Chapter 14
Fourteen
Dy
“ T hank you,” I said as the cab driver pulled up in front of my apartment.
“De rien!”
Although I had my international driving permit, I wasn’t yet comfortable driving in Paris.
I had only been here a week, and I had barely seen the inside of my new place because of how much I had been working.
Maria was recommitted to making my daily life hell now that we were reunited, and I was beyond over it already.
Luckily for me, though, she met a man a week earlier, and he had asked her to be his Valentine. That meant I had a night to myself. I considered taking myself on a solo Valentine’s date, but I was going to curl up on my sofa, order food, and watch rom coms.
I walked to the door of my apartment and almost dropped my phone when I saw who was at my door.
Smiling, Wilder said, “Surprise, bitch!”
Rushing to her, I wrapped my arms around my best friend and squeezed tight. I felt myself tearing up as we embraced.
Laughing, she said, “I missed you, too. Now let me in this house. It’s cold as hell.”
Releasing her, I sniffled and quickly opened the front door.
Wilde set her bags down, then gave herself a tour of my small space, while I followed behind her like the thirsty best friend I was.
I missed her so much, and I had been through so much in the last few days that I wanted nothing more than her presence.
I knew she was hella busy, though, so I wasn’t about to ask her to drop everything and visit me. I was glad she did, though.
Her last stop was my bedroom, and I didn’t need her to tell me how she felt about the place, because it was written all over her face. But, of course, she did anyway.
“I hate it. Come home, please.”
Her bluntness caught me off guard, and I burst into laughter.
“It is not that bad, Wilde. I think it’s kinda cute in here.”
Walking over to my bed, Wilder plopped down and rolled her eyes. “Well, you think wrong, because it sucks.” She patted the spot on the bed beside her. “Come hither.”
I sighed. She now had that look on her face that said we were about to talk . She was fully up to speed on everything that happened with Brick because she was the first person I called when I made it to Paris.
On that phone call, Wilder allowed me to get everything out of my mind and heart. She let me yell, scream, cry, and laugh until I had no more words or tears for the situation.
Sinking into the semi-firm mattress, I glanced at her.
She raised a brow. “You okay?”
Turning so that I was on my back, I stared at the ceiling. “No.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Did I?
Everything was still so fresh, and it all hurt so bad that just the mere mention of the man’s name would make me emotional.
The best thing about having Maria as a boss in this season of my life was that she kept me entirely too busy to worry about my own issues.
Lying here with Wilder, though, I couldn’t escape the depth of my sadness.
I wiped a tear that had fallen and released a shaky breath.
In a voice barely above a whisper, I said, “This shit hurts, Wilde.”
Without words, she moved closer to me and pulled me into her arms. I rested there and allowed the tears to fall as I continued.
“I think what hurts the most is that a week ago, I had no problem spending the rest of my life with that man. We had done so much talking about our futures and how they included each other. I believed all that.
“I’ve been in love with him all my life.
I carried the middle school version of him with me all this time, but I used to dream about what the grown-up Brixton was like.
When we ran into each other, and he was even better than I imagined, I just felt like it made sense .
Like, ‘of course this is who I’m supposed to be with.
’ I felt like my life was falling into place, and I thought he was right there with me. ”
Wilder tried patting my tears away, but it was useless, because they wouldn’t stop coming.
“The man was everything I hoped for and more. Until he wasn’t. I can’t unsee what I saw, and I can’t unfeel this hurt. I hate his ass. I hate that he met up with her. I hate that he let her kiss him. I hate that he didn’t push her ass away from him. I hate that I’m still crying about it.”
As I spoke, Wilder nodded but said nothing.
“But even with all that hate, Wilde, I still want the man. And that is some bullshit.”
“What if it ain’t though?” she asked, prompting me to snap my head in her direction.
“Why would you say that?” I asked.
She sighed. “Best friend, listen. In the years I’ve known you, I’d never witnessed you as happy as you have been since you ran into that man.
If he is actually on some bullshit, then forget him.
But what if it really wasn’t what it looked like?
I just think that, for as strong as your feelings were—are—for him, you should have a conversation with the man before you write him off.
Just so you won’t have any regrets in the long term. ”
I blinked. Wilder was the cut-off queen . I found it hard to believe that she wanted me to give a man who had lied to me and kissed another woman a second chance.
She must have known exactly where my confusion was coming from, because her next words were, “You know I’m quick to throw away a man if he isn’t acting right, but I think you may have jumped the gun with this one.
I’m not asking you to take him back. Just give him a chance to explain.
Give yourself a chance to hear him out.”
“Whatever, Wilder.”
She sighed. “Don’t do that. I want you happy, and if he makes you happy, I want him for you. We don’t have to talk about him anymore, though. Go take a shower and put on something cute.”
“Why?”
“Because I have plans for us.”
I chuckled. “You just got here. When have you had time to make plans for us?”
“On the plane, girl. You knew I wasn’t coming all the way to Paris without an agenda. We are about to have a Galentine’s Day for the books. I’m tired of seeing my sister frown. Go wash ya ass.”
Laughing, I did as I was told. For the first time in days, I felt an inkling of joy.
I was excited about a night out with my bestie.
I knew she loved me and wanted what was best for me.
I also heard what she was saying about hearing Brixton out.
Maybe she was right, but I wasn’t quite ready to act on that.
Either way, I didn’t need to have all the answers tonight. I needed to focus on enjoying time with my girl.
I rolled my eyes as Wilder, as I passed yet another couple kissing like they were the only people out here.
Wilder had really done her research and found that there was a fair in town. The fairgrounds were beautiful, especially now that night had fallen, and only the shimmering gold lights were brightening the place.
She and I always loved fair and amusement park rides, so it really was the perfect outing for us. Unfortunately, the setting also reminded me of my first date with Brixton Ellis, so our little girl’s date was doing nothing to improve my mood.
Blinking, I tried to force the memories out, but they weren’t budging.
“You all right?” I glanced at Wilder, who was already looking at me, frowning.
“I’m fine,” I said, lying through my teeth. “I guess I’m just in my head a little.”
Wrapping an arm around me, she squeezed gently. “Well, get out of it. You’re in Paris, D, at a fair that’s nothing like what we have at home. And you’re with me. That last fact should be enough to turn that frown upside down,” she said, smirking.
Her words made me smile, so I gave in to it and looped my arm around hers.
“You’re right. My bad.”
“Now come on and let’s find some fair food. I hope they got funnel cakes out here.”
“Me too.”
I let her tug me along in the direction she wanted to go.
“Wilde, we just passed a funnel cake truck.”
She was so intent on being the leader that she missed the fact that we were bypassing all the food that she claimed she wanted. She shook her head.
“I was looking at this,” she said, holding up the fairgrounds map. “And I think there’s better food over this way.”
I didn’t argue with her, but the further we walked from the smell of good food, the more annoyed I became with my best friend.
Her ass don’t know where we’re going.
“It should be through there.”
We passed under a canopy of what looked like hanging Christmas tree lights, and I frowned as I did a double take.
“Is it just me, or did the whole vibe just change?”
We had just transitioned from a noisy, populated atmosphere to a much quieter, intimate portion of the fairgrounds. There were a few scattered food trucks, but there was barely anybody standing in line for them.
Once I continued observing the area, I realized why the energy was different. The soft sound of violins playing was gradually increasing in volume as we approached a group of musicians, ironically gathered beside the funnel cake truck.
I smiled at them, and one of them winked at me.
“Girl, what is this? This seems like a fair for lovers, and that ain’t us. Let’s get our food and go,” I said, rolling my eyes again. The atmosphere was nice, but just like all the couples we had passed minutes earlier, it reminded me of what I’d had and lost with Brixton in a matter of weeks.
“Fine, mood assassin. We can dip as soon as I get a crêpe,” Wilder said, pointing across the field at a place I didn’t even bother looking at. Where she wanted to go was far, and I wanted nothing more than to leave and drown my sorrows in a bottle of wine at home.
“I thought you wanted a funnel cake.”
“I did, but girl, we’re in France. I wanna be cultured.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her dumb ass and follow behind her. Just as we passed another set of musicians, the one sitting next to his harp said in a thick French accent, “You smile like the sun knows your name.”
I stopped cold. Turning slowly, I faced the man with squinted eyes.
“What did you just say?” I had to be hearing things. Instead of answering me, he winked and resumed playing his harp.
Wilder, realizing I was no longer walking back, tracked a few steps to meet me.
“What’s wrong?”
I stood there stunned for a few more seconds before shaking my head and sighing.
“Nothing. I must be going through it worse than I realized, because I’m hearing shit.”
We kept walking, and a few steps later, there was a man wearing a large hawker tray with bags of roasted chestnuts. I smiled politely because he had his eyes on me.
He returned my smile and said, “Like light was made just to follow your face.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Ayo, I’m definitely not trippin’,” I said, turning to him. “Who are you?”
Instead of answering me, he reached into his tray and pulled out a single rose before handing it to me.
With a hanging bottom lip, I accepted it, but my thoughts had me frozen in that spot. I knew those words and who wrote them, but why was I hearing them out of strangers’ mouths? And why did this man just hand me a rose?
“Come on, best friend.”
Slowly, I turned to Wilde. And why was she now talking softly and grinning at me as if she kn e w something I didn’t ?
“What the hell is going on, Wilder?”
Kissing her teeth, she said, “If you walk just a few more steps, you’ll know the answer to your question. Just go with it, Miss Stubborn.”
Because I was still in a general state of shock and my heart was pounding way too hard against my chest, I did as she said without a fuss. As I began to walk, I lowered my head to try and steady my breathing. When I looked at the ground, I realized we had been walking on a trail of roses.
The music playing had ceased, and I continued on the trail, and when I finally felt like I wasn’t going to have a heart attack, I looked up. My breath hitched.
My best friend was no longer in front of me— he was.
None other than Brixton Ellis was standing in front of an entire orchestra, holding a rose bouquet.
As soon as our eyes met, the music began again, but this time, it was the people behind him making the music happen.
The melody was familiar to me, but I couldn’t pinpoint what song they were playing.
With the most serious expression on his face, Brick started to speak.
“When you laugh, the world feels warmer—like spring bloomed early just in case. I call you doll ’cause you’re too perfect not to—not just your pretty, though that’s real too . . .”
With every word he spoke, I reflected—remembered. I remembered why I loved him so much, why I didn’t want to. And why I couldn’t stop .
As I gazed into his eyes, I accepted that last fact. I would never stop loving this man.
By the time he delivered the last lines of a poem I knew all too well—the first one ever written for me—my face was soaked with tears.
He started toward me, and I held my breath, anticipating his next move.
His expression hadn’t changed, but his eyes and his actions let me know that he wasn’t trying to stop loving me either.
Once he was only inches away from me, he spoke again.
“Doll,” he said in a low tone. “I promise I didn’t kiss that damn girl.
She kissed me, and my dumb ass didn’t move away fast enough.
That’s on me, and I’m so fuckin’ sorry about it.
I could give you a lotta excuses about why I was there and what my intentions were, but the only thing important right now is how it made you feel.
My only concern in this moment is making sure you feel the sincerity of my apology and my love for you. ”
My tears blurred my vision, and I looked past him as he continued.
“I’ve been sick since you left, Dy. Sick because I miss you and because I realize my actions hurt you. You gotta believe that I’on wanna do nothin’ in this world more than I wanna make you smile. I love you, baby. I’m in love with you, and I need you bad as hell.”
I was still looking away from him, so I didn’t miss when Marcellus appeared from behind the crêpe truck with one hand folded behind his back and the other holding a small velvet box.
I frowned and looked back at Brick for clarification on what was happening, but he was too busy lowering himself to one knee. Marcellus approached, handed Brick the box, then kissed my cheek.
“Wassup, Doll?” he whispered in my ear before disappearing behind me.
Brick grasped my hand, prompting me to look down at him.
“In the last few weeks, you’ve made me the happiest man on Earth, and you gotta give me the rest of your life to return the favor.” He opened the box and finished with, “Marry me, baby.”