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Imala opens her door and blinks at me a few times. I feel bad that my presence is a surprise to her. With our different interests and her being almost five years younger than me, we don’t see each other as much as we should. Then, I was banished to Hell and didn’t really mingle at my wedding because I left early.
“Hey sis,” I greet her with a hug. “I know I’ve been in my own world, and I might sound like a selfish bitch, but I need your help.”
Imala smirks and pushes her glasses up on her nose.
“I’m totally taking the big sister title for now.”
I laugh and hug her once more. “Go ahead, I’m a mess and incapable of leadership.”
Imala is responsible and levelheaded. Esme and I always joke about her being the older sister.
She waves me into the condo she was smart enough to buy. It’s girly yet simple. Low fuss, just like her.
Her wavy hair is clipped into a low ponytail. She’s like the movie nerd who’s played by the pretty girl pretending to be a nerd.
We settle on her plush navy couch. It’s so comfortable, I instantly relax. She crosses her ankles, pulls her knees to her chest, and covers them with her oversized t-shirt.
Esme and I know we all have our momma’s genes and have no problem flaunting it from time to time, but our baby sister wants no parts. She’s more interested in learning something new. We’d put her on dating apps, but she’d ignore or block the interested guys. We don’t talk about it, but I’m sure she’s a virgin.
“Whatcha got?” she asks when her curiosity takes over.
I pull out my prenup and pass it over. At that moment, Esme bursts in like she owns the condo - a habit she has at all of our homes.
“You haven’t read your prenup?” Imala shrieks at my audacity to overlook something so important. Then turns to Esme. “You know that key is for emergencies and not to be used at your leisure.”
“Ooh, my leisure. Sounds so fancy. You bitches want a drink?”
Imala and I laugh at Esme but get back to the issue.
“No. I didn’t see the point, I was being forced to marry him, regardless.”
Esme joins us with three cups of daiquiris.
“Dang it’s only been a week. Is it go time already?” Esme purses her glossy lips. “I need my bat, some acid…Wait. No. I promised to cut off his dick. He’s a big guy. I need a roofie, a knife, and some pliers…”
Imala rolls her eyes with a snort but otherwise ignores Esme as she reads..
“What size knife do I need, Karessa?” Esme pries as she plots.
“No clue. Haven’t seen it,” I admit.
Both sets of eyes stare at me as if I told them the sky is pink.
“Dang, Karessa, even I would have jumped on him by now.” My shocked guffaw makes Imala smirk. “What? I’m not so far gone in my studies that I’d miss that my brother-in-law is damn fine.”
“It’s true grumpy and alpha as fuck but fine,” Esme adds. “You’re tripping.”
I take a gulp of the drink, hoping the alcohol will calm my nerves before filling them in.
“I’m not. I’ve tried. I’ve tried hard since the moment we said our vows. He keeps shutting me down. I’ve only touched it.”
“Like he’s in the closet?” Esme asks.
I shake my head. “No. He’s very much straight. He always says ‘read your prenup.’ So I’m here to see what’s in the damn thing. There’s some kind of no sex clause.”
“It’s not an exact no sex clause,” Imala corrects. “It’s an out if you want to get out free. No sex for six months and you can annul it.”
“And if I have sex with him, I’d have to stay married forever?”
