Page 29 of Pretty

The deejay had been playing old hits for a minute. Chris Brown’s “Wall to Wall” was blaring from the speaker, and I led Pretty to the dance floor that I had installed.

I was amused at her stiffness. Baby girl wasn’t lying when she said that she couldn’t dance. I’d always been a great dancer, and it served me well on the field. I moved around her in smooth-ass moves that I knew made her look good as well. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t dance. All she had to do was stand there and look cute.

She did at first, but halfway through the song, her shoulders loosened, and her hips swayed from side to side. An amused smile turned her lips up, and her arms and hands flowed to the beat of the music. Her moves slowly transitioned, and I was stunned. She was mimicking my moves, and I’d be damned if she didn’t have them down. Her lying ass did know how to dance; she’d just wanted to clown me.

I couldn’t help but laugh and smile. A crowd grew around us, but she was focused on me and not the crowd. Who would have known that Miss Prim and Proper could loosen up like that?

When the song ended and the crowd applauded us, her eyes grew wide with shock. A slow smile grew on her face as she laughed and placed her hands to her face. When her eyes sparkled with amusement as she stared at me, I pulled her to my body, wrapped her up, and rested my chin on her head.

“Mhm. Okay, they’re just neighbors,” I heard Mama say as she walked by us.

I chuckled and Pretty looked up at me.

I grabbed her hand and led her away from the dance floor, and others poured onto the floor to dance.

“Aren’t you glad you came?”

Her green eyes warmed with affection, and she bit her bottom lip. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming.”

She made her way to a table with my sister and female cousins. I watched as she chatted with them before I headed back to the guys. I couldn’t help but recognize how good it felt to see her blending with my family.

NEXT DAY

I thought yesterday would be enough to keep me in a good mood, but as I suspected when my eyes opened this morning the memories of my past were unlocked. With the memories came depression, and with depression, the tears eventually came.

When I first woke up, I forced myself out of the bed and to the kitchen. I took my time creating breakfast: ham, French omelet, and beignets. I sat at the table alone and ate the meal with a Kir Royale.

I broke down somewhere between cleaning the dishes and wiping down the counters. The sobs racked me, taking over my body until I crumpled to the floor. I had to get out of the house, so I pushed through the patio doors and ran out onto the deck.

The lungful of air that I gulped wasn’t enough to purge my emotions. They overwhelmed me, and I found myself bent over with my hands gripping my knees. The tears flowed, and sobs poured from deep in my soul.

I quickly grew tired of fighting it. “Damn it! I’m so angry! How could they use me the way that they did? Why did I spend three years of my life grieving someone who wasn’t worth it? Why do I care what they thought about me or what they talked about? Cut them out of my heart!” I demanded as I yelled at the heavens.

I dropped down in a chair and used the palms of my hands to stop the flow of tears. They wouldn’t stop, and I finally gave up. I had no more sobs remaining, but the tears continued to trickle though they had greatly slowed up.

“Pretty?”

My chest tightened, and my belly felt topsy turvy. This was the worst possible moment for him to show up. I knew that I looked a hot mess with my tangled hair all around my shoulders, my eyes red and swollen, and my face tear-streaked and puffy.

I wiped my face again and sniffled as I sat up straight. I summoned a smile to share with him as he stepped onto the patio.

“I would ask if you’re okay, but I clearly see that you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” I stated, turning to face him as he took a seat beside me. I wasn’t going to offer apologies because that wasn’t who I was.

“You want to tell me what’s wrong?”

I stared at him for several seconds, gauging how much I wanted to share, because I knew that I would share. There was no guessing about that. I inhaled deeply and nodded.

“Today is my husband’s birthday.”

He blinked rapidly and frowned. “Husband?”

“Yes. He died three years ago.”

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and he replied, “I can imagine that today is extremely hard for you.”