Saint
“Girls, girls, gworls! Demure’s spring collection took us off the deep end. The upcoming season featured a combination of fantastical oceanic costumes and stunning ready-to-wear haute couture pieces. Iconic silhouettes nodded to the plunge below the surface with the constant theme of marine life surfacing. Intriguing appliqués, gorgeous sheers, and experimental beaded gowns resembling a coral reef make Tori Jacob’s work addictively awe-inspiring.
“The South Pointe native named the show Love: An Arranged Tragedy, which she’s been rather cagey about the meaning, but one could surmise that the experimental work is a nod to taking the plunge in matters of the heart and finding beauty beneath the surface. Ugh! I can’t stop loving this show, and I can’t wait to see more of Jacob’s work in the future.”
As I waited for the blogger to complete his recording, my eyes scanned the dressing area. Cameras were everywhere as bloggers and photographers alike sought to get behind-the-scenes post-show interviews completed with various models of note. I’d clocked Victoria disappearing to the area after leaving the stage, but I had yet to locate her. As I moved through the space, I recognized the honey-blonde-haired woman who’d visited the house months ago standing near a closed door with several other women. Robyn. As one of Victoria’s friends, she had to be aware of her location.
Approaching the group from behind, I put on my allistic mask to engage.
“Hey, I’m looking for Tori. Have you seen her?”
“Uh uh? Who are you?” One of the women standing beside her doled out the question. The woman named Robyn remained silent, observing me with scrutiny.
“I’m her husband,” I revealed as a hint of annoyance crossed my being. These were Tori’s friends, yet they seemed oblivious to anything about me.
“Husband? Oh, hell naw. We all need to speak with Tori.”
Facing the door the trio were all seemingly waiting at, the woman whose name I didn’t know pounded her fist against the it, demanding entry. “Tori, it’s Dream. Open this damn door.”
An exasperated but stunning Tori opened the door. I didn’t know what the fuck she had on, but she made it look good. Or maybe because it was my woman that it looked so good on her.
“What is it, Dream?” Her eyes clocked each of her friends before they landed on me. The sobering look she gave them was replaced with undeniable warmth as she gave me a slow perusal, confirming where I still reigned. Her eyes also held traces of pain and longing. My chest seized, aware that I’d fathered those feelings.
“Saint,” she acknowledged.
“Excuse me, ladies.” Taking a step forward, the sea of three women parted, granting me access to the rhythm of my heart.
Standing near the desk, I watched the woman named Dream pop a hip outward as she shifted her weight and rolled her neck. Lengthy, manicured fingers snapped and motioned, commanding attention as she spoke.
“Tori, hell no. We need answers. We’re all coming in. Step aside, heaux.”
Dream pushed her way into the office, followed by the other two women, while I looked on in amusement.
“Congrats on your show. You look stunning, Beauty,” I spoke first, seeking to disrupt the tension in her shoulders.
“So do you,” she returned, squinting her eyes at me.
“Aht, aht! Not so fast, lovebirds.” The rebuke came from the woman named Robyn.
“I don’t know what’s going on here, but I need an explanation before y’all get into it. We’ve had our differences, but I’m with you when you’re right. When you’re not, I have to say my piece.”
“Okay,” Victoria acquiesced, blowing out a stream of air.
“You went from being involved with a sex trafficker to dealing with a man none of us knew. Granted, I met Saint briefly but I know as much about him as does everyone else. This man just said he’s your husband. Is that correct, Tori?”
I, too, waited because it was apparent Victoria hadn’t told her friends the extent of our relationship. And while I wanted to be upset about it, I tried to understand it from her point of view. Our marriage was hasty inauthentic real, for starters. Not initially. It came as little surprise that she hadn’t had a discussion with her friends of my significance in her life – not even after I became significant. As she shifted slightly, it was then that I realized Victoria was nervous about the topic altogether.
Ignoring their presence, I trained my attention on the woman I loved. A multitude of things were weighing on me, and I needed to say my piece as well.
“Tori, I fucked up.”
“I know,” she clipped, returning that heated but now annoyed gaze to me. Her refusal to make it easy was to be expected. I soldiered onward, declining to let it thwart me.
“I didn’t know love until I met you. Until you came into my life, I was empty, living under the false impression that I was full. Isolation and contentment were my narrative. You exposed me to the abundance of love, giving me a richer, deeper, raw novel to my life.
“I didn’t believe it. Having never experienced it, I couldn’t conceive it as my destiny. How could you love me when everyone else rejected the idea? So, my burgeoning task was to prove you wrong. Give you the money so you’d leave me with my heart intact. And when you left it behind, it took me some time to come to my senses about what I was losing, so I pushed harder, seeking to solidify my theory that you wouldn’t want me like I want you. Like I crave you. It’s the reason I sent you the divorce papers.”
“I used to desire the comfort of my cold bed, but now it just doesn’t suit me. I used to revel in the marvel of the ocean, but that just doesn’t quite hit the mark.
“I used to violently beat my head to settle my nerves from the storm, but then I ran into a storm because your pussy hits like thunder…”
I knew we had an audience, but I didn’t care. I was fighting for my life.
“Ohhh…kay. Let’s get out of here,” Robyn instructed of the trio standing nearby, ushering a reluctant Dream and the other woman out of the office.
Victoria turned to her friends, halting their movements. “Dream, when you and Luna were saying all those horrible things about Saint at brunch all those weeks back, it stung so bad because–
“–Because we were seriously involved,” I assisted. “The romance between me and Tori was swift. Nothing about it was contemporary,” I revealed, never straying my eyes from her frame. “And we knew many people wouldn’t be accepting of it. It didn’t take us long to realize that we wanted to be each other’s forever. We went to the courthouse and secretly got married.”
My eyes fell on Victoria as I continued. “I got your note, Tori, so I figured I’d make my intentions felt in person. The day I married you, it was just the two of us, and it was one of the best days of my life.”
Stepping closer, the worlds between us shrank.
“Beauty,” I started, looking at the large rock I’d placed on her finger months ago. Just as she’d refused to sign the divorce papers, she refused to remove my ring. Reaching for her hand, I removed it, massaging her fingers as I went. “Beauty, I don’t want a divorce. I was a fool to believe I did. There’s a castle on the beach in Paramour. A shell of a house, it no longer exists as a home without you in it.”
“Tori, I don’t know what this nigga did, but if you don’t take his ass back!” Dream gushed.
“–Beauty…” Stifling a laugh, I fell to a knee and used my other leg as leverage to support my weight. “I know you love me, just like you’re aware of how deep my love is for you. It’s not a tragedy, and I’m willing to spend the remainder of my life proving to you that it isn’t. Cradling that tortoise with your life confirmed it for me. I knew then that I would love you despite not knowing what that even felt like. I didn’t do this right the first time, but starting now, I’m willing to fix all my mistakes concerning you. I’m asking you now around all your friends…”
I scanned the room, noticing the addition of three other people. An older man and woman had joined us, along with Serenity, watching in silence.
“And parents?” I questioned the gentleman, who nodded his head, confirming my suspicion.
“Will you marry me again? I’ll give you the wedding of your dreams around everyone we love to–”
Like a tidal wave, her lips collided with me, silencing my request. Her tongue traced my lips before traveling deeper into my mouth. Unashamedly, my dick bricked at the way she was kissing me amongst those closest to her. Ignoring the need fermenting down below, I broke free of her attack and returned the ring to her bare finger.
“No. I won’t marry you again,” she answered, cradling my head in her hands.
“No?” I questioned as I stood, palming my head, combing my beard, and feeling my toes begin to curl.
“I don’t need a grand display to know that forever with you is what I crave. I don’t need to put our love on display to prove it to anyone in this room.” Glancing around the space, she scowled at our audience to drive her point home.
“Now I need all of you to get out and leave me and my husband to it,” she smirked.
“Victoria, you’ll get your privacy, but we’ll need to discuss all of this soon,” wearily, her father added before exiting.
Once the room was clear, she smiled. Satisfied with our solitude, her hand grazed my jawline, and her fingers raked through my goatee.
“I love that you separate the fruity O’s into different containers, sorting them out by color because each color is a different flavor. I love that you curl your toes, crinkle your nose, and rub your head against me when it storms. I love that when you plate our food, none of the items are allowed to touch. I love that you prefer the grocery store late at night or early in the morning when no one’s there. I love that you can name every animal in the ocean and handle a high-powered gun with ease. I love every fucking thing about you, Saint Tyrone, but most of all, I love you. Not for a million dollars, not for anything in this world outside of the fact that you are authentically you.”
“Victoria Miller, I love you. You belong to me, Beauty.”
“People don’t belong to people.” She fleshed out the line from one of her favorite movies. Having been forced to watch it against my will, I caught the reference.
“You do. You belong to me so that I can love you.”
I didn’t fail her, remembering the retorted line from countless nights we’d spent watching it together.
I closed in on the small space between us, cupping her chin and tilting her head back. “How do I get this fucking contraption off of you?” I asked of the peculiar wicker dress petticoat, causing her to chuckle.
“I got you,” she vowed, unhooking the contraption.
It fell to the floor with a light thud. Lifting her out of it, she eased back onto the desk. I snaked my hands up her thighs, and then my fingers grazed the waistband of her thong. Victoria was embarrassingly wet. Noting the time, I quickly calculated how much was available to engage in the quickie we both desired. A nip to my lips brought me back to the present task.
“Fuck them, people, Saint. Put it in.”