by Nia Arthurs
I snorted. “Thanks.”
“What are grandmothers for?”
I jumped into the car and sped out of the lot.
“Oy,” Gran said a minute later. “This isn’t good.”
I stared through the windshield at the congested streets. Saturday mornings in Belize City were crowded with locals shopping in the stores downtown. Despite the bad weather, the road was packed.
“This is going to take forever.”
“Imani’s probably still at home getting ready. If you call now, you could even catch her there.”
“No, I don’t want to call. I want to see her face. I want her to look me in the eyes and deny that…” A driver that had been parked on the side of the road suddenly burst into traffic and cut me off.
“Aw, come on!” I smacked my hand against the horn.
Gran shook her fists at the squealing vehicle. “Watch where you’re going!”
“Maybe I should call Imani. Just to find out where she is.”
“Give me a minute. I’ll call Pastor Matthew instead.”
“Good idea.”
Gran put the phone to her ear and waited. I tapped my finger restlessly on the steering wheel. Maybe this traffic was a blessing in disguise. It’d give me a break to figure out what I was going to say.
“Hello?” Gran’s one-sided conversation carried in the background. Suddenly, she gasped. “What?” Her dark eyes flitted to me, flashing with worry. “The wedding’s already started?”
I slammed on the brakes.
The truck behind me hadn’t been ready for it and careened into my tail. Gran screamed. Glass shattered. I stuck my arm out to protect her from slamming her forehead against the dashboard.
“Are you okay?” I yelled.
“I’m fine.” She massaged her neck. “Don’t worry about me. What are you going to do? That was Pastor Matthew’s wife on the phone. She said the wedding’s already underway.”
I licked my lips, my mind scrambling for a solution.
“Go!” Gran pushed me out of the car. “I’ll take care of this.”
My fingers slipped from the steering wheel, but I resisted her advice. “I can’t leave you by yourself.”
“Elliot, I am more than capable of taking care of a little car accident. Now get out of here. Even if you run, you might not be able to make it.”
Her words fueled me on. “Call me if—”
“Go!” she yelled.
I took off, sprinting through the city to the church, to Imani. If I didn’t get there in time, I didn’t know what I would do.
Chapter 24
IMANI
“What do you mean you want to talk to Amir before you go in?” Mom leveled furious eyes on me. “We’re already getting started, Imani. You’ll see him soon enough.”
“This is serious, Mom.”
“No, what’s serious are these heels that are pinching my toes.” She hopped on one foot and held onto the top of the car door while pointing to her stilettos. “Now, stop wasting time and grab your father’s arm.”
I looked up at Dad. Even though we lived in the same city, we usually kept our distance from each other. Not because I hated him. Okay, maybe I still did. A little.
For the most part I’d made peace with Dad and his decisions. I avoided him for Mom’s sake. She couldn’t stand her ex-husband and yet she always seemed to melt when he looked at her.
Like right now.
My mother was coming undone just because he was standing beside her. Evidence was right there in the lingering gazes on his back and the secret smirk that trembled her lips.
Her reaction was understandable. My dad was still handsome and tall with broad shoulders and sultry brown eyes. When he smiled, wrinkles pulled along his mouth—an expression that shouldn’t be attractive but was.
He wore a simple black tuxedo. His thick, wavy hair was brushed back to expose the rugged edge of his handsome face.
“What’s going on, baby?” he asked. “What’s the holdup?”
“I need to see Amir, Daddy.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” Mom whined. “What’s so urgent that it can’t wait until after the wedding?”
I dropped my hands into my dress. “Mom… this wedding… it can’t happen.”
My mother gasped.
Dad’s skin turned pale.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
“Sorry?” Mom choked. “You better get yourself together, Imani. Now is not the time to be joking like that.”
“I’m not joking, Ma.”
My mother peered at me, her fake lashes bumping up and down. “Are you pregnant?”
“No.”
“Do you have AIDS?” She peered at me.
“What?” I sputtered. “No, I don’t.”
“Is this about that boy?”
I stared at her in shock.
“What boy?” Dad asked gruffly.
Mom ignored him and stared at me. “That caterer one?”
“How do you know about him?”
“Amir told us he fired the caterer because he was being inappropriate with you.”
“Is that what he said?”
“I put two and two together and figured you weren’t rejecting that caterer’s attention or you would have cut him off yourself. So am I right? Are you struggling to accept this nice young man because of a jerk like that?”
“Elliot’s not a jerk.”
“What do you call someone who messes around with a soon-to-be married woman?” She shook her head. “You’re right. There’s another word, but I’m standing in front of a church so I’m trying to restrain myself.”
“Who is this Elliot?” Dad asked.
“He’s a friend from college.” I ducked my head. “I… he was my first love.”
My mother cursed under her breath.
“Mom,” I croaked, “I tried so hard to get him out of my head but…I couldn’t.”
My mother threw her hands up and whirled around. “Phillip, talk to her. She’s your daughter.”
“She’s my daughter now?” Dad asked with a wry smile.
“She’s your daughter when she’s bragging about cheating.”
“Mom!”
“Imani, I don’t want to hear your excuses. If you think messing around with two men is acceptable behavior then…” She wiped her hands together. “I don’t know what to do with you.”
Dad knelt in front of me, careless to the dirt that would gather on the knee of his trousers. His shoes crunched against loose stones. “Honey?”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I can’t do it.”
“It’s alright. You do what your heart tells you.”
“Of course you’d say that.” Mom snarled. “You’re all for following your heart and doing what feels right, aren’t you, Phillip! That’s why you screwed your secretary and tore our family apart!” Mom stomped to the side. “No, Imani. Don’t you dare back out now. You think your heart is that reliable? It’s not. Sometimes, you have to suck it up or you’ll hurt someone else. Is that what you want to do? Do you want to hurt Amir?”
“I don’t. That’s why I let things get this far.”
“Then don’t do this.” Mom huffed. “Please.”
“I messed up.” I searched for some glimmer of understanding in her eyes. Found none. “But isn’t it better to call things off now than get married and realize we made a big mistake?”
Dad took my hand and squeezed it. “Imani, listen to me. I know I’m not the best example here and I probably shouldn’t be offering you any advice. I hurt your mother real bad.” Dad glanced up at Mom’s face. She was softening beneath his gaze although she was trying her best to hide it. Dad swung back to me and spoke firmly, “But I would have avoided all that if I’d been honest from the start. Instead, I bottled things up and destroyed my marriage.”
I sucked in a deep breath. “I’m trying to be honest, Dad. I honestly don’t want to get married.”
&
nbsp; “That’s just jitters,” Mom insisted. “It’ll pass.”
“What if it doesn’t?” I whispered.
“That’s fine, baby. We’ll go in and call off the wedding.”
“What?” Mom raged.
“We have to.” Dad nodded at her. “My baby says she doesn’t want to do it.”
“You can’t keep spoiling her just because you feel guilty for what you did to us, Phillip. She’s a grown woman and needs to follow through on her promises.”
Dad took Mom’s shoulders in his grasp and pulled her close.
Mom fell silent and looked up at him.
“She’s not getting married today,” Dad spoke with a note of finality in his voice. “I’ll tell the pastor. You call Amir out here. Okay?”
Mom nodded dumbly.
Dad released Mom and leaned over to speak to me. “After I tell everyone, things could get a little hectic in here. It might be better if you go somewhere else.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Alright, baby.” He kissed my forehead. “I love you.”
I swallowed and returned the sentiment. “Love you too.”
“Come on.” Dad gestured to Mom. Like a love-sick puppy, she followed him back inside.
I folded my arms over my chest and shivered. Facing Amir was what scared me the most. Seeing the disappointment, the hurt in his eyes… I wasn’t sure I could handle it. Not after he’d been so good to me.
I played with the engagement ring on my finger.
It was really going to end soon.
As I waited for Amir, the sky cleared up and the heat in the car turned stifling. Gathering my dress, I found a corner outside the building and waited.
Dad should have told Pastor Matthew by now. Or maybe he hadn’t. Or maybe he had and the pastor had stopped Dad from making a formal announcement. They were probably hoping that Amir would calm me.
He wouldn’t.
The peace and certainty that I’d been missing since I woke up this morning cloaked my shoulders. Beneath the underlying panic and dread and fear was a rising resolve.
Footsteps crunched the loose stones. I straightened. The moment I’d been both anticipating and dreading had arrived. I dug my fingers into my dress.
His footsteps grew louder. “Imani?”
“Over here.” I waved.
He turned the bend, looking dashing in his navy blue tux. His hair was neatly groomed and he smelled divine. I blinked, taking him in. Some other woman would be eternally lucky to have him.
“What are you doing, Babe?”
The lump in my throat warned I was going to cry again. Man, I hated myself sometimes. I’d cried more in this past week than I’d done in my entire life.
He froze, his face muscles tensing up. He understood before I’d spoken a word. “No.”
“I can’t do it.”
“No, Imani. No, please don’t.”
“I didn’t want to say it at the altar. I thought it was better this way.”
“You’re… breaking up with me? On our wedding day?” He stumbled back, his face stamped with shock and devastation. “In front of my family, my friends. Everyone at work? Really?”
I patted my chest. “I know. I’m the monster. But…” I sucked in a deep breath, “there’s a part of you that anticipated this.”
“How do you figure that?” he spat.
“Because you started the wedding without me. You knew I hadn’t gotten here yet, but it didn’t matter. You wanted me to walk in with things underway so I wouldn’t be able to back out.”
A bird chirped nearby.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Amir paused and then asked, “Are you doing this because of him?”
I thought the question over. Was I?
When I took too long to answer, he moved in front of me, his eyes glistening with tears. “Are you?”
“I’m doing it for you.”
“Me?”
“And for me.” I looked down, too ashamed to meet his eyes. “I wouldn’t have been able to treat you the way you deserve. You’re too good a man to settle for a woman who’s looking at someone else, Amir.”
He rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t care about all that. It’s you, Imani. From the moment our eyes met, it’s always been you. I’ll do everything I can to win your heart completely. Can’t you reconsider?”
I felt my resolve shaking in the face of his heartbreak. Tears spilled down my cheek. What did he see in me? Like really?
“I’m sorry.” I wiggled the engagement ring off my finger and placed it in his palm. Folding his dark fingers over it, I confessed, “Hate me. Call me a witch. I deserve all of it, but please, please know it wasn’t your fault. It was me. Okay? It’s all me.”
Amir slowly fell. Crouching with his knees pulled to his chest, he made a sound that was part-sob, part grunt. I wanted to comfort him, but I saw people spilling out of the church, his mother first among them.
Dad must have made the announcement.
His mother’s eyes fastened on me, bright and angry. She charged over. The ground shook with every step. I didn’t want to face her. So I did what any cowardly person who just broke a man’s heart would do in that moment.
I ran.
Chapter 25
Elliot
I ran like a madman. Skidding around corners. Bumping into shoulders. Launching over babies in strollers like an Olympic pole vaulter.
My heart pounded from the speed and the panic. I feared checking my watch. Time was slipping through my fingers. I didn’t want to admit, no, I couldn’t admit that I’d be late.
Feeble hope urged me on. If there was a one-in-a-million chance that I could get to Imani before she signed any papers, I’d take it. No matter what, she was a free woman until her name was on the dotted line.
I’ve officially lost it.
The thought was drowned out by my puffing breath and the crazed thump of my sneakers against the sidewalk. Pedestrians saw me coming and moved out of my way.
Smart people.
I glanced up and noted the roof of the church glinting in the distance. Sweat soaked the front of my shirt. The cotton stuck to me like a second skin.
I hadn’t even noticed when the sun had come out. The heavy, golden glare beat me over the head. I pumped my arms and pushed on.
The church. I had to make it to the church.
In the distance, I saw a heavy ball of white streaking down the sidewalk. My pace slowed. I squinted, glaring past the cars parked on the other side of the road.
What was that thing?
I came to a complete stop and rubbed my eyes. Either I was suffering from heat stroke or that ball of fluff was a wedding dress.
The nearer it came, the more details I noticed. Brown skin. Dark hair that was coming undone with each leap and tumbling down slim shoulders. The woman was beautiful, the kind of stunning that was apparent even from a distance.
When I focused on her face, I almost stumbled.
Imani.
Stunned, I took a step forward. And then another. My pace picked up until I was running toward her. The sound of brakes squealing and an angry commuter cursing up and down broke my stride.
“Sorry, sorry,” I yelled, holding my hand out to the blue pick-up truck that had stopped just before running me over. Without stopping or looking back, I dashed across the road.
“Imani!” I yelled. The organ in my chest threatened to burst. I ignored everything, focusing on her.
“Elliot?”
The moment she said my name, I let out a whoop and closed the distance between us. My arms gravitated to her waist, crushing her fancy wedding dress against my sweat-drenched body.
“Elliot!” There was a hint of laughter in the word.
I spun her around.
A car honked in the distance.
Locals sent us curious looks.
Imani ducked her face into my neck and murmured, “This is so weird.”
I grinned and slowly let her dow
n. Her body slid against me, sending my temperature up another hundred degrees. Still shocked to see her outside, I cupped her face with my hands.
Imani leaned into my touch, her eyes falling closed. I traced her soft, brown skin, marveling in the sensation. Pulling back, I asked in a shocked voice, “What are you doing here?”
Another driver honked at us.
Imani took my hand and dragged me forward. “Let’s get off the street first.”
I gladly followed her into a nearby ice cream shop. The walls were decorated with peach and pink stripes. A young lady with a baby in a stroller glanced up as we rushed inside. She took one look at me and then another long one at Imani before shaking her head and returning her attention to the baby.
Imani’s big wedding dress brushed the floor with each step. I saw her toes peeking out from the hem and realized she was barefoot.
I stopped.
She noticed immediately and glanced back. “What’s wrong?”
“Did you run here barefoot?”
She glanced down and sucked her toes beneath her dress. “Oh, that?” Brown eyes darted back and forth.
I smiled, noticing the shimmery color above her eyelids and the dark lines that emphasized the shape of her eyes. Imani looked ten times more beautiful than usual, which was a feat given she was already so perfect to me. I stared at her lips, almost missing her answer.
“Yeah, I ditched the shoes,” she said.
I laughed. “The ones I told you not to buy that day?”
“You don’t have to rub it in.” She scowled. “Your turn.”
“My turn to what?” I led her to a booth and slid inside, tugging her in beside me.
“Answer some questions.” She settled down, fitting into my side like a glove. Our bodies knew she was meant to be there; she was meant to be beside me.
I stared at her face, drowning in awe.
Imani cleared her throat, a smirk flirting with her lips. “Why were you running to the church?”
“Who said I was running to the church? Maybe I was just out for a jog.”
“Downtown?” She arched an eyebrow. “In the rain?”