Page 16 of Certified to Handle You 3

That was the part that made it harder to run from what I had agreed to. My family had seen enough of my life to be protective, so them openin’ up to Couture meant somethin’. They wasn’t just clappin’ ‘cause I had a ring. They was watchin’ us move together, watchin’ him sit with my mama, watchin’ him laugh with my aunties and uncles, watchin’ him take Grandma Glo’s slick mouth without gettin’ offended. They had started talkin’ to him about holidays, about family pictures about where we would live after the wedding, and the more they made space for him, the more I felt trapped by how normal it all looked.

From the outside, it probably made sense. From the inside, I was learnin’ how to breathe with one part of me showin’ up and another part of me hidin’ somewhere nobody could see.

By the next week, I had stopped takin’ the ring off every night. I wore it while I brushed my teeth, while I got dressed, while I sat in traffic and while I laid in bed starin’ at the ceilin’ longer than I should’ve. I let myself get used to the weight of it ‘cause maybe that was all marriage was at first. Maybe it was somethin’ you grew into after you stopped runnin’ from the shape of it. Maybe love ain’t always hit the same, and maybe peace had its own kind of pull when a woman was tired of bein’ dragged through every emotion she owned. I told myself that every time my chest got tight. I told myself to stop lookin’ backward. I told myself Renza had made his own choice by not answerin’, and I had to respect that even if it hurt like hell.

Tonight, Couture took me to dinner at this dim lil’ spot to celebrate the new job I had been workin’ at for the past two weeks as a medical billing specialist. The lights was low, the music was smooth and the windows looked out over the city like somebody had planned the whole place for people who wanted to forget whatever was waitin’ outside.

I wore a fitted black dress that hugged me right and dropped low enough to show the top of my chest. Couture wore an all-black designer fit that looked real good on him with the shirt open at the top. His watch was hittin’ under the light, and his cologne reached me before he got all the way in my space. His dark skin looked good as hell, his beard was thick and lined up sharp and them waves was spinnin’ every time he leaned close to say somethin’ in my ear.

He was fine as hell, and I ain’t need to lie about that just ‘cause my life was complicated.

Couture had the kind of face that made women look twice and act like they wasn’t lookin’. His smile came slow when he was tipsy, and by the second drink, he had started touchin’ me more than he had been touchin’ me at the beginnin’ of dinner. His hand moved from the back of my chair to my waist, then to my thigh under the table and he kept brushin’ his thumb over the side of my leg while he talked to me about his week. I listened, laughed when he said somethin’ funny and sipped my drink while tryna stay present with the man sittin’ in front of me.

He leaned over at one point and kissed the side of my neck slow enough for my eyes to close before I could stop ‘em. His beard scraped soft against my skin, and the liquor in my body made the touch feel warmer than it probably was. He kissed me again, lower this time, right where my neck met my shoulder, and my fingers tightened around the stem of my glass, and I ain’t pull away ‘cause it felt good. His mouth stayed on me, suckin’ light, and the tablecloth brushed my knees when I shifted in my seat.

“You smell so fuckin’ good, baby,” he said against my skin.

I turned my face toward him, and his lips found the corner of my mouth before I could answer. “Thank you,” I whispered, feelin’ the words come out softer than I planned.

Couture smiled and kissed my cheek, then my jaw and the heat in my face had nothin’ to do with bein’ tipsy. I could feel him. That was the truth. I could feel his attention, his hands, his mouth, the way he looked at me like I was already his wife and not just a woman wearin’ his ring.

Part of me leaned into it ‘cause I wanted that part of my life to be simple. I wanted to be able to sit across from my fiancé, let him kiss on me and not have my mind split itself in two, so I gave myself a second to just be here. I let my shoulder drop, let my body soften and when his hand slid over mine on the table, I turned my palm up so our fingers could lace together.

Couture’s eyes dropped to the ring, and his smile changed in a way that made my stomach move. “I like seein’ that on you,” he said.

I looked down at our hands, and for once, I ain’t snatch myself into guilt so fast. The stone shined under the light, and his thumb brushed along the side of my finger like he was admirin’ proof that I had chosen him. I swallowed and kept my hand in his ‘cause pullin’ away would’ve said more than I was ready to explain.

“It’s pretty,” I said.

“It look beautiful… just like you,” he told me, then kissed my knuckles.

I smiled a lil’, and it was real enough to scare me, ‘cause it reminded me that my feelin’s for Couture wasn’t fake. They just wasn’t clean. They was mixed with guilt, pressure, comfort, fear and a need to move on before the past swallowed me whole.

I cared about him. I liked bein’ held by him. I liked how he brought me around his people without makin’ me feel like I was on display. None of that erased what I couldn’t say out loud, but it did make leavin’ feel a lot less simple than people probably thought it should be.

Dinner kept goin’, but we barely touched the dessert he ordered. Couture stayed close with his knee pressed against mine and his mouth findin’ my neck every few minutes like he couldn’t help himself. I got warm from the drinks and from him and by the time the server came back with the bill, I was leanin’ into his side with my hand on his chest while he kissed behind my ear. My body had been so tight for weeks that it almost felt good to let somebody touch me without fightin’ myself every second.

Couture paid the bill without lookin’ at it too long. He signed the receipt, slid his card back into his wallet and looked at me like he was ready to leave before he took it too far.

“You ready, baby?” he asked.

I nodded and pushed my chair back, but he was already standin’ to help me up. He grabbed my hand, and I let him lead me through the restaurant with his fingers locked around mine. He pulled me closer to his side while we walked past the hostess stand and out into the night.

The air outside felt cool against my face after all that warmth inside. Couture kept holdin’ my hand as we crossed the parkin’ lot, and his thumb moved over my ring finger while we walked. I looked at our hands again, then looked up at him. He caught me lookin’ and smiled.

When we got to the car, he opened the passenger door and helped me in. I sat down and adjusted my dress over my thighs while he leaned in and kissed me again before closin’ the door. I watched him walk around to the driver’s side, and I hated how fine he looked doin’ somethin’ as regular as crossin’ the front of the car. He got in, closed the door, and instead of startin’ the car right away, he reached for me.

“Come here,” he said.

I leaned toward him, and he pulled me closer with his hand on the back of my neck. His mouth was on mine before I could think too much. He kissed me deep. It was slow at first, then with more hunger when my lips opened for him. His tongue slid against mine, and his hand moved to my waist while he pulled me over the console as much as the space would let him. I held on to his shirt, and the smell of his cologne wrapped around me while his beard rubbed against my skin.

The kiss did somethin’ to me. It softened me and hurt me at the same time.

I kissed him back ‘cause I wanted to. I kissed him back ‘cause he was here, warm, real and lookin’ at me like he had already built a place for me in his future.

My fingers curled in his shirt, and when he groaned low into my mouth, my eyes burned behind my lids. I kept ‘em closed ‘cause I ain’t want him to see me like this.

Couture pulled back just enough to look at me. His thumb rubbed along my cheek and his eyes moved over my face like he was tryna memorize me under the dashboard lights.