by Nia Arthurs
The first time I met Zora, she seemed so hard, brusque and prickly. Now that I know her better, she’s like an ornery child trapped in an adult’s body—more bark than bite.
“Just… notes.”
That’s all I’m getting for now.
I know better than to push her so I turn the radio on and let a soulful love song fill the silence as we drive to the restaurant. The moment I stop in the lot, I pop out of the car and open her door.
Zora gets out and shoots me an amused look. “You don’t have to keep doing that.”
“I want to.”
“For me or the baby?”
“Can’t I say both?”
“Hm…” She narrows her eyes.
I smile at her. “Come on. The faster we get inside, the faster we can eat.”
Zora needs no extra incentive and eagerly follows me up the stairs. After we’re seated and give our orders, we snack on the corn chips stationed in the middle of our table.
The restaurant is mostly empty, which makes it feel private and intimate. The lights are dim and the golden bulb above glistens on Zora’s brown skin, turning it to bronze.
We exchange small talk about our day while we wait for the food, but there’s an elephant sitting at the table.
I clear my throat. Squirm. Take a sip of water. When the silence stretches into awkwardness, I set my glass down and look at her. “So… about my question the other day.”
“Ah yes. Your marriage proposal.”
“Have you thought about it?”
“Yes, I have.” Zora sits there, staring at me. She’s intentionally drawing the moment out. Making me beg for it.
“And… what have you decided?”
“My answer is yes.”
My heart stutters. I blink. “Did you just agree?”
“I’ll marry you.” She nods. “In two years.”
“Wha—two years? Then you’re saying no.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Yes.”
I shake my head to clear it. “You’ll marry me.”
She nods.
“In two years.”
“That’s right.” She smiles. “Should we break out the champagne?”
“Is this a joke?”
“No joke. I’ll marry you. If we’re still together then. For now, let’s date.”
“I asked you to marry me and you’re asking me out instead.”
“Mm-hm.”
I run a hand through my hair, struggling to wrap my brain around her answer. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m attracted to you. Obviously. And I want to get to know you better, but marrying now… we would be doing it for the wrong reasons. Plus…” Her gaze skitters. “I want you to have a way out in case you and Violet—”
“There is no me and Violet,” I say intently.
“Still, I prefer it this way. Then, if we marry, I won’t have to worry about finding a dress while I’m blowing up.” She pats her rounded stomach.
I settle into my seat and think it over. This isn’t what I wanted, but I see her point. Finally, I jerk my chin down. “Then my answer is yes.”
“To what?”
“You asked me out, remember?”
Her grin climbs. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
Chapter Sixteen
Zora
I’ve only ever had one boyfriend. Plenty of crushes growing up gave me a hard pass when they found out Thomas was my brother. Back then and now, he was annoyingly overprotective.
Keanu was the only one who didn’t seem to care. He slipped into my life and took over faster than I could blink. The next thing I knew, I was desperately in love with him. Blinded by him.
It got so bad, I actively waited for him to finish cheating on me so we could be together. I remember calling his other girlfriend, asking when she’d leave Belize so I had a date to hold on to.
Yup, I was that dumb, that desperate.
Keanu scarred me. Made me jaded. Bitter.
I felt like the movies had lied to me. Love was supposed to be bouncy and bright. Instead, mine was passionate, turbulent, and painful. I cried a lot. I often felt afraid, insecure, and worthless. So worthless.
Not exactly the stuff a cheesy rom-com is made of.
My innocent, youthful romance turned into a bad soap opera, but deep in my heart, I’m still that eighteen-year-old girl who wants to be whisked off her feet. Who wants to be the princess, the Cinderella.
I don’t want to be Warrior Zora all the time. I want to spoil my man and make him feel honored and cherished. I want to be honored and cherished in return.
Is that really too much to ask?
Given the divorce rate, the answer is ‘yes’. Still, I’m willing to risk it all again.
Wilson’s marriage proposal was yet another desperate attempt to distract himself from Violet. I know that, but I want to give him a shot. To win my heart. To study his.
And whether or not we work out, at least I tried.
“Alright…” I adjust the tray holding a plate of scrambled eggs, fried jack and beans and knock on Wilson’s door.
“Just a minute!” he calls out, his voice muffled. I step forward when he opens up. His brown eyes fall on me and then widen in shock. “Zora?”
“The eggs you saw last time were not a good representation of my skills. I’ve come for a rematch.”
Understanding dawns and the most handsome smile spreads on his face. “You really wanna do this?”
“Bring it on, Barton.”
He arches an eyebrow but takes the tray from me. “Come in.”
I slip inside, my gaze roving his bachelor pad. It’s messy. Way messier than I’d expected it to be. Sheets of paper are everywhere—pinned to the walls, littering the sofa, on top of the coffee table.
“Sorry about the chaos,” Wilson says, setting the tray on the dinning room table, which is littered with its own share of paper work.
“It’s okay.” I pick up a sheet and try to read it but my eyes kind of cross and I set it down. “Are you and Kent close to finishing the app?”
“There are a few bugs we’re trying to work through. Hopefully, we finish soon.”
“Then you’re heading back to the States?” I ask.
“Nah.” He clears a seat for me around the table and gestures to it. “I plan to hang around until the birth.”
“So you can handle being inside the room when the baby comes?”
He pales. “Could we… not discuss that right before breakfast? I’m having flashbacks.”
I laugh at his squeamish expression and take my seat. Wilson sits beside me and grabs the fork I left in the tray. He takes a bite of my eggs and chews thoughtfully.
“Well?”
“It’s got good texture, nice flavor.” He swallows and pins me with a confident look. “But mine is better.”
“You wish!”
“That’s the truth.”
“You’re biased.” I snort. “We need a more objective judge.”
“Name the time and place. I’ll be ready.”
“You’re cute when you’re delusional.”
He looks me up and down with obvious admiration. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
We fall silent. Just sit there, staring and smiling at each other like a pair of idiots.
I break my gaze first. “Well, I should get to work.”
Wilson stuffs toast into his mouth. “I’ll drop you off.”
“It’s fine. Finish your breakfast.”
He doesn’t even look at me, just heads for his keys and swipes them up. “I’ll finish it when I get back. Promise.”
Despite my protests, Wilson ushers me into his car. On the way, we listen to morning talk shows and enjoy the sunshine. The ride is comfortable, easy. Like we’ve done it a million times.
I glance away from the window and admire him. Wilson’s profile is freakin’ astonishing. He’s got that rugged, lumberjack-in-a-suit sort of swag.
He notices me watc
hing and gives me a quick look. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar. You were checking me out.”
I cough.
“It’s okay.” He rubs his jaw and gives the windshield a smoldering stare. “You can look all you want.”
I swat his arm. “Be careful. If your head gets any bigger, you might not be able to get out of the car.”
“Very funny.” Wilson parks in front of the hospital.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“Sure.”
I climb out but when Wilson calls my name, I duck back down and stare through the window.
“Thanks for breakfast,” he says. “I love seeing you first thing in the morning.”
If I had lighter skin, I’d blush beneath that intense gaze. “Y-you’re welcome. See yah.”
My heart thundering in my chest, I whirl around, grab the strap of my purse and hurry into the hospital. I fly straight to the bathroom and splash my face with water.
That man should come with a warning label. May Cause Women To Combust. No wonder I jumped him the moment my inhibitions were down.
I fan my face for a minute. When I’m composed, I slip out of the bathroom and head to the lockers to stow my purse away. Just before I stuff the bag into the cavern, my phone chirps.
Thinking it’s Wilson, I pluck it out with a huge smile on my face. That grin collapses into a frown when I read the messages that pop up.
KEANU: Did you get my flowers?
I scoff and prepare to shoot the phone back into my pocket when there’s another ‘ping’.
KEANU: I want to see you.
KEANU: If you don’t respond, I’m coming to the hospital.
No way. Keanu’s been known to make a scene and my boss warned me that I’d be penalized the next time it happens.
I scramble to dial his number and when he picks up, I snap at him. “Normally, when someone ignores you it means they don’t want to talk.”
“I missed your voice, Zo.”
His rumble fills me with a familiar spark. My heart quickens. I strain to brush it off. “What do you want?”
“To see you.”
“And if I say no?”
“I’ll make it happen. One way or the other.”
Again, I get the sense that it’s more of a threat than an innocent plea. The tingles fade giving place to genuine fear. Keanu never hit me, but when he got jealous… I was often afraid that he would hurt the innocent guy he caught me talking to.
“Fine. Just this once. I’ll hear you out and then you never call me again.”
“Great.” His voice is upbeat as if he discarded the last part of my statement and kept the first. “Come to the park beside Queen Hotel.”
“The park?” I hear someone shuffling into the locker room. Eager to end the conversation, I agree. “Alright. See you then.”
Gretchen pokes her head into the room as soon as I slip my phone into my purse. “Who was that?”
“No one,” I answer quickly. “Come on. Let’s get to work.”
I’m distracted and jittery all day. It’s hard to pull myself together but, somehow, I make it to the end of my shift without killing anyone and grab a taxi to the park.
It’s a gorgeous sight. The sun is just beginning to set on Belize City. The wind rushes through the coconut trees standing sentinel all around the lawn.
Children squeal as they enjoy the playground, while evening joggers hustle by in tight pants and headbands. The bar on the end of the pier is open and playing loud reggae music. I recognize one of Amaya’s songs riding the breeze.
A cursory sweep reveals Keanu sitting beneath one of the cabanas perched on the end of the beach. I walk toward him. The waves grow louder the closer I get. The stormy Caribbean Sea is a perfect reflection of my heart.
I feel uneasy for some reason, but I keep walking forward. Keanu won’t leave me alone unless I give him what he wants. After he says his piece, I’ll end it cleanly.
“Keanu.” I slap my purse on top of the table and sink onto the wooden stool. “I’m here.”
He smiles, showing of his pearly white teeth. “Zo.”
“I told you to stop calling me that.”
“Sorry. It’s just habit.” He stares at me, as if drinking me in with his eyes. “Damn, girl. You’re so beautiful. Your body…” his gaze lingers on my chest, “it’s sexier. I like it.”
I squirm, uncomfortable beneath his gaze. “What did you want to say?”
“How have you been?”
“Fine.”
“I’ve been working overseas for the past few months that’s why I didn’t call you.”
He must have been screwing girls overseas too, but I’m sure he’ll leave that part unsaid.
I hate that the sight of him still makes me nervous. Because that means I’m still affected by him. Even after all he’s done to me.
Keanu reaches over the table and clings to my hand. There’s no electricity. Not the way there used to be, but the memories are enough. Just one touch from Keanu used to unravel me like a string.
“I want to be with you. So bad. All I could think about these past few months was holding you.”
My breath hitches.
I hate myself right now. And I hate that stupid eighteen-year-old girl who couldn’t let go of a bad thing. But as much as his words are moving me, I’m not living for one anymore.
I’m living for two.
Maybe when I was younger and immature, that line would have torn my clothes off and eased me into bed, but right now getting involved with Keanu’s drama won’t be good for me or the baby.
And nothing can happen to this child.
I pull my hand away from his. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same way.”
“Yeah, right.” He leans back as if my sun rises and sets with him so any other explanation won’t register.
“I mean it, Keanu. When you left last year, I told you it was over. That hasn’t changed.”
“Yeah, but I already explained to you why—”
“It doesn’t matter what your stupid excuses are,” I snap. “I’ve moved on.”
“With who? That white joker from your apartment? He can’t handle you like I can, Zo.”
I lean back. “First of all, I’m a person not an object that you ‘handle’. Second, he’s not a joker. He’s the kind of man who loves one woman all his life.”
“So what? Are you saying the baby’s his?”
My jaw slacks. “Did you think it was yours?”
He shrugs. “Well, yeah.”
I am at a complete loss. Keanu might not be the brightest crayon in the set, but he graduated junior college where we learned basic biology.
“I’m a little over two months pregnant, Keanu. This isn’t your baby.”
His eyes flash. Darken. It’s like seeing the villain unveil himself at the end of a predictable film. Except this isn’t a movie. This is my life, and I suddenly fear for it.
His fingers curl into fists and he half-rises from the table. “Are you saying you’re having a baby for that white guy?”
“Okay,” I climb off the stool and back away, “this was a waste of time. I’m going to leave.”
Keanu’s beside me in a blink. He grabs my hand. “No, you’re not.”
“Let me go.”
He shakes me instead. “That’s my baby, do you hear me?”
“Keanu!” I scream, panic clawing up my throat. “You’re hurting me!”
“Let her go.”
Both Keanu and I freeze.
I glance up. I know that voice.
Wilson.
Chapter Seventeen
Wilson
The fury storming through my veins is instinctive. Irrational. My eyes are stuck on Keanu’s thick fingers clamped over Zora’s wrist. I hear her pained moan like she whispered it to me. The sound squeezes my chest tight.
I suddenly understand why Thomas keeps grabbing his enemies by the neck. That’s exactly what I want to do to this punk
. Grab him right by the throat and watch him squirm until he regrets even thinking of hurting Zora.
“Let. Her. Go,” I bite out.
Keanu glances over, disdain glittering in his dark eyes.
I stare right at him, letting the threat behind my tone shine through my gaze. My fingers curl into fists. The wind blows stiffly over us, and the sun plummets beneath the sea, leaving startling darkness in its wake.
I size Keanu up, searching for a weakness I can attack without getting Zora hurt in the process. My mind zips through a flurry of techniques, but Keanu’s got her sandwiched between us. It’s too risky to fight him here.
But I’m itching to.
I started boxing to keep myself from falling all over Violet when she came back from college.
That’s the reason.
It wasn’t to curb my anger or teach me discipline or any such noble notion. I have absolutely no qualms about pounding Keanu into the dirt. In fact, it would be a pleasure.
“Wilson?” Zora croaks my name. Her voice is trembling—from fear or relief. I’m not sure.
My eyes zip to hers. The lamppost flickers on, directly over her head. Her brown eyes are wide. Filled with… is that shame? Why would she feel ashamed?
Keanu jerks her around, breaking our connection and dragging my gaze back to him. He frowns. “This has nothing to do with you, Whitey.”
“Whitey? Is that the best you could come up with?”
“Like I said, this is a private conversation.”
“Let Zora go first and then we can have a conversation. For as long as you want, since you like talking so much.”
Keanu chuckles darkly and tosses Zora’s hand. She stumbles forward but catches her footing and remains upright. I take one step toward her, more concerned with checking that she’s okay than fooling with Keanu.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t give me a chance to get close to Zora. He steps in front of her, as if he’s the one protecting her from me.
I stop short and catch Zora’s eye. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She blows out a breath, but she’s massaging her hand, holding it delicately.
The anger surges through me again. “You hurt her.”
