“I do hope this is private,” I say to them both. “I understand that your loyalties lie in a number of different places these days.” I take another sip of my martini.
“Don’t you dare, Jasmine,” Danielle says. “You’re the reason why our weekly sushi and dive nights are strained, to say the least. You know, it’s funny. Just earlier you seemed really humble and willing to put things aside and now you’re acting like the old Jasmine.”
I roll my eyes and take a deep breath. She’s right. I was willing to put our differences aside earlier and look at me now. I’m starting a tiff with her just because I’m feeling self-conscious. I already knew before I invited Danielle and Rena here that they’re good friends with Winnie and Jacob’s sisters. I knew that they would probably hate to hear that Jacob cheated on Winnie with me. But I had to tell them. I can’t go and spill naughty secrets to Dena. I love Dena—don’t get me wrong. We’ve been travelling buddies and part of our own Mommy Mafia for years now. She’s the only person I know who understands that feeding your child muesli bars is better than granola. However, I can’t go and tell this secret to Dena. She’s a marriage fanatic; if anyone desecrates it in any way, shape or form, they’re scum. They’re dead to her. So, I need Danielle and Rena to listen and not judge. I need to vent to them.
“I’m sorry,” I say to Danielle. “I’m self-conscious about this, that’s all.”
“I get it,” Danielle says. “Because this guy, whoever he is,” she takes a sip of her cranberry sparkling water, “surely has a wife who would die for him. A wife who has been on the front lines with him for a while. I know that many people would want to find fault in her, particularly his little fan base of women. They figure that she somehow trapped him into marrying her, but the truth is that it was an arranged marriage … as the story goes. Neither one of them had much of a say so. You have to remember that she was just screwing him while she was in college, just for kicks. Her two friends introduced them … from what I hear. Not like I know the girl personally or anything. Supposedly, he’d fly her into town about once a month. He was just a fun hookup who would put her on the back of his bike and go cruising around town. From what I hear, they just used to hang out, go get hot-dogs on a stick, eat Oreos in his room, sleep together and then he’d fly her back to Boston.”
Oh really? Hmm.
“It wasn’t that deep for her, but their parents made a big deal out of it. Eventually she grew to love him. Eventually they married. From what I hear, eventually he grew to love her. I heard that six years ago, he confessed to cheating on her throughout their marriage. This surprised the hell out of her. Yeah, he had a bad boy rep, but a cheat after he vowed to be faithful to her? She was mystified. But for about six years now, he seemed as though he was on the straight and narrow, which is why this is such a shock to me.
“Just the other day, I heard that they drove to the harbor, picked up some hotdogs on a stick and ate them by a fire some homeless guy had made. I heard it was romantic. I heard he took out the prenup they signed when they were kids and ceremoniously burned it. They watched it fly away, bits of black paper floating through the air. I heard he did the same with the divorce decree they once had. Rumor has it he said something to the effect of, ‘This is for life, baby.’ And though I’m a cherry blossom in springtime kind of girl, I heard his wife thought it was romantic.” She takes a sip of her sparkling water. “So, it’s odd to hear that he’s in love with another woman.”
Silence. We all three sit at the table in utter silence. Rena’s staring down at her glass, Danielle and I are staring at each other.
“I shouldn’t have even said anything. I figured this talk would go horribly considering your loyalties lie in a number of places these days,” I say to her before taking a sip of my martini and rolling my eyes. By the time I open them, Danielle’s still staring at me. She and I lock eyes and once again we all sit in silence. But there’s no denying it; Danielle is stewing right now. There’s no way in hell I’m telling Danielle and Rena what exactly happened. Not when Danielle’s little speech had every intention on portraying me as a lovesick fool and Winnie as the unsuspecting and beloved wife.
“I’m sure loving two guys is tough,” Rena says to break the tension. “But consider the circles they travel in, Jazzy. It’s too close for comfort.”
“I get it. And that’s why I told you two about it. Sometimes a girl needs to be talked down from the ledge before she takes the leap and does something she’ll regret.” I take a nervous sip of my martini. I look at Danielle and now she looks confused. Did you or did you not screw him? I take another nervous sip of my martini.
“That’s what we’re here for,” Rena says.
Danielle is still stewing, still staring. She’s thinking. I’ve known Danielle long enough to know her thinking face.
“I don’t want to see you ruin your life with Marlon because he’s the perfect guy for you, Jasmine,” Rena says.
“He is,” Danielle finally says.
“This sounds like some advice I’ve given Danielle about Jon,” I say with a small smile and another nervous sip of my martini.
“Completely different,” Danielle says. “You didn’t know what you were talking about. Jon was an asshole, still is. Marlon is loyal and would go to hell and back for you.” Her voice is full of conviction.
“You think so?”
“How could you not?”
“I think so too, Jasmine,” Rena says.
“That other asshole, the one declaring his goddamn love all the damn time … ” Danielle rolls her eyes, “needs to be taught a fucking lesson.”
“Marlon’s the one for you, Jazzy,” Rena says with a smile. “He just is.”
“Yeah,” I say nodding, “this is what I needed.” I reach across the table and grab hold of both of their hands.
“Tough love,” Rena says as both she and Danielle give my hands a squeeze.
“Whether you want it or not,” Danielle says with a grin.
“Thank God for sisters,” I say to them. We all ease our hands away, reach for our glasses and clink them together.
“Cheers,” Danielle says. “Here’s to tough love.”
Jasmine
(home.)
“You two text me and tell me you got home!” Rena yells out from her cab.
“I will! You, too!” I say to her and Danielle.
“I will! You both do the same!” Danielle screams out from the side of her town car as her driver opens the door for her.
So, this is what I’ve gained from this entire experience the past twenty-four hours: Jacob isn’t bad just because Marlon is good. Jacob and Marlon are just both different. And who says Jacob is bad? Yeah, I know he swears he is but the truth is that bad is a state of mind. In another culture Marlon could be perceived as weak and Jacob as vigilant. In yet another culture Marlon could be perceived as upstanding and Jacob as a menace. Good and bad are all about perception.
And here’s the thing—I don’t want to be torn between two men. Yet, I am. I love Jacob, I love Marlon; those guys are the two loves of my life. They’re all I know. They each give me what I want. I don’t want one without the other. But I know that I’ll have to decide. So, today I decide; it’ll be Marlon. But make no mistake, that desire for Jacob will likely never go away. Here’s the catch, though, if I was with Jacob exclusively with his bad boy antics, guess who I’d be thinking about? You got it.
Marlon.
Marlon is the charming social climber who’s a gentleman and oh so gentle in all the ways Jacob isn’t. I would be wondering why Jacob always has to head out to the bars without me; because look at Marlon—he doesn’t do that. He takes his wife to Piranha’s with him. And just look at how Marlon smiles to get his way; why do you always have to be such a brute, Jacob? Oh, will you look at how Marlon takes his kids to the park every Wednesday! Why do I have to send the kids to your parents in order to get a break, Jacob? And look how Marlon buys tulips, I bet they’re for his wife. She’s so lucky.
Why don’t you ever bring home tulips, Jacob? Why are Oreo cookies the only thing you ever walk in the door with? Why can’t you ever just take the kids out of the house for a few hours so that I can drink white wine, eat cheese and crackers and watch Iron Chef in peace? Why can’t you be more like Marlon!
See what I mean? I’d always want the other.
As I open the door to the cab, my cell phone buzzes. It’s my mother.
Mom 11:43 pm: Look at Tiffany licking Pearl! Sisterly love.
Me 11:43 pm: Stop her from doing that! And why are they up? Better yet, why are they there?
Mom 11:44 pm: Marlon brought them over about a half hour ago. You didn’t know?
Me 11:44 pm: No, I was out having drinks with Danielle and Rena.
Mom 11:45 pm: Well I’m glad you’ve decided to join the land of the living. Will you be going home tonight?
Me 11:45 pm: I will be!
Mom 11:46 pm: I’m sure Marlon wants some alone time with his wife. It’s been quite a while. I’m sure he wants a good fuck.
Me 11:46 pm: Mom!
Mom 11:46 pm: What? What happened? Is everything alright?
Mom 11:47 pm: Ugh. I’ll call you tomorrow.
Mom 11:47 pm: Ciao babe.
See, this is the reason why I married Marlon Kyles; he is nothing if not persistent. He will make our marriage work and dammit, so will I … regardless of what happened between Jacob and me. Should I feel wrong that I’m about to make love to my husband after admitting to my friends that I was in love with Jacob? After I didn’t admit that I slept with Jacob? I should, shouldn’t I? But I kinda don’t. I wanted Jacob and I’m glad I had one more night. Now it’s over. I want Marlon and I’m glad I have my entire life with him. I’m grateful for Malcolm, grateful for Danielle and Rena, grateful for my grandparents who helped me out with the girls and grateful for Marlon for loving me regardless. If there is such a thing as a good man, Marlon Kyles fits the bill. I will be going home to love on my husband. And enjoying every moment of it.
Me 11:48 pm: Be home in an hour, love.
Hubby 11:48 pm: Not going anywhere. Girls are with your parents. Just us.
Me 11:48 pm: Perfect.
Hubby 11:49 pm: I love you Jasmine. I do. I love you.
Me 11:49 pm: Forever. Marlon. Forever.
I hop in the back of the cab and shut the door behind me.
“Come with me.”
I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of his voice. I whip my head to the side and see him sitting there, staring straight ahead.
Jacob.
Jacob
(i. do.)
“We’re back at St. Michael’s,” she says to me as I open the cab door for her.
“We are.” I reach out my hand for her to take it. “Can you park around the corner?” I say to the cabbie before closing the door behind me. The cabbie zooms off, following orders. I don’t need a crowd for this and I paid (and threatened) him enough so that this moment could remain private. “I always thought that when you and I were married, we’d get married in a church. I was surprised when I saw your wedding announcement in the paper and it said you were marrying at the Ritz.”
“Marlon grew up Episcopalian but converted to Catholicism for me, so I didn’t want to spook his family with our rituals.”
“Makes sense.” I guide her towards the stairs where we all stood just hours before. This time there are no sounds of singing children, just the sound of the Catholic instrumental music seeping through a set of speakers hidden within the church doors. “God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman” plays as we say nothing and climb to the top of the steep hill of steps. Above hell; below heaven. I turn to face her, pulling her by the waist. She does that shy smile she always did when I looked down at her. Closing her eyes, she shakes her head and looks away.
“Stop it,” she says, her dimples growing larger.
“What did I do?” I know what I’m doing. I pull her closer.
“You’re trying to disarm me and you know the easiest way to do that is to make me self-conscious.”
“I just want to talk to Jasmine Harlow tonight, not Jasmine Kyles. I’m trying to coax the Jasmine I once knew out of you.” I watch her shudder. “Cold?” I say as I run a hand down the arm of her coat.
“No, just nervous.” She looks up at me through her lashes. Now she’s trying to disarm me.
“Yeah …” I look up at the sky and watch a grey cloud pass over the moon.
“Why’d you bring me here?” she asks, her voice soft. The front doors of a Catholic church tend to be open all night, so trust me, Jasmine does not want to do the eyelash and soft voice thing with me tonight.
“Because I always thought you’d get married in a church.” I look down at her, locking our eyes. “And I always thought it would be with me. But you would’ve been pissed with me because I would’ve waited to ask you to marry me until I was at least … thirty. That was going to be the safe bet, just to make sure I had most of the other girls out of my system.”
“Most?” She shakes her head, a smile on her face.
“I’m not perfect.”
“No kidding.”
“I imagined that we’d get married in a Catholic church, most likely this one right here, since marrying at the bride’s church is the tradition. Truth be told, back when I was twenty-three, I don’t think I could’ve come up with a thing to say. Actually, Cadence wrote my first vows. But that shouldn’t be a surprise. If I would’ve gotten married when I was supposed to get married, I would’ve been fully aware of what I wanted say to the woman I’d share my bed, my life and my children with. So, if I was thirty and you were—what, twenty-eight—I think I would have said something like:
“Jasmine, what I love most about you is that you relentlessly loved me at my most unlovable times. I’m convinced that I’m not worthy of your love. I’m not worthy of you. But far be it from me to turn away a gift. The moments I had with you that last year in high school, those four years in college, those years in law school, were years of undeserved happiness. Every moment with you was worth remembering, every joke we had still makes me laugh. I will never forget that you singlehandedly took on the responsibility of growing with me, surrounded by nothing but my dirt and mud, thorns and all. I stand here today a humble man, grateful that somehow, and for some reason, I was given the chance to be loved by you. I don’t believe, by any stretch of the imagination, that anyone could ever love me exactly like you. And now all I can do is hope that no matter what life throws your way, you’ll never forget me. Never regret me. Because I love you, Jasmine Harlow, and it’s a delirious love. An unearthly love. It’s an above hell, below heaven love. There will never be another human being that I will love exactly how I love you. I’d die a thousand times if it meant that I could relive those years of loving you … over … and over … and over again.”
I look down and run a hand over my face. I’m not the emotional type in my crew, that’s what we have Cadence for. In fact, Cadence wrote my first wedding vows. At my wedding to Winnie, everyone cried at the words I memorized and recited. I couldn’t understand what the big deal was, until now. I may not be crying now but I can see why loving another human being is an emotional experience. It’s funny, women get that instantly when they love a man; men get that instantly when they lose a woman.
I watch Jasmine take a deep breath and give me a pained smile.
“Well, Jacob. If I were twenty-eight and marrying you at this church, I would say that there is a freedom and happiness that I feel with you that I will never feel with another person. So no matter what you think, loving you was easy. I’d die a thousand times just to look forward to doing it all over again.”
And as we stand in front of St. Michael’s, I take her left hand in mine, turn it over, open it and slide a box into it. Inside is a platinum necklace the sales woman at Tiffany’s called ‘princess length.’ On it is a small charm: the letter J with a crown sitting on the top of it. Placed in the crown are minuscule rubies, sapphires,
diamonds and amethysts. Pearls are for princesses. Jewels are for queens. It’s not an exchange of rings, but close enough. Now she and I both have our own J with a crown. My crown is fit for a king, hers for a queen. She opens the box, smiles into it and then looks back up at me.
“J for Jasmine,” I say with a wink. She smiles and nods before looking away.
“I should go,” she says, her voice choked. She looks towards the cabbie and raises a hand for his attention. Within seconds he’s backing up in front of the church again.
“I’ll grab another one,” I whisper to her. She nods okay.
“I have to say this, I’m so embarrassed to admit this, but I named my girls Pearl and Tiffany because of you. Pretty crazy, right?”
Of course she did. “Bold, but not crazy.”
“I may have a little bit of you in me after all,” she says before looking up at me and running a hand down the front of my jacket.
“I think you do.” I run a hand across her cheek.
“Well I would say ‘see you around’ but that’s pointless. I’ll cross paths with you more times in a week than what’s deemed proper, considering Danielle and I are back on speaking terms. Seems like your wife and I share a best friend.”
“Thank God for that. I can at least have the pleasure of just looking at you.” I smile down at her and reach out to pull her closer. She shakes her head no.
“Bye, Jacob.” She locks eyes with me. She’s waiting for me to say it.
But I won’t.
She waits.
Not happening.
She waits.
I smile at her.
She gives me a small wave before she turns around.
I go ahead and let her leave.
And then my phone vibrates.
Winnie 11:21 pm: Jacob, my water broke.
Me 11:21 pm: On my way baby
Two Months Later …
(labor. suite #43.)
Forever. (This. Is. Not. Over. Book 3) Page 20