Chapter 10
Raya
Ace drives like he always does when I’m in the car. He’s steady, attentive, one hand on the wheel, the other on my thigh, only going about five miles over the speed limit. My protective king.
“Jovan’s cool,” he’s saying. “He's loud, but he's harmless. Bron has more of a dry sense of humor. Dayton’s the peacemaker.”
“Mm hm.”
“If anybody jokes a little too much, probably Titus, they don’t mean it. We just clown like that.”
“I know.”
“If the wedding comes up—“
I grab his hand and squeeze.
“Ace,” I say gently, “I don’t need you to brief me on your friends. I know how humans behave.”
He glances at me quickly, then back to the road. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be condescending.”
“You weren’t.”
“I just want this shit to go well,” he admits. “I love you and I love them. I just want y’all to get along.”
“I know. And that’s my goal for today.”
And I mean that. Just maybe not in the way he thinks.
His shoulders relax, and it confirms how much this means to him. He laces his fingers through mine, and we ride in silence, just a married couple headed to a party.
When we pull up to Jovan’s house, the cars are lining the street. Ace parks, then turns to me, letting his eyes rake over me.
“You look beautiful,” he says. “I can’t wait to get you home later.”
I smile at the compliment, but in my head, another thought illuminates in my mind.
He might not feel the same way after I’m done here.
Inside, Jovan’s place is warm and crowded. A giant Christmas tree glows in the foyer, ornaments bright and colorful. Someone insists that we pose in front of it, so we do. Ace stands behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist. I smile for the camera. Soft and sweet.
Then we head downstairs.
The basement is impressive, especially for a single man. He’s got string lights, a full bar setup, leather couches, and festive music playing softly from every angle. It feels welcoming and homey, not like some cliched man cave.
I still don’t like him, though.
Ace greets everyone. Being social comes so easily to him. I love that about him, but it’s a bittersweet reminder of how much I suck at it. But I do my best to follow his lead. I’m pleasant. I’m polite. I’m smiling.
Inside, I’m gritting my teeth.
Every instinct I have is telling me all these people are my enemies. The bitterness I thought I’d choked down comes barreling back to the surface, making my smile falter.
Then I remind myself: this is for Ace.
And this is what love looks like sometimes.
After we’re settled and drinks have been poured, I turn to the birthday boy.
“Jovan, can I talk to you and Bron and Dayton for a second? In private?”
Ace looks at me, his eyebrows raised. I lean in to reassure him.
“It’s okay. I’m gonna fix this. Just trust me.”
He nods.
We stand and follow Jovan to the screened-in porch, which is heated. It’s nice and cozy out here, overlooking the large yard.
“This is really nice,” I compliment. “You did a good job.”
“Thanks,” Jovan says, pointing at the table he wants us to sit around. “This was my parents’ house. I renovated most of it, but kept the porch.”
“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss.”
He frowns at that. “They’re not dead. They just moved to Houston.”
“Oh.”
An awkward silence follows as the three guys take their seats. I fold my hands in my lap and take a breath. I kinda like having their attention, having them on the edge of their seats. That’s the way all men should be with women.
On edge.
“First of all, I love Ace,” I begin, opting for simple and direct. “He’s my favorite person in the entire world.”
All three of them seem to exhale at the same time, shoulders dropping, legs stretching out. They must have thought I was about to cuss them out or something. Where would they even get that idea?
“I wake up thinking about him,” I continue. “How to make his life better. How to bring him more peace,” I say, although the peace part is a lie. “How to make him happy. How to make him feel good. Everything I do, I do it with him in mind.”
They shift in their seats.
“And I would do anything to make him happy,” I continue. “Because his happiness is my happiness. We’re one now. Forever.”
They stare blankly.
“Which means his pain…is also my pain.” I pause to let that sink in. “My man was hurt when y’all didn’t stand up for him at the wedding.”
Bron goes to speak, but I cut him off.
“So I was hurt, too. But Ace is a forgiving man. He loves y’all. So I’m here to make amends so that my husband can be happy again. Because he’s been miserable without his boys.”
By the time I finish, they look appropriately chastened. Their eyes flick to each other, their faces cautious.
“I understand wanting to protect the person you care about.”
They nod slowly.
“We share that,” I say. “So, all that to say…I forgive you.”
Three frowns bloom on their faces.
“And I caution you to handle my husband more carefully in the future. You won’t get another chance with me.”
Bron laughs at that. “Yo, you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m playing?”
His smile fades. “So we pretending like we didn’t have reasons to be concerned about you?”
Jovan nods. “Spelman. Teaching certificate. Any of this ringing a bell?”
“Yeah, I lied,” I admit. “I wanted to impress Ace, because he’s an impressive man, and I was worried I wouldn’t be good enough. But he forgave me. He’s not as shallow as his family.”
Javon chuckles at that, shaking his head.
“So, are we good?” I ask. “Because if you let him down again, I won’t forgive. And I definitely won’t forget.”
Dayton clears his throat, scooting to the edge of the seat to get closer to me. “Well, first off, we already apologized to him. But second, to be honest, I’m not really feeling your attitude.”
“Okay, well if I’m being honest, I really don’t give a fuck. I wasn’t feeling how down Ace was for the last few months, but I dealt with it because I’m a good wife. Are you good friends?”
Bron rolls his eyes. “We been his boys for over ten years. You just got here.”
“And he still picked me over you,” I remind him. “That should tell you something.”
“What are you trying to accomplish here?” Jovan asks. “Cuz the way you’re coming off right now, it’s not conducive to making up and keeping the peace.”
“Oh, it’s not conducive?” I mock. “Get over yourselves. I’m a good wife to him, and your boy is happy.
I fuck him whenever he wants. I suck his dick whenever he wants—I’m talking about sloppy head, too,” I clarify.
“I’m ready to go to war for that man. With you, with his raggedy ass family, with his employees and coworkers and anybody else who tries him.
I’m ride or die, literally. Do you understand? And he fucking loves it.”
Silence.
I stand, smoothing my dress down with my hands.
“Other than that, I’m good. Happy birthday, Jovan. I’ve never had a Sagittarius friend before.”