There in the dark was a long-legged, dark-skinned black woman lying naked beside him staring up at him wide-eyed. It was moments before Grey realized that she had been watching him for quite some time. Her silent stare stirred his loins as he looked down at her, peering at him under long black lashes and almond shaped eyes. She lifted a brow and smiled lazily revealing pearly white teeth under still red shinning lips. Grey looked at her for a moment spellbound by the length of her seventies style afro, the contrast of dark skin against the gold belly ring and the muscular build of her brick house body.
“How long have you been up?” he asked shifting slightly towards her to whisper.
“Just a minute,” she said resting on her pillow. “Why do you look so sad?”
“Because I am,” Grey said rubbing her bare waist. “What’s your name again?”
“Loni,” she whispered.
“Loni, can you make me feel better?” Grey’s boyish luster returned and hid his melancholy exterior. He would milk this cow for what ever it was worth.
“Of course,” Loni said laughing.
***
Ivy didn’t sleep all night. She sat in the window seat of her suite looking down over the Mississippi River and rocking herself slowly. Now, dawn was at her hills, and still she was submerged in deep thought about her soon-to-be nuptials and why she was really marrying Grey. During the course of the night, she had managed to finish the book that her therapist had given her and decided that she still was not living for herself, even after defying the family’s wishes for her life. Plus, Nicola was heavy on her heart. She saw something last night in him that she had never seen before. And yet, he was at his house with their children, and she was here.
Regardless of the ever-changing emotions trapped in her body, Ivy truly loved Grey. But it wasn’t the knock down, drag out love that she used to know. She wasn’t quite sure if that type of love even existed for her anymore. Now, she was left with a shell of love, quietly hidden behind proper conversation and pleasantries designed to take away the sting of obligation and constant pain of settling. It was the perfect disposition for a pseudo-wife in a public marriage designed to gain votes. However, it was a miserable existence for a young, warm-blooded romantic who wanted to be desired as a woman and more importantly as a wife. It is my birthright to be loved and treasured, Ivy thought to herself as she held her own arms, still crying from a never-ending well of tears flowing from the pit of her stomach.
With red eyes and tear stained cheeks, Ivy watched the sunrise on her penthouse suite as she sat wrapped in a thirty-year old quilt that had been passed down to her by her mother’s mother. The sun’s brilliant hues of gold cascaded around her embellished room and awoke some strange strength in her, causing her to rise from her unsettled slumber and prepare for her future. However, there was a mystic calling in her that named her lover in soft whisper that rang in her ears. Nicola. Nicola. Nicola. But to respond to such a name would call for drastic measures, not only by her but him.
Ivy peeled out of her pajamas and stepped into the gilded golden shower. Her fingers caressed then grasped the crystal knobs releasing hot fire pellets that singed through her haze. As the hot water from the shower beat down on her soft limbs, she washed away old, cumbersome thoughts. She reached out in the water, arms stretched to the sky and tried to release her pain symbolically, praying in her silence, mumbling words to God in hopes that he might hear her. Her long brown curly hair covered her face, shoulders and back, wrapping her like a blanket from the outside world. She sighed heavily, crying out in the empty room and shaking from the powerful and exhausting emotions pulling at her like strings on a cord. Finally, she leaned forward, placing open palms on the shower tiles and allowed the water to rush down her back. As she looked down at the drain, she could see her tears falling down into the tub and marveled at how she knew the difference between the her pain-filled drops that fell like rain and the cascading river of rejuvenation coming from the showerhead. She only wished that her decision would be so clear, but it would not be clear until just the right time. Until it revealed itself, she would take the agony of not knowing what this day held for her.
Chapter Thirty-Five:
He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
Chapter 35
HE LOVES ME, HE LOVES ME NOT
“Gentlemen, could I have your attention, please,” Grey said taking up his champagne glass as the groomsmen quieted down in the back of the stretch Hummer Limo. “I’d like to propose a toast.” Grey cleared his voice and smiled visibly tipsy and enjoying the last minutes with his friends and brothers.
“Well, by all means, let me get a glass,” Mattock said in a cheerful tone.
“Matt, has anyone ever told you that you act like a black Frazier,” one of the groomsmen said laughing as they raised their glasses. Everyone laughed, even Mattock who would only tolerate the jokes because of the special time for Grey.
“No, let’s get serious for a minute,” Grey said straightening his tuxedo. “I’d like to propose a toast.” The car became silent. “To my last hour as a free, resilient man with the best men a guy could have as friends and family. As I embark
