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ChapterOne
Part III
February | Three Years Later
The music was soft, slow, and tormentingly sad, and I refused to look at the casket just yet while in transit. I did catch eyes with the guy sitting at the drum set. He quickly tossed a knowing glance to the organ player. It was a rapid exchange, but one I knew, and was able to confirm it when the organ player’s eyes turned hooded, and he licked his lips.
Forcing my attention ahead, I told myself to just get through this ceremony, and then I’d be on my way back to Costa Rica. I’d just be a support today and then return to my real world. I was third in line, being shown to our seats. Following my father, I sat next to him on the first pew. Noelle had the aisle seat, causing us to sandwich our father. Once seated on the hard, wooden bench, I caught view of her.
Ughhh!
I cringed at the mini yellow dress she wore. While practically having the body of an adult woman, Noelle was still just a child and was dressed inappropriately, especially for an occasion such as this. The dress I’d ordered for her had arrived two days ago; this I knew for sure. Also, in her shoddy text responses to me, she assured me she’d received it as well as the shoes I purchased for her fromSaks Fifth Avenue. Simple black, three-and-a-half-inchSam Edelmanpumps were more than perfect for today. But instead, the ratchet child paired the off-the-shoulder canary yellow mini dress with the skirt portion ruffled, black tights, and yellow pleather, strappy sandals. My baby sister looked a horrible sight.
More than that, my father had nothing to say when we met with her in front of the church just short minutes ago. He did a double-take with a reactive grunt I knew to express his shock, but the man never whispered a word of concern to his daughter, which bugged me. It always annoyed me. But I couldn’t focus on that right now. Nothing could be done, making me question my decision not to fly in last night and have her stay with me. That special accommodation for Noelle would be one I’d have to get used to moving forward. No, I had not the capacity right now. But whether I was ready or not, life had dealt another unexpected blow. I had to extend myself to my sister in a more dedicated way. My heart bled, understanding life would never be the same for her.
Lattice!
My lashes fluttered then eyes rolled away nearly as fast as they arrived upon her corpse, lying in a casket. This was so fucked up. Cancer. It ravished her within a year. The damn thing attacked her lungs and metastasized so quickly, our collective heads spun. Well, perhaps not Daddy’s. My attention went to him, gazing stoically at the earthly remains of his former lover. I wondered about his thoughts. Had he any regrets with Noelle’s mother? Did he have true love for her? Were there any internal apologies for his neglect of commitment to her…their child? Was Noelle a love child or one of ugly circumstances?
I cleared my throat, squaring my shoulders. Well, for me, Noelle was a wonderful addition to the world, mine especially. She was strong and determined and far more aggressive than I was at her age. In my rumination, I knew it was because, up until my mother left, I was highly tended to by both my parents. I never wanted for anything, never experienced a desire unmet by one or both Noel and Celestine. If Noelle had an effective advocate all these years, it would have been me—at least, I hoped she felt that way.
My father’s protruding belly moved imperceptibly, eyes gazing ahead were blank, and sausage fingers were splayed on his wide-spread thighs. What was going on in that brain of his? More importantly, what had Noelle been feeling, seeing her mother’s last earthly remains stiff, cold, and expired in thatcoff—
An unnerving yet distinctive shiver coursed my spine, beginning at the base of my neck. When my belly flipped in a betraying way, I found myself glancing over my left shoulder. A few heads had been turned in the same direction, too, as a tall, urbane figure entered through the side of the sanctuary where my family had minutes ago. It seemed as though the entire room seized at his seductively dark, commanding countenance. The insouciance to his magnetic presence could have been comical if I didn’t know it to be authentic.
The dark charcoal wool suit caped his fit frame with perfection. Those dark wild coils on his head appeared hydrated and trimmed well against his forehead and neck. His head swung left and right, adjusting to his place in the grand room while detaching the button of his jacket. His jaw, lined with a goatee—thick, dark, and cut with precision—flexed as his eyes narrowed in search. My heart beat wildly with an unreasonable response to his mere presence. They—those dark, intentional, passion-filled eyes—found me first, as they always had. I could then tell when he registered the juxtaposition of my family.
He wasn’t alone. Ava, gazing over the room as well, silently waved him over to follow her. They meandered to an available pew about seven rows behind us. With a stiff spine, now from annoyance, I faced ahead again.Hewas here. Of course, he would be. The man had irrevocably entwined himself in my life for the unseeable future.
“Jas!” Noelle wasn’t discreet with her volume as she craned her spine to peer toward the back of the church. “Here!” I didn’t need to turn my body to see she pointed to the nearest pew behind us.
Of course, she’d saved him a seat. Ojasvi Sinclair could do no wrong in Noelle’s impressionable eyes. The question at this point was how many seats had Noelle reserved. It took mere seconds to smell his enthralling cologne, which wasn’t how I knew Jas had arrived. It was the scent interweaved with his cologne. His natural body oils, something forever clawed into the meninges of my mind and rusted in the walls of my hollow chest.
I leaped when his big, hot hand landed on my shoulder. “Ashira,” Jas whispered my name in greeting with intimate authority. The single act shocking me into silence. It was foolish of me not to expect him to speak. No matter the circumstance, Ojasvi Lamont Sinclair would clear a path to me…without provocation, much less my request. My father stood to greet him with a firm shake next, which Jas accepted, pulling his gaze from me.
“Sorry for your loss, Witherspoon,” Jas’ thick cords produced fluently to my father.
“Oh!” my father chirped. “No worries at all.Uhhh…” He cleared his voice, likely understanding the misstep in his response. “Noelle’s glad to have you here!”
I remained seated, facing the elevated pulpit ahead, hearing their exchange with a beating pulse reverberating in my head.
“Say less. I wouldn’t miss it, baby girl,” Jas swore in a rasp in an effort to keep his voice low.
I could sense when Noelle embraced him in a hug. “Thank you, Jas.”
“I’m so sorry,” Jas whispered. “I’m here for you forever. You heard?”
Noelle didn’t reply verbally at first, but I imagined once she’d finally broken their deep hug was when she shrieked, “Thank you! Sit right there. I saved you a seat. You need another one?”
That’s when I did turn to face him, my request of his audacity seized by his handsome features. Those dark, entrancing eyes protected by thick lashes softened as they latched onto me. I wouldn’t fall into the trap, though. I couldn’t. Instead, I remembered how my best friends were here in support of Noelle, but none had a seat reserved in the first two rows. And if my best friends weren’t given priority seating, I knew Jas’ “assistant” was not about to be granted it. And especially because mine was at the back of the church.
With hooded eyes expressing a passion far more penetrating than lust, Jas shook his head softly. Gazing at me, he murmured, “Nah. I’m good right here.”
Inadvertently rolling my eyes, I turned forward just as the suited man at the microphone on the pulpit was announcing service was starting.
It was sad.
The funeral service was extremely long and impossibly morose. To see my sister brave a stony veneer, breaking down just twice—once when the casket was closed to begin the service and then when it closed for the final time after the eulogy—was a test of my emotional intelligence. Yes, Noelle would be affected and incredibly tearful. It was to be expected. But between trying to keep an eye on her wretched disposition, keeping mine in check, and enduring the gloomy melodies of the organ and wailings from family like Lattice’s sister, Brenda, it was all too much.
