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I look over at Persia. “If you want to make it right, now’s your chance.”
She gives me a puzzled look. I get up from my seat to give Paris a hug before she gets to our table. “Hooker, what is she doing here?” she hisses in my ear. “I don’t want to be anywhere around her.”
“Paris, please,” I whisper, helping her take off her coat. “Listen to what she has to say, for me.”
She grunts, reluctantly walking back over to the table with me. I squeeze her hand. Persia gets up from her seat, bursting into tears as she wraps her arms around Paris. Paris and I look at each other, shocked. There are very few times either of us have ever seen her cry. Paris stiffens, keeps her arms down at her side while Persia tells her how much she’s missed her; how sorry she is. Patrons in earshot are glancing over at us. I have to practically peel Persia away from Paris.
We take our seats while Persia continues sobbing. She goes to the bathroom to pull herself together. The waitress takes our drink orders. I order a cosmo for Persia and me. Paris orders a pineapple smoothie. For appetizers, I order the stuffed mushrooms.
“Paris, please work on putting this behind you and Persia. We both know she can be a bitch at times, but she’s our sister. The holidays are coming up and I want to spend them with both of my sisters, together.”
She waves her hand, dismissively. “You sound like Desmond. Trust me. I want nothing more than to put this behind me. But, it’s not that easy.”
“I know.”
Persia returns to the table with her eyes swollen and red. “Paris, I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to you. I didn’t think for one minute that you’d really care if I slept with him or not.”
Paris tilts her head. “Exactly. You didn’t think. Because, once again, the only person you were thinking about was yourself.”
“You’re right. Truth is, I did think about it. But I didn’t care. I wanted him, too. I needed to see what it was about him that you wanted to keep to yourself.”
Paris cringes as the waitress returns with our drinks. “And were you able to figure that all out?”
“Desmond seems like a really nice guy. And I knew how much he cared about you. I feel horrible for tricking him like that.”
Paris raises her brow. “Do you really?”
Persia nods. “Yes, I do. Paris, the more I slept with him, the harder it was for me to tell him the truth. And it tore me up, knowing that the person he was falling for really wasn’t you.”
“You do realize you’ve made it very awkward for me to ever bring you around him.”
“I understand that.”
“The crazy thing is he wants me to have a relationship with you. Even after what you did to him, he’s been encouraging me to talk to you.”
Paris rubs her round belly. She looks beautiful pregnant. She has her thick, long hair pulled back into a ponytail. I glance at her hand and blink.
“Is that what I think it is?” I ask, gasping.
She flashes her hand. “Yes, Desmond proposed to me over the weekend at his parents’ home.”
“Congratulations,” I squeal, digging into my bag, fishing out my own surprise “I didn’t know how lunch was going to go, but I wanted both of you here. I have an announcement to make myself.” I slip the ring over my finger, then flash them my hand. “Emerson asked me to marry him.”
“Ohmygod,” Paris says. Her voice filled with excitement. She takes my hand and inspects my ring. “Oooh, it’s beautiful.”
Persia looks stunned. “Wow, it is gorgeous. Both of you have beautiful rings. I’m happy for the both of you. Congratulations.” She looks at Paris, then me. “So things between you and Desmond are really working out?”
Paris nods. “Yeah, things are great. If anything, this entire ordeal has brought us closer together. He wants a family, and he wants me.”
“I’m happy for you.” She looks over at me. “And you’re happy with Emerson?”
“Yes, I am. I love him. And I would like to spend my life with him.”
Tears well in her eyes. “I’ve missed so much over the last few months. I feel so empty not being a part of your lives. I feel so disconnected from the two of you. For anything that I’ve ever done to wrong either of you, I want you both to know how deeply sorry I am. Paris, things with us won’t be the same, but I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
Paris gives her a faint smile, then reaches over and squeezes her hand. “I miss my sister. I’m working on forgiveness. Not for you, but for me. I’m having a baby, and want my child to have both of his or her aunts in its life.”
“And I’m getting married,” I interject. “And I want both of my sisters in my wedding.”
