Your Ex My Man

by Sharissa Coles

  As I waited for her response, I noticed her bottom lip start to quiver.

  “Calliope, can you excuse us for a second?” she whispered to her hairstylist. “Can you take everyone outside for a minute? I need to talk to Rashida.”

  Her hairstylist said nothing as she faithfully ushered everyone out of the room. I waited on pins and needles for Ayla to speak, but her emotions got the best of her first. The moment the room emptied, giant tears started streaming down her cheeks.

  “Oh, my gosh,” I said as I jumped up. I grabbed a tissue and began carefully dabbing her cheeks. Never in a million years did I ever think I’d be comforting Ayla Giovanni on her wedding day.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing but a sob escaped.

  “Shh,” I tried calming her down. I rubbed her back, which was the softest yet boniest thing I’d ever felt, and brushed her hair out of her face. “Talk to me.”

  She took several deep breaths as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Even with tear-stained cheeks, she still looked drop dead beautiful.

  “What if I’m making a mistake?” she asked, looking at me through the mirror. “What if marrying Antoine is a mistake?”

  “But you two seem so happy together,” I objected. I couldn’t believe I was talking her into marrying my ex, the one I’d been secretly pining after ever since I found out he was off the market.

  “We are,” she said. “He makes me happy. I just don’t know if he’s the one for me.”

  “He seems like a great guy,” I said. “I think he’d be an awesome father and husband. He’s very loyal.”

  She laughed and dabbed her eyes. “You’re kind to say that, but you don’t even know him. You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

  I wanted to tell her I knew him better than she did, but I zipped my lips.

  “Besides,” she said. “I think he’s in love with someone else.”

  My heart fell to my stomach with those words.

  “Like he’s cheating on you?” I pried. I knew it was none of my business, but this I had to know.

  “No,” she said. “We spend every waking hour together. I know he’s not cheating. I just feel like sometimes he’s thinking about someone else. I can’t explain it. Maybe it’s just me being insecure?”

  “Has he ever mentioned this other person before?” I pried some more.

  “No. Never,” she said, quashing my selfish quest for more information. “I just get the feeling. I can tell he’s been hurt before. Pretty badly. I just think that sort of thing stays with you, you know?”

  If Ayla dumped Antoine on their wedding day, it would rip him apart. It would probably hurt him a million times worse than when I dumped him the year before. I couldn’t let him go through that again. I loved him too much to see him get hurt like that a second time.

  “You’re just getting cold feet,” I said as I patted her back. “Everyone gets cold feet.”

  She dabbed her eyes another time and touched up her makeup.

  “I’ve been feeling this way for a while,” she admitted. “I guess I was too afraid to admit it. I couldn’t even admit it to myself. Then you started asking me those questions. My answers… I knew they weren’t coming from my heart.”

  There was my chance. There was my chance to break them up and to snatch Antoine back up for good. He could’ve been all mine. He would’ve been a wounded little bird and I could’ve saved him. But it wouldn’t have been right.

  “Ayla,” I said. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re just stressed. Nervous. Anxious. Antoine’s a great guy. I’ve seen how you two are around each other. That’s love.”

  “You really think so?” she asked.

  “I know so,” I said.

  “I guess there’s always divorce, right?” she laughed. “Nothing’s truly forever.”

  I thought about how hard it would be on Antoine to marry her and then find out months down road that she never wanted to marry him in the first place. I couldn’t let her make a fool out of him.

  “Ayla,” I said as I placed both hands on her shoulders. “Only marry him if it’s what you really want to do. Don’t marry him if you think you’re just going to divorce him. People will understand if you call the wedding off.”

  “Knock, knock,” called a sing-song voice that could only belong to Julianne. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important. I saw you kicked everyone out.”

  “We were just having some girl talk, Mom,” Ayla said, slapping a smile on her face. She went from zero to sixty just like that. She was a professional at putting on a good face, which only made sense since she worked on television.

  Julianne stood proudly in front of Ayla, taking her in.

  “You look absolutely radiant, my love,” she said as she brushed a hand over Ayla’s cheek. “You’re the most beautiful bride in the entire world.”

  Ayla rested her hand on top of her stepmother’s.

  “Thanks,” she said, gazing up at her.

  “I only wish your mom was here to see this,” Julianne said. “But I know she’s looking down on you, taking in everything. She’d be so proud.”

  “Stop,” Ayla said. “You’re going to make me cry.”

  I never realized that Ayla’s mom had passed away. Now it made perfect sense why she and Julianne were so close. It was a rather sweet bond they had, I had to admit. I just wished Ayla could be honest with her about her reservations. Julianne was such a great sounding board, and I knew she’d put any of Ayla’s issues to rest if she had the chance.

  “So anyway,” Julianne said. “I just went and talked to Antoine. Oh, Ayla, you should see him. He’s just beaming so proudly, ear to ear. He’s so happy. He’s so excited to marry you. He even got a little misty when we talked.”

  “Really?” Ayla asked, as if it had suddenly shifted her back towards wanting to marry him.

  “See,” I said. “I told you he’s going to make a great husband. He loves you so much.”

  “Rashida,” Julianne said as she looked at her watch. “It’s almost time for pictures. Can you run in and get a quick interview with Antoine? We’ve got to get this show on the road!”

  I glanced over at Ayla and raised my eyebrows. If she was going to back out, then was her chance. I lingered for a bit, waiting for her to say something.

  “What are you waiting for?” Ayla said excitedly. “Go talk to him!”

  I knew she was just trying to make Julianne happy, but as I walked away, I wanted to get sick. While I walked towards Antoine’s room, I couldn’t help but feel like I was going to inadvertently spill the beans. It was going to be on the tip of my tongue and I knew it.

  CHAPTER 22

  “Antoine?” I called as I rapped lightly on his door.

  I waited patiently for him to respond before letting myself in. I was sure at this hour he’d be dressed and ready.

  He spun around, his face falling the moment he saw me. He didn’t look too happy to see me.

  “Rashida,” he said. “What are you doing in here?”

  I held up the press card that hung around my neck. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to stop your wedding. I’m here to interview you for the article.”

  “What article?” he asked, his nose scrunched.

  “Didn’t Ayla tell you? They’re featuring your wedding in the Lifestyle weekly,” I said. “Julianne asked me to cover it.”

  “Well isn’t that nice,” he said.

  It was the first time we’d seen each other or spoken since I’d kissed him. I tried to force that moment into the back of my mind, but I just couldn’t let it sit and fester any longer.

  “I’m sorry about the last time I saw you,” I said. “I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  His face softened a bit. He loosened his bow tie and took a gulp of air before sitting down on the edge of a seat.

  “I’m just glad Ayla didn’t see anything,” he said. “She would never have understood.”

  I whipped
out my pen and paper and proceeded to get down to business.

  “These are the same questions I asked Ayla,” I said. “I’m going to work them into the article.”

  “Okay,” he said, his hands resting on his knees as he leaned forward towards me. He was fully engaged and ready to talk about his future wife.

  I rattled off the first one. “When did you first know you wanted to marry Ayla?” For some reason, it was a million times harder to ask Antoine that question than Ayla.

  His face lit up before he answered, and there was no hesitation in his response. “Pretty much from day one. After our first date, I just remember coming home and I couldn’t get her out of my head. It was the happiest I’d been in a very long time.”

  His answer was like a dagger through my heart, but I knew I needed to hear it. I reminded myself that within the hour, I’d be able to meet up with Kevin. Kevin made everything better. Being around him magically made Antoine a non-issue for me.

  “Define the love between you and Ayla,” I said.

  “Sincere,” he started. “Genuine. Unfaltering. Unconditional.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder if his answers were passive aggressive jabs at me, but I refused to let my mind go there. I was working. I had to be professional.

  “Last question: where do you see yourselves in five years?” I asked.

  “We’ll have at least two kids, maybe move to the Midwest. We’ll live in a beautiful house that she designed in a nice little suburb. We’ll have a dog and maybe a cat, and we’ll spend our summer nights at Little League games and drive-in movies.” He said it all with a cheesy grin on his face as he stared off. He’d obviously thought about that before. He could hardly contain his excitement.

  I thought about Ayla and how she was the complete opposite of Antoine just a few minutes ago. She was doubting herself, doubting their love, and doubting if her marriage to him would even last. Who brings up divorce on their wedding day? I quietly started fuming on the inside. Seeing Antoine so happy killed me, but I didn’t want to see him get hurt again.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked me, his head cocked to the side. “You’re breathing really hard.”

  He probably thought it was about him and me. If he only knew.

  “Antoine,” I said, putting down my pen and paper. “Can I talk to you? Off record?”

  “Um, sure,” he said with a slight hesitation.

  “Do you think you’re making the right decision?” I couldn’t believe I was asking him that.

  He scrunched his face. “Of course.”

  I stood up and let my arms fall to my sides. I hung my head and zipped my lips before anything else suddenly came out of them.

  “Just making sure,” I muttered before slipping out the door.

  I exited his room with the worst feeling in the pit of my stomach. They were doomed, I knew it, and there was not a damn thing I could do about it. My eyes scanned the congregation hall as people were beginning to file in and take their seats. It took me a bit, but I finally found Kevin, who was conveniently seated next to Demarius and LaLa.

  I yanked the press card from around my neck, shoved it in my purse, and scooted in next to them.

  “How’d the interviews go?” LaLa asked.

  I bit my lip and shook my head.

  “What the hell does that mean?” she asked.

  Kevin suddenly turned towards me and leaned in. “Yeah, what’s that mean?”

  “I can’t say anything,” I said. “Not here. Not now.”

  Kevin’s eyes widened. “You have to tell us.”

  I looked up at Demarius who was in his own little world. He could’ve given two shits about Ayla and Antoine, and I loved that about him. LaLa was lucky.

  “I just think one of the two of them are having reservations,” I said. “I’ll tell you guys later. Doesn’t matter now anyway. Wedding’s about to start.”

  I tried to wave them off, but Kevin seemed a little unsettled. I figured after our heart to heart that he was moving on from Ayla just as I’d agreed to move on from Antoine, but now I was second guessing everything.

  The pews filled more and more with each passing minute as organ music began to lilt through the air. We couldn’t have talked if we wanted to. The ceremony was in full force.

  CHAPTER 23

  One by one, Ayla’s cousins shuffled down the aisle linked arm in arm with Antoine’s men. I recognized his brother, his stepbrother, his cousin, and his best friend. There was another guy I didn’t recognize, but he looked an awful lot like Ayla. It was probably her brother.

  I reached down to grab a program out of Kevin’s hand, but he was clutching it tightly.

  The bridesmaids carried enormous bouquets of white and blue flowers, which contrasted beautifully against their champagne-colored dresses. Not one of Ayla’s cousins could hold even half a flame to Ayla’s beauty, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she wanted it that way. Ayla loved to have all eyes on her.

  I glanced over at Kevin, who hadn’t eased up once from his program. He studied that thing like a hawk, or at least it looked like he was.

  I whipped my pen and notebook out of my purse and began jotting a few notes about the bridesmaid dresses and bouquets. My mind was elsewhere, and I knew I wouldn’t remember a lot of this stuff come Monday morning.

  As soon as the last bridesmaid and groomsman took their places, the church organ began to play the Wedding March. Church pews creaked as everyone stood up and turned towards the back of the hall where Ayla stood linked with her father. A sheer veil covered her gorgeous face as her father beamed proudly. Together they walked the long road to the front of the church where Antoine, smiling like a fool in love, waited.

  As everyone else was focused on Ayla’s entrance, I was focused on Kevin. His entire demeanor had changed at the mention of someone having cold feet. In the back of my mind, I knew he wasn’t over her. I was an idiot to believe him for one second.

  “Who gives this woman to be wedded to this man?” the balding, white-haired preacher in a long gold robe asked. His voice echoed over the speakers and filled every corner of the room.

  “Her mother and I do,” Ayla’s father said as he nodded towards Julianne. For the first time ever, I saw Julianne with tears in her eyes.

  Ayla’s father lifted her veil, kissed her sweetly on the cheek, and then placed her hand in Antoine’s. From six rows back, I could tell that Ayla was almost avoiding Antoine’s eyes. She could hardly look at him. I saw her long, pretty lashes batting wildly, and I knew she was fighting off tears. The only question was whether they were happy tears or sad ones.

  I watched as Antoine squeezed Ayla’s hands quickly to get her attention. As soon as she looked up at him he mouthed “I love you”. She smiled, but didn’t return the sweet gesture.

  On the inside, I was cringing. It was like watching a train wreck about to happen. Ayla clearly wasn’t happy, but somehow I felt like I was the only one who noticed. That was, until I looked over at Kevin. His watchful eyes were all over Ayla, taking in her every breath and every move. It was like he was analyzing her.

  I reached down and took Kevin’s hand in an attempt to remind him that he and I were in this together. It wasn’t easy watching our ex loves marry each other. I hoped he remembered our conversation about being secondhand. He held my hand back but the embrace was loose and cheap. He wasn’t in it with me. That was my final confirmation.

  I felt the pew shake a bit as his left leg started to bounce. He was nervous. He was thinking about something. He bit the nails on his free hand. I’d never seen him like this before. He’d always been so calm and together.

  “Friends,” the pastor continued. “We have been gathered here today to celebrate the holy matrimony of Ayla Grace Giovanni and Samuel William Jackson. Marriage is not to be entered into lightly, but reverently and discreetly and advisedly. Into this holy estate, these two people present now come to be joined.”

  I glanced at Kevin again, who was now sweating bullets and
getting antsier by the second. I nudged LaLa on my right and directed my eyes back towards Kevin. She shot me a “What the hell?” look, and I shrugged in return.

  LaLa shook her head as if to tell me I’d lost him, he was a goner, and I’d never be able to fill Ayla’s shoes, and I knew right then and there that LaLa was right.

  I slipped my hand out from under Kevin’s and placed it folded neatly in my lap. He didn’t even notice. He gripped the seat of the pew as his leg bounced and he shifted the weight of his body back and forth.