by Nia Arthurs
“What I do to and with Zora is none of your damn business,” Keanu spits.
“I’ll show you what’s my business—”
“That’s enough.” Zora holds her head high and strides ahead of Keanu. She stops, turns and glares at her ex. “I came. I heard what you had to say, but I don’t want you back. I’m moving forward with my life.”
“But Zo, we belong together.”
I snort.
Keanu ignores me, his entire being focused on Zora. “You’re the only woman who understands that I’m broken. The only one who showed me love. Real love. We’re connected. You know that.”
“You broke that connection when you cheated on me.”
“It was a mistake.”
“Enough.”
“Zo—”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I’ve changed. I swear I—”
With more fire than I expected of her, Zora snaps at him. “I said we’re done.”
Keanu sneers. “No, we’re not.”
“Excuse me?” I step forward. “Are you deaf? She said you’re done.”
“Get out of my face.” He shoves me.
Naturally, I shove him back.
Before we can get into a full-blown brawl, a police officer appears. “Is there a problem?”
“No problem, Officer,” Zora says. She grabs my arm and tugs. “We’re leaving.”
I let her yank me away, my gaze still locked on Keanu who is staring at us with such contempt I want to shake Zora off and hurl myself at him properly.
But that would be selfish.
Zora’s hurt. Shaken. Embarrassed. She’s my number one priority and it seems her priority is scrambling out of the park as quickly as possible.
I take the lead and open the car door for her. She slides in and, when I enter around the other side, I find her staring out the window. She’s quiet. Contemplative. At least that’s what I assume. I can’t see her face.
As I drive away, a million questions parade through my head, but interrogating her would be counter-productive. Instead, I turn the radio on and let the music fill the cab.
It’s a reggae song. Not Amaya’s. Thanks to Kent, I know almost all of his wife’s songs by heart. The bass fills my chest. The melody worms its way beneath my skin and calms me down.
By the time I park in front of the apartment building with the glowing porch lights and the well-kept lawn, my rage has transformed into empathy.
Whatever the reason, meeting Keanu tonight must have been hard and confusing for Zora.
“Hey,” I take her hand when she moves to enter her own apartment, “can I see you a minute?”
“Wilson, I’m really tired—”
“It won’t take long.” I gently tug her into my place and lead her to my bedroom.
Zora turns skittish. “Wh-what are you doing?”
“Hold on a minute.” I grab the Bengay cream and gauze from the First Aid kit in the office and kneel before her.
“Why do you have a First Aid kit in your house?”
“For Kent,” I explain, pouring a generous amount of the cream into my palm. It causes my skin to tingle, but I ignore the sensation and rub Zora’s wrist.
“And the Bengay?”
“I spend all day typing at the computer, and my hands can’t always handle it.”
“Ah.”
I gently rub the cream around her wrist. “Does it hurt?”
She shakes her head.
I finish with that and unroll the gauze, taping up her hand. “Too tight?”
“No. It’s okay.”
I finish up and then take her fingers. Remaining on my knees, I glance at her face. “It might still bruise, but that should help the pain for now. Tell me if it’s still throbbing. I’ll apply more.”
“Thank you,” she whispers. Glances away. “I’m sorry.”
I rest my arm on top of my knee. “Sorry? For what?”
“Keanu’s a jerk. What he did tonight… I must have been crazy for loving him.”
“His behavior is not a reflection of you. He’s the crazy one for letting you go.”
“Please, I’m not all that.”
“What?” My brows hunker over my eyes. “Zora, you’re kind, beautiful, smart, loving—”
“Me? Loving?”
She looks genuinely shocked. I lean forward. “What do you call bringing someone breakfast early in the morning? Or making sure they have a ride to the airport when they’re late for a flight?”
“That was… nothing.”
“No, Zora. That was everything.” I squeeze her hand. “You saved Kent when he was bleeding out on the street.”
“I sew up stab wounds everyday. And technically, Amaya helped too.” She smiles softly.
“You spent weeks researching the surgery that ultimately saved Kent’s life.”
She sucks her bottom lip. “That I did.”
My gaze slips to her mouth but I force it back to her eyes to keep from getting distracted. “Whether you mean to or not, try and cover it under sarcasm and sass, love just pours out of you. Which is why Keanu’s the idiot. Not you.”
She inhales and then lets out a deep sigh. “I was embarrassed, you know. So embarrassed I could die.” Her eyes soften. “Thank you. For taking care of me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“But I’m curious about one thing.” She tilts her head. “How did you know where I was? I didn’t tell anyone I was meeting Keanu.”
“Gretchen told me.”
“Gretchen?” Her eyes narrow. “You’re talking to Gretchen now?”
“Calm down, mama. I gave Gretchen my card because she mentioned your ex had a habit of appearing and causing a scene. I asked her to give me a heads-up when he showed.”
“So you made her your little spy?”
“Who knows what would have happened if she hadn’t called.”
“I can handle Keanu.” She tosses her head and then drops the bravado with a sheepish smile. “But I’m glad I didn’t have to.”
I study her, the straight black hair that’s mussed by the wind and her struggle with Keanu and the smooth brown skin striking against the white scrubs. A tender feeling wells in my chest. It’s not the raging hate I had at first or the passionate lust we shared the night we spent together.
It’s like settling into something that’s comfortable, custom-made.
I grab the edge of the mattress, rise, and press a kiss to her forehead.
Zora’s surprise escapes in a little gasp. I lean back and smile at her. “You hungry?”
“Uh…”
“I can make pancakes.”
Her shocked expression melts into excitement. “Pancakes?”
“I’ll be back soon.” I gesture to the bed. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Zora takes my advice to heart because, when I return with a tower of steaming pancakes and honey, she’s snoring on the bed. I smile when I notice the way her limbs are sprawled out. Even if I wanted to, there’s no way I’m sliding in beside her tonight.
I move to tiptoe out of the room when I hear something buzzing. Curious I set the tray on the nightstand and notice her phone jumping around.
Afraid it will wake Zora, I pick it up to silence it. At least, that was my intention before I saw Keanu’s name sliding across the screen.
KEANU: Hey Zo.
KEANU: Zo?
KEANU: Should we meet for drinks tomorrow? I’ll buy.
KEANU: How bout this weekend?
I cringe. Can’t the guy take a hint? Even if Zora hit him over the head with a bat she wouldn’t have been clearer than she was tonight.
Another message comes in.
KEANU: How are we supposed to fix things if you can’t meet me halfway?
I tiptoe outside and call Keanu’s number. He picks up immediately and in a husky tone says, “I knew you’d pick up.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
There’s a pause and then, “Who’s this?”
“I�
��m Zora’s boyfriend and the father of her child.”
“Get off the phone. I want to talk to Zora.”
“We want a lot of things, Keanu. Doesn’t mean we can get them.” I sound condescending even to my own ears, but I can’t help it. This guy doesn’t inspire any sympathy from me. “I’m asking you man to man. Don’t call this number again and leave Zora alone.”
He cusses me out, exploding with every four-letter word known to man. I hang up on him. No sense giving Keanu any more attention. He’s made enough of a fuss tonight.
I head back into the bedroom to take the tray of pancakes back into the kitchen, but end up getting distracted by Zora. She’s still wearing her white tennis shoes. I lean over and gently slip off the left foot and then the right. She rolls on her side but doesn’t wake.
I smooth her hair back with my fingers, enjoying the softness of her skin. Zora can talk smack all day, but right now, when she’s sleeping and quiet, she seems more vulnerable than any woman I’ve met.
Keanu’s crazy and persistent. Something tells me he won’t be a gracious loser and back out quietly.
My gaze slips to Zora’s stomach. I’m looking at the two most important people in my life, apart from my mother and Kent. I’ll keep them safe if it kills me.
Before setting Zora’s phone down, I delete the messages from Keanu and then block his number. After returning the pancakes to the counter, I sit around the table and call Gretchen.
“Hello?”
“This is Wilson. Thank you for the heads up today.” I lean back in my chair. “I need to ask you for another favor.”
She giggles. “For you? Anything.”
Chapter Eighteen
Zora
“Wow,” Diandra stops in her tracks when she sees me, “you’re so—I mean… that is a belly.”
“Thanks a lot.” I plunk into the whicker-back chair settled around the café’s patio and frown. “I live for your kind words of comfort.”
“Sorry.” Diandra ducks her head. “I didn’t mean to be insulting. It’s just the last time we saw each other, you didn’t look like that.”
“Like what? A beach whale?”
Amaya touches my hand. “Stop it, Zora. You look beautiful.”
“Yeah, you can say that.” I eye her pretty pink, spaghetti strap dress. Amaya’s got a flat stomach and a job that allows her to sleep like a normal human being so there are no dark circles under her eyes. She looks young, fresh and beautiful.
Yes, I’m bitter.
“How far along are you?” Diandra asks, her dark skin glowing with excitement.
“Thirteen weeks.” I let out a deep sigh. “I’m officially out of my first trimester. So hopefully, I can make it through three consecutive days without puking. If Little Bean is so inclined.”
“Little Bean?”
“It’s what Wilson and I call the kid. The first ultrasound, the baby was as small as a bean.”
“You and Wilson, huh?” Amaya nudges me. “Kent says you two are getting along like a dream.”
“Kent’s wrong,” I snap.
“What?” Diandra leans forward, eager to hear my relationship woes. “What’s he doing?”
“First of all, he’s smothering me.”
“Smothering?” Amaya sucks in a breath. “Like with a pillow?”
“Oh, honey. I wish. He’s on my back all the time. Making me breakfast. Calling to make sure I’ve eaten lunch. And guess what?”
“What?” Diandra says in a bored voice.
I frown because they don’t seem to be sharing my outrage. “He got the entire nursing staff in on it too. Now Gretchen’s all up in my face, reminding me to eat between shifts and the male nurses are doing all the heavy lifting like I’m some invalid.”
“Uh-huh.” Amaya stares at her napkin. “How tragic.”
I ignore her sarcasm and continue to complain. “I’m pregnant, not disabled. You’d think I’m frailer than a grandma the way he’s got everyone catering to me. And don’t get me started on his rules.”
“Rules?” Diandra perks up.
“Yeah, like I’m not allowed to walk home anymore. He takes me to and from the hospital everyday. And if I want to exercise, he has to escort me. It’s a miracle I even got him to let me out of the house so I could see you today.”
“You’re making it sound like Wilson’s abusive,” Amaya says. “But Kent told me he’s just concerned about Keanu.”
“I haven’t heard from Keanu in two weeks. He’s probably given up by now.”
Amaya shoots me a look. “We both know that man doesn’t give up so easy.”
“People change.” I shrug.
“But Keanu?” Amaya shakes her head. “I don’t buy it.”
“I don’t care about Keanu. I just want some space.”
“So why don’t you talk to Wilson about it?” Diandra suggests.
I narrow my eyes at her. “Are you kidding? That’ll hurt his feelings.”
Amaya smirks. “So you care about not hurting Wilson’s feelings now? That’s new.”
“I know he’s only doing all that because he cares.” I hunker down in my chair and mumble, “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“It’s important to communicate in a relationship,” Amaya says. “Just be calm and rational when you ask him to let up a bit. Wilson cares about you so he’ll do what he can to find a compromise.”
Diandra nods. “Listen to the married woman. She’s dropping gems.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Amaya pats my hand. “Meanwhile, I’ll pray you find some relief from the awful boyfriend of yours who lives for your comfort and security. Lord knows you’ve put up with so much.”
“Thank you.” I huff.
Diandra snickers.
“Don’t think you’re out of the blue!” Amaya narrows her eyes. “I’m coming for you next!”
Diandra stops laughing. “Me?”
Amaya tilts her head so her curls brush her pretty brown cheeks. “I heard you’ve been dating someone.”
“Zora!” Diandra glares my way.
I throw my hands up. “Wasn’t me. I didn’t tell anyone about our conversation at the engagement party.”
“Who is he?” Amaya grins wide. “And why didn’t you tell me about him?”
“Because it’s not important.”
“Not important? It’s been ages since you’ve dated someone. I want to know everything. What’s his name? What does he look like? What does he do?”
Diandra’s eyes flit around. “He’s just some guy. I’ll introduce you when things are more serious. I promise.”
“Fine.” Amaya flounces back in her chair. “I’ll back off for now.”
We chat about our lives, enjoying each other’s company. I almost bust a spleen when Amaya shares her various methods of getting Kent to remember something he’s forgotten.
She’s not allowing his condition to define them or limit them in any way, and I really admire that.
Whoa. Never thought I’d be a fan of Amaya, but here I am.
A casual glance over my shoulder a few hours later reveals Wilson’s car parked beside the café. I roll my eyes. “Looks like the warden’s here.”
“Stop it.” Amaya gives me a look that reminds me of my mother after I’d said something stupid. “Talk to him.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Diandra glances at her watch. “Guys, I have to get going. I’ve got an appointment.”
“Where?”
“Uh… family thing.”
“Can I come? I love your family. Your brothers are awesome.” Amaya grins.
“Maybe next time.” Diandra slings her purse over her shoulder. “Bye, guys.”
Amaya and I exchange looks.
She chucks her chin in the direction that Diandra is fleeing. “Isn’t she acting far too suspicious?”
“I know right.”
One corner of Amaya’s lips curl up. “Come on!” She slaps money on the table and drags me across the
street to Wilson’s car.
As soon as he sees us coming, Wilson climbs out and waits for us to near him. He’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt that shows off his muscular arms. The sunshades perched on his strong nose give him a roguish vibe that is insanely attractive.
“Hey, Zo. Amaya. Did you girls have—?”
“Get in the car and drive, Wilson,” Amaya says. She thrusts me toward the passenger side and scrambles into the back. When neither of us moves, she pokes her head out the window. “Come on!”
Wilson gazes at me.
I shrug and laugh. “Just go with it.”
We climb into the car. Amaya thrusts her face between the headrests. “That’s Diandra’s truck. Don’t lose sight of it.”
“You want me to tail Diandra? Why?”
“Don’t ask questions, Wilson. Go!”
I have to admit, as crazy as Amaya’s plan is, I enjoy tearing through the city like a Bond woman in an action sequence. Wilson seems to enjoy it too. He slows down and speeds up to keep Diandra in our sights while avoiding detection.
We turn a familiar curve and the fun slips away from me, leaving confusion in its wake. “Wait… this is Thomas’s neighborhood.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Amaya says.
Wilson slows the car and pulls over in a free lot. “She stopped.”
“That’s Thomas’s building,” Amaya breathes.
I pull my cell phone out while Diandra trots inside.
“What are you doing?” Amaya hisses.
“Calling my brother.” I dial Thomas’s number and wait for it to ring.
He picks up. “Sis?”
“Hey, Thomas. Are you busy right now?”
Wilson turns and meets my eyes.
“Yeah, sort of. Is something wrong? Is it the baby? Or Keanu?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. I just… missed you.”
“You miss me?” Thomas chuckles. “Pregnancy’s made you soft.”
“Excuse me?”
Wilson muffles his laughter with a hand.
“Or maybe it’s Wilson,” Thomas says. “I think I was wrong about that guy. He’s okay. I mean, you could still do better but… ”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Thanks, Thomas. By the way, would you mind if I came over in a few minutes? I have something I want to ask you.”
“A few minutes?” His voice climbs several octaves. “Uh…”
