KNOW THY ENEMY, SWEDEN
Upon reaching the milestone of thirty came a new revelation of how I wanted to present myself to the world. Crop tops and skimpy dresses were okay on occasion, but I was a successful business owner of a gallery and spa with many more spas soon to come. My appearance when I walked into a room needed to reflect that.
The feminine urge to get dolled up. The feminine urge to wear pearls. The feminine urge to dress up. It was all pervasive and influential on how I presented to the world.
Taking a thorough inventory of the clothing in my closet, I started freeing several articles from their hangers and tossing them into a plastic bin. My hands were generous, tugging away at the parts of me that no longer resonated with my present self. While total modesty wasn’t the objective, I wasn’t opposed to covering up and dressing more like the boss I was.
Duke is rubbing off on me .
The third incarnate of Stepford man entered every room as his authentic self. Heads turned—mostly in acknowledgment of the man they knew him to be. Those who didn’t know him wished to know him or probed into his significance. His impression wasn’t solely confined to Paramour. I’d witnessed his effect worldwide. I sought that level of respect, of recognition, of power.
Formidable and laudable, Duke was a force. It wasn’t enough to love him. I admired him. It wasn’t enough to fuck him. I revered him. When he spoke, I took notes. A master, and I was the pupil. I’d learned a great deal in the brief time we’d been together. So maybe he was rubbing off on me, but only in the best ways.
Finalizing the task of ridding my closet of overly revealing pieces, I took my discarded clothes to a local shelter. Afterward, I spent the early afternoon in Demure’s downtown showroom. Replacing the donated clothes was the objective. Armed with a complimentary bottle of Dom, the mission was executed to a tee.
New Year’s and Christmas were swiftly approaching. With that knowledge, it was time I found a dress for both occasions. As I dragged a knee-length flapper dress across my chest by hanger, Tori’s voice rang through the showroom.
“Heard my sister-in-love was breaking bank in one of my stores. I had to come and witness it for myself.”
“Not breaking my bank,” I scoffed. “And the bank connected to this particular piece of plastic might be unbreakable.”
“Ooh, shopping with Mr. Stepford’s money, are we? In that case, let me be of assistance.”
Tori slid the flapper dress from my hands and replaced it with a more stylish, much pricier number.
Where I thought I’d finished, she informed me I hadn’t. She went to work, pulling exclusive pieces from the back and grabbing from the display hooks to get me right. With her help, I was able to put together pieces I’d never dreamed of pairing, but it was fashionable, nonetheless. If there was one thing my sister-in-love knew how to do, it was step. Over a decade of creating clothes hadn’t changed her impeccable fashion sense.
I left Demure’s showroom with so many bags that Tori and her sales associate had to help me carry them to the car.
With my yoga class time approaching, I headed straight for Paramour Canyon. There would be no time to deposit the haul of clothing to my condo or Duke’s penthouse.
Already dressed in yoga leggings and a matching zip jacket, all that was left to do was set up the room. With ten minutes to spare before the start of the class, I pulled out the yoga mats, positioning them staggered throughout the room. As I worked to get everything situated, the shuffle of a presence announced itself.
Mya .
She made the fine hairs of my skin stand at attention with her presence. For several weeks, she’d gone missing from class after our awkward encounter at Gray Hotel . Following Duke’s revelation that she’d threatened to blackmail him, she’d really walked into the lion’s den. Her nonattendance led me to believe she’d dropped the class entirely. Beyond gorgeous, with legs that stretched for days and the face of America’s Next Top Model. You would never look at her and see her repulsiveness. No. Mya’s ugliness was skin-deep. I wondered why she’d fumbled Duke so terribly.
His dick was flawless.
His money was long.
His heart was massive.
His attentiveness and care were there.
What the fuck were you thinking?
Rising to my full height, I freed a stream of air as she approached.
“I was hoping to see you here today,” cordially, she smiled.
I wanted to snatch her skinny ass up and drag her by the hair off the cliff we were positioned on.
Deep breaths, Serenity .
Shifting slightly, I braced myself for more bullshit. Now was not the time. Neither was it the place. The class would soon be starting. I needed to be in a serene mental space to teach adequately.
Deep breaths.
Somatic release was all about mind-body awareness. I was ready to release my hands on Mya. Cognizant that she’d heightened my body’s temperature, I drew in another deep breath. Concurrently, I willed myself to release the tension and anxiety she’d caused by her mere presence. Only after my nervous system settled did I speak.
“Okay.”
“I just wanted to first off apologize to you for my behavior during our last encounter. That’s not the person I’ve worked to become. I reverted to a version of myself that I’m ashamed of. So… Sorry .”
She said that last part with her hands.
“And secondly, I wish to speak with you about continuing the class. I hope to remain. I won’t bring up anything concerning me and my ex or you and him . Would that make things weird?
Yes .
“It’s not a problem,” I smiled. “Not a problem at all unless you make it one.”
“Thank you—”
“Make no mistake, Myaquanna , you’re treading close to the sun. Don’t get burned.
I had to let her ass off with that warning. My name may have meant peace, but playing with me would always lead to consequences.
That evening, as I lounged across the couch against Duke’s chest, I didn’t tell him about my run-in with Mya. Wouldn’t. He didn’t need to know everything where it concerned her. She’d weaponized herself, remaining in my class and granting me an opportunity to study her. Her return would be to my advantage.
A realm of frozen lakes, reindeer, and snow-covered plains glimmered under the northern lights. Christmas in North Sweden was absolutely everything.
High above, the Kiruna sky came alive with generous flecks of pink, green, and purple streaks. Vibrant colors snaked across the firmaments, reminding me that our current realm was a mere fragment of what unseen bits prevailed.
The magical phenomenon didn’t stop at the mere display. Adding cherries to such a wonder, like peaks of a strawberry sundae drizzled with chocolate, the lights danced as if vibing to an unheard tune. Absolutely no one could tell me God did not exist. The evidence of his omnipresence showed itself all over the world. Witnessing such magnificence in the form of an aurora borealis was awe-inspiring.
“Stand to your left. My right.”
Without hesitation, I followed along with the professional providing assistance. Long-range photographs were snapped as I posed, holding up the peace sign in several. In others, I held both hands up and motioned in awe to the sky. Duke joined me for a couple’s pose. Of our countless adventures, we had many of them to share. Subsequently, the remainder of our crew joined in for a group photo.
Mulled wine called gl?gg warmed our bellies, and wonder warmed our hearts. Tucked away from the city lights, I and three men named Duke saw the light show in the sky without disruption. Once we’d gotten our fill of the beautiful aurora, we headed back to the rental properties, which would be our dwelling on Christmas Day. The glass cabins, too, offered a view of the phenomenon in the sky.
The following morning, I rose to the feel of Duke’s warm and skilled tongue between my legs. The unbidden moans he dragged from my lips caused him to draw back the blankets and study my face. The cunnilinguist loved to observe my facial expressions. His handsome features were coated in my essence.
“Merry Christmas, Bumble Bee.”
“Merry Christmas, babe,” with gusto and a fluttery center, I returned with a lazy smile.
With our birthdays recently passed, we’d both agreed not to exchange gifts. Each of our celebrations had a hefty price tag. Duke had, as always, financed our trip to Sweden. Nothing further was required for Christmas.
The sun dawdled on the horizon, the wintery white blanketing the landscape, paired with a mix of pink and lavender sky, looked like something out of a Disney movie.
As the day commenced, so did we, basking in its beauty and bundled to a tee. Paramour experienced its fair share of winter, but Sweden was indeed a cold day in hell. Depths of the Arctic required the appropriate attire. We dressed in a base, middle, and outer layer of coat on our upper and lower bodies. A balaclava also covered our faces from the bite of the wind.
Located twenty minutes from Kiruna, Jukkasj?rvi was a town of yet another attraction. We visited Icehotel, a lodging made entirely of ice. Even the furniture was made from ice. Their ice bar, which served a variety of alcoholic concoctions, offered drinks from an ice chalice. An ice chapel was notorious for couples getting married year-round. We were lucky to get to witness one couple’s holy matrimony during our visit.
The hotel also featured themed art suites designed by artists all over the world—art made from ice sculpture. Experiencing that leg of our trip as a gallery owner was, indeed, a treat.
Save for the mattress inside, the hotel’s guest rooms were also made of ice. Shivering the entire duration of our visit, I happily declined to attempt an overnight stay.
At the base of an ice slide outside the hotel, I stood with Duke’s father. Together, we both snapped photos of the remaining Dukes. While waiting for Duke and Duke Senior to come down the slide, he inched closer to me.
“So things are serious between you and D3, huh?”
Unsure of what he expected as my response, I opted for the naked truth. “I love him.”
“I can tell,” he nodded with a grin. “The chemistry between you two is nothing like how it was with that heifer, Mya . You, Miss Bee, are the real deal. He’ll be looking to lock you down soon. Have a couple of babies. Are you ready for that?”
Absolutely not.
“We haven’t set marriage as one of our goals.”
Again, I spoke from my heart. I loved Duke unconditionally. A huge part of why we worked was because we wanted the same things. We denied the same things. He had a vasectomy and no desire for children or marriage, just like me. It wasn’t part of our future. I wished our people would stop trying to impress it on us.
Watching as he helped his grandfather head back to the top of the slide a second time, I waved and smiled.
“He may have not expressed it, but I know my son. Before my wife’s passing –God rest her soul– he wanted a family. He just married the wrong woman, and thankfully, he and Mya didn’t go that route.”
My lips remained sealed, devoid of a poised comment. Mya . There she was again, surfacing in the paradise of my life with Duke. Being compared to her grated me senselessly. I was my own fucking woman. Why was she always a topic of discussion?
Plastering a polite smile on as Duke came down the slide for the second time, my body felt warm despite the -5o weather of Jukkasj?rvi.
Later that evening, we had a fireside Swedish dinner, and afterward, we toasted marshmallows and made smores. Save for the morning discussion about Mya, my Christmas had been lovely with the three Dukes.
“Truth moment,” smiling, I spoke to the group of men I’d shared the holiday with.
“You preface things like Duke, too. Just say it,” his dad teased with a laugh.
“I’ve never had smores.”
A cacophony of really circled our small group around the fire.
“Toast that ‘mallow up. Let her see what she’s been missing,” Duke Senior pressed.
The gooey, sugary taste of toasted marshmallows struck my taste buds first. Followed by that was the chocolate and the crunch of the graham cracker. While not a fan of heavy sweets, I could see it becoming a monthly staple as my period made its appearance.
“Winner, winner, chicken dinner?” Duke Senior asked.
“It’s yummy,” I confessed.
“Yeah?” His warm brown eyes bloomed with satisfaction as if I’d given him the winning numbers to the lottery. All three of the Dukes were satisfied.
“I like it. Yeah,” I laughed.