Tamia’s eyes narrowed. “What proposal?”
“Glad you asked. I’d like to—”
“You know what?” Tamia cut him off, holding up a hand. “I don’t even wanna hear it.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
“Why not? Why not? Hmm, let me see. Maybe because the last time you approached me with one of your so-called proposals, I lost my boyfriend and my job, and I went to prison for murder.”
Dominic grimaced, leaning back in his chair. “All of that was unfortunate—”
“Unfortunate?” Tamia echoed in angry disbelief. “Getting a speeding ticket is unfortunate. Falling on your ass in public is unfortunate. What happened to me was absolutely devastating, Dominic, and none of it would have happened if you’d stayed the hell out of my life. So, no, I have absolutely no interest in hearing your proposal, so you can just go fuck yourself.”
Dominic hung his head, looking contrite for the first time since she’d met him. “I know I did you wrong, Tamia. That’s why I’d like to make amends.”
“How? You nearly destroyed my life, Dominic. There’s nothing you can say or do to make amends for that.”
“Maybe not,” he conceded, “but I’d at least like to try.”
“Why? To ease your damn conscience?”
“Nah,” he murmured, watching as she agitatedly sipped more water. “This isn’t about making myself feel better. It’s about rectifying a mistake, righting a wrong—”
Tamia snorted derisively, shaking her head at him. “You are so full of shit, Dominic. And you’re out of your damn mind if you think I’d be stupid enough to ever trust you again.”
He looked at her with solemn eyes. “Everyone deserves a second chance, Tamia.”
“Not everyone.” She set her empty glass down on the table, then grabbed her purse and stood so abruptly she got lightheaded.
As she swayed for a moment, Dominic frowned in concern. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she snapped.
“Maybe you should stay and eat something.”
Tamia sneered. “Nice try, but I’d rather go back to prison than stay here and have dinner with you.” She jabbed a finger at him. “You wanna make amends? Stay the fuck away from me.”
With that, she turned and strode from the table without a backward glance.
Chapter 2
Brandon
Brandon felt like a contestant on one of those old game shows.
Except in this case he only had to choose between two doors, not three. And unlike a contestant on a real game show, he knew exactly what awaited him behind each closed door.
Or did he?
Over the past year he’d learned not to take anything for granted, because nothing was ever as it seemed.
Nothing.
And no one.
Behind Door Number One was Tamia, the woman who could have been his soul mate if things hadn’t gone so horribly wrong between them.
Behind Door Number Two was Cynthia, the woman who’d gone from being his friend to his lover and, now, the mother of his unborn child.
Both women genuinely loved him and wanted to be with him.
Both gave him something the other didn’t.
But he could only choose one of them.
Squaring his broad shoulders, Brandon took a deep breath and stepped through Door Number Two.
Three pairs of eyes swung toward him.
“Brandon!” Cynthia cried, beaming with relief as she lunged from the table she’d been sharing with her parents.
“It’s about damn time you got here,” Bishop Yarbrough blustered, glaring accusingly at Brandon. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Joseph,” his wife gently chided.
He scowled. “I’m sorry, Coretta, but the boy is almost thirty minutes late.”
Brandon divided an apologetic glance between his would-be in-laws. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“No need to apologize, Brandon,” Coretta assured him. “We’re just glad you’re finally here.”
Brandon smiled briefly before shifting his gaze to Cynthia. Her long dark hair was elegantly pinned up, her makeup was flawless, and she wore a white silk dress that flattered her slender figure.
“You look beautiful,” he told her.
She smiled with pleasure. “Wait until you see my real wedding gown.”
Brandon hesitated. “Can we talk for a minute?”
Her smile faltered. She shot a nervous glance at her parents, who exchanged troubled looks.
“Everyone is waiting, Brandon,” Cynthia said anxiously. “Daddy already had to pull strings to get us a private room for the ceremony, and the judge has been—”
“This is important,” Brandon interrupted.
She held his steady gaze for a long moment, then swallowed visibly and nodded. “All right,” she agreed with obvious reluctance. “We can talk. But we really need to hurry, or we’re going to have to reschedule the ceremony.”
“And that won’t be happening,” Joseph growled, leveling a warning glare at Brandon.
He just looked at the old man.
“Come on, Joseph,” Coretta urged, steering her scowling husband from the room.
Once the door closed behind them, Brandon and Cynthia stared at each other for several moments.
“I can’t do this,” Brandon said quietly.
Panic flared in Cynthia’s dark eyes. “Can’t do what?”
“I can’t marry you, sweetheart. Not today.”
“Are you serious?” she whispered, staring incredulously at him. “Please tell me you’re not serious.”
“I’m afraid I am.” His chest tightened with guilt. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? You wait until the day of our wedding to tell me you can’t marry me, and all you have to say for yourself is ‘I’m sorry’?”
Brandon grimaced. “I’m not saying the wedding’s completely off,” he explained, walking toward her. “All I’m saying is that we can’t get married today.”
“Why not?” she demanded. “We’re already here at the courthouse. We have the marriage license. Our family and friends are out there waiting—”
“Listen to me.” Brandon cupped her face between his hands, his eyes boring into hers. “You know I wanted a long engagement. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to be talked into a hasty ceremony. I need more time.”
“Time for what?” Cynthia challenged accusingly. “Time to change your mind about marrying me? Time to keep whoring around with Tamia?”
Brandon shook his head slowly at her. “I’ve never denied my feelings for Tamia. They’re not going to disappear overnight just because you want them to.”
“I know that,” Cynthia snapped. “But I also know that we have a baby on the way, and I have no desire to be a single parent.”
“You won’t be, I promise.” Brandon’s voice gentled. “I meant it when I told you that I’m committed to making this relationship work. But a lot has happened over the past year, Cynthia. I need more time to process everything, get my head on straight. If you really love me and want to be with me, you need to be patient with me.”
“Patient?” Cynthia repeated incredulously. “I was in love with you for two fucking years before I shared my feelings with you! Was that not patient? And once we were together, I was patient with you while you defended Tamia during her murder trial, even though I knew it’d come back to haunt me. Don’t you dare talk to me about patience, Brandon Chambers, because I’ve been nothing but patient with you. If I were any more patient, I’d be a fucking doormat!”
Brandon slowly removed his hands from her face and stepped back. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through, Cynthia. I really am. But I’ve never tried to hurt you or deceive you. From the very beginning I’ve kept it one hundred with you. You’re a good woman, and I truly appreciate the way you’ve been there for me these past few years—”
“Yet this is how you choose to repay me,” Cynthia said bitterly. �
��By jilting me at the altar.”
“I’m not jilting you,” Brandon corrected. “We’re still engaged, and we’re still getting married. Just not today.”
“Unbelievable,” Cynthia hissed, rapidly blinking back tears. “I should have known you’d pull a stunt like this.”
Brandon grimaced, guilt gnawing at his insides as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “We need to let our guests know that we’re postponing the ceremony.”
“We?” Cynthia shrieked. “Are you crazy? I can’t go out there and show my face to all those people! You’re the one who’s calling off the damn wedding, so you should be the one to tell everybody!”
Brandon nodded slowly. “You’re right.”
Cynthia stared at him as he turned and started from the room. Reaching the door, he paused and glanced back at her. “I know you don’t want to hear this again,” he said quietly, “but I truly am sorry.”
She held up a trembling hand, nostrils flaring with emotion. “Just go, Brandon.”
“Cynthia—”
“GO!”
He gave her one last look of regret, then turned and walked out the door.
Dreading the task ahead of him, he made his way to the small room where their family members and closest friends were waiting for the ceremony to begin. Cynthia’s father stood at the front conferring with the judge, who was frowning as he impatiently checked his watch.
The moment Brandon appeared, all conversation ceased.
Joseph glowered at him, while Coretta offered a relieved smile that sent a sharp stab of guilt through Brandon.
Squaring his shoulders, he walked to the front of the room. Ignoring Joseph and the judge, he scanned the faces gathered before him. His parents watched him with tense expressions, as if they were bracing themselves for the worst. His younger siblings, Beau and Brooke, were smirking with suppressed laughter, while Cynthia’s four brothers looked anything but amused. His best friend, Dre, was staring at him with a mixture of wariness and sympathy.
Brandon glanced away, clearing his throat before he spoke.
“Thank you all for coming and waiting so patiently. Unfortunately, Cynthia and I won’t be getting married today.” He paused. “I’m sorry.”
As a shocked silence swept over the room, Cynthia’s mother moaned, “Help me, Lawd Jesus.”
And then she fainted.
DAFINA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2013 by Niobia Bryant
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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ISBN: 978-0-7582-6531-9
Never Keeping Secrets Page 25