by Pamela Yaye
“Do we have to listen to this?” Tangela asked, clicking on her seat belt. They were going to Belle Bridal for another dress fitting, and she didn’t want this slow, gloomy melody playing in her head for the rest of the afternoon. “No offense, Sage, but this song is really depressing.”
“Well, that’s what the blues is,” she explained with a shrug. “It’s about a good woman feeling bad, and I couldn’t feel any worse than I do right now. In an odd way, the song is starting to bring me out of my funk.”
They drove in silence for several minutes. When they reached the next intersection, Sage slid open her cell phone and scrolled through the phone book.
“Who are you calling?”
“The hospital. I want to make sure Khari got the package I sent.”
Tangela swallowed an objection. Sage called the hospital every hour, on the hour and had spent hundreds of dollars on flowers, balloons, candy and care packages stuffed with video games, T-shirts and sports magazines.
Turning down the music, she leaned back in her seat, and studied her girlfriend’s profile. Hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, her face flawlessly made-up, and clad in a lightweight plum-colored dress, it was hard to believe she’d once worked three minimum wage jobs just to make ends meet. Now look at her. She could afford to dine in class, was financially stable and had a successful career. All she needed now was the right man to complete the picture. Tangela stared down at her engagement ring, doubts about her future consuming her thoughts. Her relationship with Warrick was in trouble, but now was not the time to discuss it. She needed to be there for her best friend.
“How’s Khari doing?” she asked when Sage ended her call.
“Much better.” She released a deep sigh. “I feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest. It’s such a relief, knowing Khari’s walking around and joking with the hospital staff. I’ve been worried sick about him.”
“And I’m worried about you. How are you holding up?”
“I’m not the one laid up in Cedars-Sinai.” Her tone had a bitter, ugly edge to it. “The most important thing is that Khari gets better so he can go home.”
“How do you feel about them leaving?”
Sage was on autopilot. She didn’t know what to feel or think anymore, but she said, “I’m happy.”
“Have you given any more thought to going by for a visit?”
“Marshall doesn’t want me there, and I have to respect his wishes. That’s the least I can do. It’s my fault Khari’s in the hospital in the first place.”
“No, it’s not. It’s that idiot driver. Sage, this isn’t healthy. You have to stop blaming yourself. You had Khari upgraded to a private room and paid for their hotel suite. I think you’ve done more than enough.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“You should go see them.”
She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “It’s not going to happen.”
“I’m surprised at you, Sage. I never imagined you’d give up so easily.”
Her eyes watered. What Tangela didn’t know was that she had tried reaching out to Marshall. In the last week, she must have called his cell phone fifty times. In a moment of weakness, she had even called Mr. and Mrs. Grant and asked them to speak to him on her behalf. Four days later, and still no word.
Fingering the pendant around her neck, she allowed her mind to replay the night Marshall had surprised her with it. It was a Wednesday night, and they’d spent the evening making homemade pizza and watching TV. Sage didn’t know what had brought out the beast in him, but they’d braved rug burn and made love on the living-room floor. Afterward they’d returned to the bedroom and spent the rest of the night talking about everything and nothing: their all-time favorite songs, extreme sports they were anxious to try and most importantly, how committed they were to making their relationship work. And just when Sage didn’t think she could possibly love him more, he’d slipped a hand under her pillow and handed her a tiny, blue jewelry box. Inside was a diamond chain, the heart-shaped pendant twinkling brilliantly in the moonlight.
“I wanted to buy you that purse, you know the black one with the shiny buckles, but I couldn’t find it at—”
Sage cut him off. “I love it, Marshall. It’s gorgeous,” she gushed, fixing the clasp around her neck. “I’m never, ever taking it off!”
As she clutched the pendant now, she was struck by how sad she felt. It was in that moment that the reality of the situation finally hit her. They were over. Marshall was gone. Out of her life forever. There were a million and one reasons why they were better off going their separate ways, but she didn’t consider any of them.
“I met the most charming woman on my flight from London last week,” Tangela said, turning to look at Sage. “She’s Portuguese, and her English wasn’t very good, but she told me an incredibly touching story about her youngest daughter, Francesca. Five years ago, Francesca, met a struggling artist from Greece while traveling through the Netherlands. They had a passionate six-week affair and, on a whim, decided to get married. ButYanni doesn’t show up at the appointed time. Francesca waits for hours and hours, but no Yanni.”
“Is this story going somewhere, or are you just exercising your lungs again?” Sage asked, rolling her eyes behind the safety of her Jackie O–inspired sunglasses.
“I’m getting to it.” Her voice was rife with annoyance, but took on a sweet, melodious tone when she continued. “Francesca returns to New York heartbroken, but determined to move on with her life and find love again. Two years later, she’s at Grand Central Station, having lunch with her boyfriend at a ritzy Italian café, and in walks Yanni. Their eyes meet across the crowded room and all those hidden feelings rise to the surface. Francesca realizes that she still loves him. That she’s always loved him.”
Sage held her breath. Tangela had sucked her in, and now she was anxious to hear the rest of the story. “Well, what happened? Did she talk to him?”
Tangela shook her head sadly.
“That’s it? That’s how the story ends?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You said it was a touching story. It’s not. Francesca doesn’t know why he stood her up, and even worse, she’ll never know what could have…” Sage trailed off. That could be her. She could be Francesca. Wondering, pondering, lamenting over what could have been. There was only one thing to do: clear her name. If Marshall didn’t want her, fine, but he had to know the truth. And it had to come from her.
Sage stared out of the windshield, her mind racing from one thought to the next. Five years from now, she would be a lonely, bitter woman, still carrying a torch for Marshall. Wasn’t their relationship worth fighting for? Didn’t she deserve to be happy?
She was perfectly fine by herself and didn’t need a man to validate her, but she loved Marshall with all her heart. Being in a relationship backed by love and support made her feel like she could do anything. Her eyes pooled with water, but she blinked her tears away. This was crazy! Crying because she missed someone, a man no less. Insane!
Never had she imagined loving someone this much. Or knowing someone so intimately, so deeply. Images of him—cooking, rock-climbing, skiing—turned over in her head like the pages of a scrapbook. Overcome by unfading memories, she realized that dating him had been the best thing to ever happen to her. Four months ago, she was a single, carefree girl, just trying to get a promotion, and now she had a family. Marshall and Khari spoiled her, indulged her and treated her with the utmost respect. And she couldn’t live without them.
Excitement flashed in her eyes. This wasn’t over. Marshall had fallen in love with her, then bailed. His decision to call it quits was impetuous. Rash. Foolish. They were good together. Hell, he’d said so himself. So they’d hit a rough patch. It didn’t mean they should throw away a perfectly good relationship.
An electric current zipped up her spine at the thought of seeing him again. Marshall was no ordinary guy. He listened to her, gave thoughtful answers to her questions, and
she loved every delectable thing about him: his strong, assertive nature, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed and the deep, guttural moans that spilled from his mouth when she touched him there. Marshall Grant was her soul mate, her one and only, and she wasn’t going down without a fight. Things could blow up in her face, but it was a chance she was willing to take.
“Hold on!” she hollered, bolting upright. Gripping the steering wheel, she did a U-turn at the intersection and stepped hard on the gas.
“What are you doing?” Tangela was clutching her seat belt, a horrified expression on her face. “This is not the way to Belle Bridal!”
Sage wore a cheeky smile. “I’m going to get my man!”
Chapter 26
“I’m disappointed in you, son.”
Marshall choked down the rest of his coffee. He didn’t want to have this conversation with his dad, not today, not at a crummy diner two blocks over from the hospital, not when he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wanted to talk about the weather or the World Series. Anything but his defunct relationship.
“Dad, she lied.”
“And?”
He saw the challenge in his father’s eyes, but refused to pick up the gauntlet. The minute he called and told his parents about the accident, they’d hopped a plane to L.A. and set up camp in Khari’s hospital room. They’d stayed at their grandson’s side for nine hours straight, and Marshall could still see the effects of the sleepless nights on his father’s face. “Sage should never have left Khari at Renegade’s house. None of this would have happened if he had stayed at the hotel where he belonged.”
“Son, I’m not saying what she did was right. It wasn’t. She should have told you were Khari was, instead of keeping it from you.” He sliced his pancake in half and stuck a piece in his mouth. “But you have to look at her intentions. Do you really think she was trying to hurt you? Or Khari?”
“No,” he conceded, “but truth is the foundation of every good relationship. If I can’t trust her, then how are we going to have a future together?”
The waitress trudged over, refilled their coffee mugs and shuffled off.
“We’re talking apples and oranges, son. I’m not telling you to propose.” He added, “Although, I wouldn’t be against it if you did. I think she’d make a great daughter-in-law. And like Grandma Vera says, the two of you would make us some pretty grandbabies!”
Marshall pushed his scrambled eggs around his plate with his fork. “Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s not going to happen.”
Undeterred, his father continued. “I like Sage. She’s got spunk and charisma and she thinks for herself.”
“Dad, you’re overlooking what she did. She lied to me, about really important things—her identity and my son.” He held up three fingers. “Not once, not twice—hell, I don’t even know what the truth is anymore. Her real name might not even be Sage!”
“You’ve been watching too much A & E.” Mr. Grant chuckled. “I’m not overlooking anything, son. I’ve measured both sides of the fence and they’re not equal. She’s made some mistakes, but I can see how much she loves you and Khari. Look at all the things she’s done. She helped Khari improve his grades, arranged meetings with all those illustrious university officials and put you up in that fancy hotel.”
“Well…yeah. But…” Words didn’t come. His father was right. Sage wasn’t perfect, but she had always been good to him. Spoiled him, even. Comfortable in her own skin and at ease with herself, she’d given him the space he needed to hang out with his friends, had renewed his faith in true love and valued his opinion, even if she didn’t agree with him. They’d come a long way since he’d caught her thrashing that machine, and even though it was over between them, he’d always love her.
“Take it from a man who’s been around the block a few times, a good woman is hard to find. A sexy body and a beautiful smile is just the bait. Her nature, her aura, her spirit, that’s where the substance is. That means something. It’s those inner qualities that keep a relationship strong and intact, no matter what life throws your way.”
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll keep that in mind. So, when are you and Mom leaving?”
Mr. Grant stayed the course. “Call her. If you don’t, you might live to regret it. She apologized and you should forgive her.”
“I can’t.”
“Marshall, you haven’t done everything right in life, have you? I remember a particular someone stealing my car keys and going joyriding with his friends back in the day.” He smiled. “And how about the time you cut class to go see Rambo?”
“Dad, I was fifteen!” Despite himself, he chuckled.
Two days after the accident, Khari had come around, groaning in pain, and to everyone’s surprise, asking for Sage. Later that day, he told his family what had happened at Renegade’s party and accepted full responsibility for ditching the taxi and riding with the rapper’s crew. Sage hadn’t abandoned him as Marshall originally thought. She’d stayed by his side, making sure he didn’t drink or disappear into one of the back rooms. And when Khari extracted a crumpled Ali poster from his jacket pocket, signed by Will Smith, Marshall’s heart deflated. Not only had he shouted at Sage and ordered her to leave the hospital, he’d made her cry. The image of her pretty face wet with tears was burned into his memory, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t erase it.
Wild with rage, he’d lashed out at her, pushing her away when he needed her support and love the most. Turning toward the dirty, streaky window, he studied his reflection. A haggard-looking man with a stubby chin, and flat, lifeless eyes stared back at him. Marshall felt like he’d aged twenty years in the last ten days. And he had.
“We’ve all done things were not proud of, son. Are you forgetting that I played thirteen seasons in the major leagues? If your mother had left me every time I screwed up, you wouldn’t be here.”
Releasing a deep sigh, he rubbed a hand over his chin. The last time his father had given him advice about women he hadn’t listened, and Roxanne had ended up pregnant. But it didn’t mean he was going to work things out with Sage. It was over, and nothing his dad said would change his mind. “This nightmare will all be over in a few hours.”
“That’s it?” His father wiped his mouth and threw down his napkin.
“What more is there?”
“Khari misses Sage, and so do you.”
“There’s nothing I can do about that.”
“I’m not telling you what to do, Marshall. You’re a grown man, free to make your own decisions. I just hate to see you all broken up over this.”
“No one’s broken up over anything, Dad.” He shook his head. “You make me sound like a punk or something.”
“Is that what you think? Admitting you were wrong doesn’t make you any less of a man.” Mr. Grant chuckled. “Quit listening to Denzel and Roderick. Sage was right, their bad habits are rubbing off on you!”
Marshall concealed a smile.
“The choice is yours to make, and no matter what you decide to do, we’re behind you one hundred percent.”
“Khari, Al’s Diner didn’t have any turkey burgers, so I got you a—” The words died on Marshall’s lips when he saw the empty bed. Assuming his son was in the bathroom, he plopped the paper bag down on the table and turned toward the couch. He almost tripped over his feet. Sage was standing beside the window, looking every bit as gorgeous as he remembered. He felt like he was going to melt and implode at the same time. His heart pounding, he swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to look as normal as possible. Marshall didn’t know why he was surprised to see her. Sage didn’t scare easily, and he knew it was just a matter of time before she came by to see Khari.
“It’s good to see you,” he confessed, admiring the way her dress hugged her bountiful curves. Her slightly tousled hair and red, pouty lips made him want to crush her to his chest and ravish her with his hands and mouth.
His gaze pierced her, but she didn’t look away. Sage didn’t th
ink it was possible, but her love for him had grown, and she ached to touch him. Fourteen days was a long time to live without him. She policed her thoughts as sexual nostalgia washed over her. No sense getting carried away. She was here to apologize, not examine how sexy he looked in his blue polo shirt and jean shorts. “Khari and your mom went to the gift shop.”
“Renegade came by yesterday,” he said after a long, awkward silence. “I thought it was a publicity stunt or something, but there were no cameras or reporters. He visited with Khari for a while before going to see his friends.”
Motioning for her to sit down, he sat beside her on the couch. A week ago, he’d complained about the cost of a private room, but now he was grateful he could talk to Sage in private without fear of being overheard. “How have you been?”
“All right, busy helping Tangela with the wedding.”
“Everything okay at work?”
Her eyebrows spiked. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to answer a question with a question?”
Sage smiled.
“I phoned a couple hours ago and Cashmere said you hadn’t been in all week.”
“You called? What for?”
“I thought maybe we should talk.” Marshall rubbed his palms over his jeans. The air was filled with tension and unanswered questions weighed on his heart and mind.
She had the sense that he was waiting for her to say something. Facing him, she spoke from the heart. “I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. I’m sorry about what happened. Leaving Khari at Renegade’s birthday party was irresponsible, risky and foolish, and I’m deeply sorry for all the pain and stress I’ve caused your family.”
“Khari told me about Coach Conway and how you helped him apply to other colleges.” He added, “He said you arranged a ride for him before you left the party.”
“I should never have let him stay. I should have brought him back to the hotel with me. I was anxious to see you and wasn’t thinking straight.”
