Okay, this letter hits a little closer than I’d like. This is the very reason I can’t stop thinking about Jude. Everything reminds me of us.
“Honestly, this made me fall for her even more. She wasn’t intimidated by my success, because she was focused on her own. I was addicted to everything about her. Her laugh. Her smile. Her body, though all I could do was look, because this woman was not interested in sleeping with me. Which had never been a problem for me until her.” Cora lifts her gaze to meet De’Shaun’s. “This is where it gets juicy!” She glances back to her screen. “By this point I was rearranging my entire life just to spend time with her, even if it was to drive her to work. It still wasn’t enough, so when she had some roommate trouble, I saw an opportunity and took it. I convinced her to move in with me, and it was great, well, except for the sexual frustration. Try sleeping down the hall from the woman you can’t stop thinking about and not being constantly aroused. It’s impossible. But even that was worth it, because this woman made all of my days brighter.”
I swallow against the lump forming in the back of my throat. There’s no way that’s Jude, or about me. The similarities are merely coincidence, and my imagination is flying wild. My gaze flicks up to catch De’Shaun staring.
“That could be about anyone,” he says, drawing my same conclusion.
“Keep reading,” I whisper, needing to know the rest.
“By some miracle, she decides I’m worthy of her love and we finally sleep together. It’s the most intense, mind-blowing, soul-satisfying sex of my life. Except I realize now, I should have come clean about those non-illegal things I did to help her out.”
De’Shaun has long deserted his styling tools.
I can’t bring my fingers or brain to concentrate on anything other than Cora’s next words.
It doesn’t matter that she’ll show up late on set, or we’ll probably run behind schedule all day. We both lean over her shoulder, anxious to know the rest of the letter.
“Because the first night we sleep together, one of her friends overhears one of my asshole friends from high school proposition me for a turn with my woman. That he’d pay me to make it happen. Only, the friend doesn’t hear the part where I tell him to fuck himself if he even thinks about making a move on my girl.” Cora lifts her gaze. “It’s good, right?”
“Read the rest!” De’Shaun practically yells.
Cora’s eyes widen, but she honors his request. “She found out about everything. She called me a liar. Which I am, but not about that. She won’t take my calls or answer my texts. She’s made it perfectly clear she wants nothing to do with me, and that I should move on without her. But I can’t. How do I let her know I never made that deal? That I love her so much I can’t even leave my house; there’s no point when she holds my heart captive. I forgot how to live the day she walked out.” Cora inhales, her brows furrowed and voice strained. “Desperately awaiting your wisdom. Signed, Mr. Dirty Dealer.”
“Daammnn.” De’Shaun whistles, his eyes wide and blinking with shock. “Okay, so maybe it’s him.”
“You think?” I all but yell.
“You know who this is?” Cora’s eyes dart from De’Shaun to me. “Wait, is this about you? Oh, my God!” Her jaw drops open and she releases a squeal. “This is so exciting!”
My mind reels. My thoughts race like a movie playing in double time, I can’t process it all. The truth, all of it, comes together and offers me an olive branch I’m almost too scared to reach for.
“Rae, honey. This changes everything.” De’Shaun says what I can’t.
“What did Ida say?” I almost rip the phone from Cora’s hands, desperation thick in my tone. “What did she tell him to do?”
“Oh, right.” Cora lifts her phone and scrolls to find her place. “Dear Dirty Dealer.” Her gaze flicks to mine, and there’s a worried expression on her lips. “Honesty is a staple of any relationship. Communication, the biggest obstacle for most couples. Try writing her a letter to express your feelings and share your truth. But understand that when we abuse trust and hurt the ones we love, they are under no obligation to offer another chance. The best of luck, Ida.”
“Well, that’s grim.” De’Shaun blanches.
My body buzzes with a restless energy. So, what? I wait for him to send a letter? That could take weeks. Or never. “What about the comments?”
“Oh, honey.” De’Shaun shares a knowing glance with Cora and shakes his head. “You never read the comments.”
“But”—I’m confused—“you just said you read for the comments.”
“When it’s not about people I care about.” Cora locks her screen and places her phone on the counter. “Believe me. You don’t want the keyboard warriors’ opinions. Not for this.”
I can’t decide whether I’m annoyed or endeared by her words.
“Shit.” De’Shaun picks up his styling tool. “We need to get back to work.” He meets my stare from over Cora’s head, picking up a section of her hair. “You good?”
“I can work,” I say, turning to my row of brushes. Focus on makeup. Get through the day. I can do this. There’s no reason I can’t. Except the thought of Jude, heartbroken in his condo with only Walter for company, is almost too much to push aside. “Last month my biggest problem was paying rent and finding reliable work.” I suck in a ragged breath. “Now . . . I . . .” Fuck. Is De’Shaun right? Does this change everything? It’s almost too much to hope. “What do I do?”
“What do you want to do?” De’Shaun asks.
“I think I need to talk to him.” I swallow thickly. “He
