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“Your father knows not to pop up here or come back at all. I’ve made it clear I will ruin his life if he does.”
“What do you have on him?”
“Hmm, let’s just say he got the money to start his business through less than legal channels. The other stuff? I just can’t tell you. I wouldn’t want to ruin your image of him.”
“He already ruined it by mistreating you.”
“I know, but…”
“You still love him. You’re still protecting him.”
“Yes, I do still love him.”
I shook my head. “I don’t see how you can.”
“Hmm, well…The thing is, love can’t be turned off like a water faucet. If it’s there and it’s really real, it doesn’t disappear and it doesn’t go away. Real love is forever.”
I let her words soak in. “Are you going to take him back?”
“I don’t know, Angie. I just don’t know.”
Once we were in Ryan’s vehicle on the way home, he asked, “You all right over there?”
With my gaze still fixed on the scenery outside the passenger window, I said, “I don’t know. Everything…it’s all just fucked up.” I sighed. “Sorry to have pulled you into my family mess.”
“It’s okay. And if it makes you feel any better, Lamar is a cool dude and he really seems to care about your mom.”
“I don’t know what’s going on with her, though. Screwing another man in my father’s house? And I swear she was flirting with you.”
“I kind of noticed that, but come on, Angela. Look at me. Who wouldn’t flirt with me?”
I tried not to look at him, but when I finally broke weak and glanced in his direction, he was wearing this silly grin, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he said.
“I hope so.”
He reached over and rested a hand on my cheek, his eyes still on the road as he said, “I know so.”
17
I’d spoken to Nicky once since the great anniversary cluster fuck, and true to form, she dodged the subject of our parents separating altogether, sidestepping it when I brought it up. She went on and on about the week Damon spent in town and how glad she was to spend time with him, pretending she still saw him as her best friend only. When I asked about Warren, she actually sounded confused, like she didn’t even know who I was talking about. Poor Warren.
Poor funky Warren.
She got off the phone without really letting me talk, so I didn’t have to give a dating update. Good, because the only man I’d seen for a solid month was Ryan, and I didn’t feel like being berated for my relationship tendencies. Hell, I wasn’t her. If I liked a man and enjoyed being with him, I only wanted to be with him. That was just how I was wired. I wasn’t made to date multiple men. I’d even been dodging Harrison’s phone calls, because as nice and kind as he was, he was no Ryan Boyé.
I moved closer to my bathroom mirror as I slid the make-up brush across my cheek. I was preparing to film a sponsored wig review video. I wasn’t a big wig wearer, but the company gave me a choice of three human hair wigs for free to review on my channel, and wig reviews always garnered a lot of views, and views of monetized videos equaled money for me. So I had no problem cornrowing my hair and trying on Karen, Courtney, and Shia. And it really wasn’t a conflict of interest. Wigs were good protective style choices for those of us with natural hair.
I dug through my make-up bag for my brick red lipstick and thought about all the fun I’d been having with Ryan—movies, dinners, multiple events at Coda, just chilling at either of our places. Whatever we were building felt nice, and he’d been a perfect gentleman. No more making me squirm in public, but that actually kind of disappointed me. I missed feeling what he made me feel, what only he had ever made me feel, but liked the idea that he wanted to slow things down and savor just getting to know me. Still, I missed him touching me in that way, but was too ashamed to bring it up.
I glanced at my phone lying on the bathroom counter and smiled as Renee’s number glowed on the screen. I put it on speakerphone as I answered it. “Hey, Nay.”
“Hey, Ang. What’ve you been up to?”
I hadn’t talked to her at all since the dinner party fiasco. We were all three going to have to do better about keeping in touch. A month is too long not to talk to your sister, but I supposed we’d all been busy with our lives.
“Nothing much,” I said. “Working.”
