could you possibly have in common with a felon? Who’s your client, I might add.”
“We don’t have a lot in common,” I admitted. “But I don’t think we need to.”
I marched over to my mantle and grabbed the portrait, shoving it in Mina’s face. “You see this? He drew this.”
“Seriously?” She leaned back and narrowed her eyes, getting a better look. “That’s beautiful.”
“Yes, it is. He sees the beauty in me, Amina. He makes me feel good. He makes me happy. Shouldn’t that be enough?”
“Ideally, yeah. It should be. But it’s not.”
I put the portrait back in its place and sat next to her on the floor. “I don’t wanna think about the ‘not’.”
“I know.”
I blew out a sigh.
“So…just out of curiosity and not approval…how’s the sex?”
“You already know.”
“So, everything they say is true.” She shook her head. “Criminal dick is bomb.”
“I can’t stand you.”
She shrugged. “I’ll never support you dating him, but if you could get the D and leave it at that, I might be able to get on board.”
“And I don’t need you on board, so I don’t care.”
“Ew. You’ve changed.”
“Yep. Deal with it.”
Later, alone in my office, I tried my best to get focused on my project. I’d made some progress on my business plan, and had a list of community centers to reach out to, but I couldn’t stay locked in. My mind kept drifting to him.
It didn’t seem like I could have it all. Roman had the practical stuff on lock. Isaac had the emotional aspect I needed. But Mina was right, much as I hated to admit that. I couldn’t build a real life with a man who was out here actively committing crimes. It was one thing when I thought he was working on keeping his life on track, but this was something else entirely.
I navigated back to my Pinterest tab and the dream life I’d curated. A big, beautiful home. A wedding. A ring. A craft doghouse for Pinkie and Brownie. A bespoke bookcase for my novels. A man. The picture I pinned was a shadow, a silhouette, an avatar of my future husband. We’d have a marriage like my parents’ and my sister’s. We’d have kids one day. I’d be running my non-profit on the side of my main job as a PO.
I would have it all. I had to believe that.
Just not with Isaac.
I stared at the three-carat princess-cut diamond and sighed. The dream seemed further away than ever.