Chapter 8
ANTONIAS
Katrelle: Just thinking about you. Can’t wait to hear your voice.
Katrelle: Don’t you think this dress is beautiful?
Katrelle: I can’t wait to be your wife.
Skimming over Katrelle’s messages, I inhaled and exhaled just as deeply.
Being a man of my word had never been complicated until now.
I’d never hesitated to tell anyone what it was.
Not ever. However, I’d jumped the gun with Katrelle.
Proposing to her should’ve been the start of something new.
Instead, I felt like this was a test that either way, I could fail.
“One foot in front of the other, baby. Just like that.”
It was day three of Bianca doing a simple workout walking the grounds of S.
S. Estates. Usually, I was locked in and focused completely on her.
This morning, though, shit was off with me.
I couldn’t blame the energy on anything other than the fact that I hadn’t slept next to Bianca last night.
She slept the whole night through and didn’t require my presence to lull her to sleep.
Admittedly, I felt some type of way. Then, the messages from Katrelle started flooding in.
I hadn’t talked to her since she left my condo, and I wasn’t looking forward to talking to her about calling the wedding off.
Rejection was something I struggled with. Slighting a woman I just proposed to mere weeks ago was like a slap in the face to her. While I didn’t give a fuck about many things, an innocent person’s genuine feelings weren’t something to play with.
“Let me lay here for a minute,” Bianca said. If my mood was what had her wanting to quit, I had to shape the fuck up.
“Nah—”
“Please,” she implored. “I want to feel the grass against my back for a second. And maybe my friends will come talk to me.”
Chuckling at her friends, the geese, I said, “Aight.”
“As a matter of fact, leave me here. I’ll walk back on my own.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
She waved me off as she laid in the grass, stretched her arms, breathed in deeply, then blew the air out between her lips. A serene smile was on her face as the sun beat down on her beauty.
“I’ll be okay, I have my phone. Run along now,” she playfully commanded.
Shaking my head, I did as I was told. I was in my head anyway and needed to get my shit together.
“Where’s Bianca?” Kwamé asked when I returned to the patio. She stood at the patio door with Jessie clinging to her side.
I pointed towards the lake running along the backside of the property.
“She should be heading back this way soon.”
“You left her out there?” she fussed.
Snickering, I replied, “She has her phone if she can’t do it. Mind you, I told her the same shit. She all but cussed me out and sent me on my way.”
Kwamé joined me on the patio and laughed. “Aw, did you shed a tear while walking back?”
Her teasing me brought back old memories. “That shit used to get you dunked in the lake,” I stated.
She cackled while handing me Jessie. Baby girl’s big gummy grin stole a piece of my heart. I couldn’t wait to hold my own child.
“Will I get to meet Katrelle?” Kwamé asked as she took a seat.
“She’ll be at the office’s Christmas Eve party.”
“Ugh… I won’t be going to that. You have to invite her out here for dinner or something. I promise to be on my best behavior.”
“Why wouldn’t you be?” I asked.
Perturbed, she glanced at me. “So, tell me what it is you love about Katrelle. What made you fall for her?”
My face reflected the annoyance I felt at such a question.
Kwamé giggled. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“If I would’ve asked you that question about Bianca, you would’ve given me a litany of responses.”
“Nah, I wouldn’t.”
“Yes, you would. For instance, what’s Bianca’s favorite color?”
Shrugging, I said, “It’s somewhere between burgundy and red.”
“Her favorite food to eat?”
“Any type of soup.”
“Music?”
“Hip hop. What are you tryna say, bruh?”
Kwamé smiled. “Yet, you can’t tell me one thing you love about your fiancée?”
“I’ve known Bianca for years. Of course, I know a lot about her.”
“No, bro. You got to know her. There’s a difference.”
Again, I looked at her crazy.
“That look right there tells me everything I need to know.”
“Which is?”
“When’s the last time you thought about the Lovelaces?” Her question threw me the fuck off.
“Why the fuck would I think about them, and why are you changing the subject?”
“Because, dear brother, you must let Uriah Lovelace go and heal from those raggedy muthafuckas before you walk down the aisle with anyone. Especially if you plan on marrying a woman you don’t even love.”
Uriah Lovelace was a name I didn’t hear too often. I’d done so much to scrub my birth name from my memory. Just when I was about to argue my case about my birth parents, Kwamé shut me the fuck up.
“Listen, you here to counsel Bianca—”
“Aht, aht! You said—”
“I know what the fuck I said,” I interrupted gently.
Kwamé snickered. “Exactly, bro. So, spill. Where is your head when it comes to the Lovelaces?”
Leaning back against the chair, it would be so simple to just get up and leave this conversation where it was.
Truthfully, though, I respected my sister.
I respected her enough to know she was keeping it a buck with me.
Marrying someone with the weight of hatred on my shoulders was as good as putting said marriage inside of a coffin.
“What do you want me to say, huh?” I questioned her.
“I want you to be honest with yourself. Bianca doesn’t deserve a half-assed love.”
“Bianca? Don’t you mean Katrelle?”
“No… You know exactly who I mean. I’m not about to sit back and watch you catch the girl only to lose her because you can’t let those sorry-ass people go.”
Smirking, I said, “Bianca has told me in more ways than one that she ain’t fuckin’ wit’ me.”
“Ask her again. After you break things off with Katrelle.”
This time, I chuckled. “You just asked me when you were gon’ meet Katrelle.”
Kwamé shrugged. “I’ll still meet her. Once I get a feel for her, I’ll let my spirit decide whether I’m gon’ feel bad for her when you wake up and realize she’s not the woman for you.”
“You hell, baby.” I shook my head and laughed at her mischievous smirk. “To answer ya question about those people… I don’t think about them. Do I hate them? Yes. They left me to die or worse.”
“Have you ever thought that if they kept you, you could be dead or worse?”
“Nah,” I replied. “My thing is, they made a decision to drop me off like I wasn’t shit. Like I was a fuckin’ dog they put in a box. How the fuck does anyone get over that?”
Kwamé smiled gently. “You work through your emotions and find a way to bring yourself peace about it. It’s something that can never be undone. You’re here now. Your life is nearly perfect. You’ve met some amazing people. People who love you like blood family.”
Smiling, I said, “I see why the NBA pays you all that damn money.”
She chuckled. “I care a lot about what I do. I care more about my family, though. We’re the only Suarez siblings who remained close.
I tend to be overprotective of you even if I have to protect you from yourself.
Rejection is your enemy, and instead of killing it, you allowed it to push you into the arms of a woman you don’t even desire to have. ”
“Aight. Since you know it all, how the hell am I supposed to break shit off with Katrelle? She’s already dress shopping.”
Kwamé sighed heavily. “Well, you’re definitely not gon’ do it right before Christmas. That sounds like a scary movie waiting to happen.”
“You should come the Christmas Eve party. She’ll be there.” Unfortunately. I’d invited her weeks ago, before I proposed. I would’ve loved to walk inside the party hand in hand with Bianca. Instead, I had a whole damn fiancée to finesse the fuck out of my life.
Bianca’s head finally peaked over the horizon. Standing, I handed Jessie to Kwamé and started walking to meet her. She’d walked a good mile. Carrying her the rest of the way home would be my honor. Damn. If I had things my way, this would be her home forever.
“Uriah Lovelace has to be released, bro,” Kwamé called after me.
“Yeah, I know.”
Letting go of the little boy still resting inside me was a hard pill to swallow. Holding on to him made me feel like I could hold on to the hate of my parents for eternity. I never wanted to forgive those muthafuckas. Letting go of Uriah meant letting go of them. There was no peace in that.
But is there peace in holding on to hatred?
Questioning myself was crazy, considering I knew where the hell I stood with my past. It was ingrained in me. Carving it out of my heart would take a blade of forgiveness that I didn’t possess.
As I neared a slowly moving, sweaty, and heavily breathing Bianca, I considered what life truly would feel like without her.
As I took her into my arms, my answer came when she threw her arms around my neck and laid her head against my body.
If she could be resilient and fight her way back to good health, then I could be resilient and fight the demons of my past.
Later that night, after Bianca was in bed sleeping, I took the time to call Katrelle. She’d been blowing me up all evening.
She answered on the first ring. “Hey!”
“‘Sup?”
“Nothing. I’ve been worried that I haven’t heard from you,” she said.
I didn’t even placate her with an apology I didn’t feel.
“I’ve found some beautiful dresses. Oh! I also found a dress for the Christmas Eve party. It’s beautiful,” she continued.
“Oh, aight. All is well, though?” I asked her.
“Oh…uhm, yes.”
“Cool. I’ll be back in the city in a few days. I’ll see you then, aight?”
Some of her spark returned when she replied, “Okay! See you then.”
I hung up, scrubbed my hand down my face, and blew out a deep breath. Glancing at the time, it was still a little early. Tracing my footsteps back to Bianca’s room, I sat in the recliner and watched her sleep.
Yes, I knew nearly everything about her.
Including her favorite diamonds she loved to wear, her favorite perfume, and her favorite places to shop.
I knew her shoe size, panty size, and the sizes of each of her fingers.
I would slide a ring on all of them if that meant she’d give me just one chance to show her how deep I could love her.