“Well, what?”
“If I would’ve asked you that question about Bianca, you would’ve given me a litany of responses.”
“Nah, I wouldn’t.”
“Yes, you would. For instance, what’s Bianca’s favorite color?”
Shrugging, I said, “It’s somewhere between burgundy and red.”
“Her favorite food to eat?”
“Any type of soup.”
“Music?”
“Hip hop. What are you tryna say, bruh?”
Kwamé smiled. “Yet, you can’t tell me one thing you love about your fiancée?”
“I’ve known Bianca for years. Of course, I know a lot about her.”
“No, bro. You got toknowher. There’s a difference.”
Again, I looked at her crazy.
“That look right there tells me everything I need to know.”
“Which is?”
“When’s the last time you thought about the Lovelaces?” Her question threw me the fuck off.
“Why the fuck would I think about them, and why are you changing the subject?”
“Because, dear brother, you must let Uriah Lovelace go and heal from those raggedy muthafuckas before you walk down the aisle withanyone.Especially if you plan on marrying a woman you don’t even love.”
Uriah Lovelace was a name I didn’t hear too often. I’d done so much to scrub my birth name from my memory. Just when I was about to argue my case about my birth parents, Kwamé shut me the fuck up.
“Listen, you here to counsel Bianca—”
“Aht, aht!Yousaid—”
“I know what the fuck I said,” I interrupted gently.
Kwamé snickered. “Exactly, bro. So, spill. Where is your head when it comes to the Lovelaces?”
Leaning back against the chair, it would be so simple to just get up and leave this conversation where it was. Truthfully, though, I respected my sister. I respected her enough to know she was keeping it a buck with me. Marrying someone with the weight of hatred on my shoulders was as good as putting said marriage inside of a coffin.
“What do you want me to say, huh?” I questioned her.
“I want you to be honest with yourself. Bianca doesn’t deserve a half-assed love.”
“Bianca? Don’t you mean Katrelle?”
“No… You know exactly who I mean. I’m not about to sit back and watch you catch the girl only to lose her because you can’t let those sorry-ass people go.”
Smirking, I said, “Bianca has told me in more ways than one that she ain’t fuckin’ wit’ me.”
“Ask her again.Afteryou break things off with Katrelle.”
