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Part Two
REDEMPTION IN NEW ORLEANS
A Second Chance
Chapter Nine
ANISE
Scrolling through social media should be one of those mind-numbing things that took up time you couldn’t account for. Sometimes it was, but other times…
Relationship status update: Engaged.
What the fuck? It’d only been a year and three months since I’d seen him last. Was that enough time to get over me? Did I mean so little? We were just friends. But he didn’t look at me like he would one of his guy friends. He didn’t touch me like friendship was all he wanted. And the way he claimed every part of me wasn’t BFF status. Yet, that’s all we remained.
Raphael told me that the woman I’d seen in his house wasn’t his fiancee. Had that really changed? Had she somehow been better for him than I was? Or was that just a lie to get me to stay? Something had to change. Maybe that something was him.
Holding my breath, clicking to his home page, I looked at the beautiful man that I missed more than I could ever admit to anyone. In this picture, he was sitting on a stool, leaning forward, with his hands folded and kind of hanging between his knees. His gaze was intense enough for me to feel it coming through the screen. That level of seriousness was how he handled all things. Even when he was being silly, it was still intense.
Zooming into the image, I traced his face. It sucked when I came back and I couldn’t call my best friend to tell him how I felt. I shared everything with Raphael. And the fling in London ruined that. It’d become my dirty secret since I hadn’t told a single soul. My friends wouldn’t understand. And neither would my sister. I definitely couldn’t call him.
Engaged.
His first few pictures showed nothing. They were just random things with some comments. I switched to a different social media app that was his favorite. He liked to take photos of food and his coffee to show it off. If he was serious about her, she’d be in pictures with him. Damn it all to hell, because she was. It wasn’t the woman seen at his home. It was somebody else. She was beautiful. No question why he was attracted to her. Hell, I’d have dated her too. They were drinking coffee at the… wait.
I widened the image to make sure that I was reading his mug correctly. The “Bentley’s Coffee” mug made me squint in disbelief. Swiping to another photo, I saw him standing in front of the Bayou, not too far from me. I’d stop using this app because of all the notifications from his profile. He was popular with over a three hundred thousand followers. His images were always brilliant and made you want to be where he was. And look, it benefited him once again.
“Motherfucker.” I gritted my teeth to check the date. Two days ago.
An alert pinged me, telling me he added a new photo to his account. He was sitting at a restaurant with a bowl of something sitting in front of him. The second photo in the group was of a beautiful bowl of shrimp and grits with a glass of wine nearby. The third picture was a beautiful view of the city’s skyline as the sun was setting. New Orleans. My hometown. He was here.
The next photo was of him today with a post. I ignored the lines that told of how busy he was and focused on the places that he said that he wanted to visit today. He did that from time to time when he was traveling. The list was pretty spread out, but as a local, I could tell the order in which he would do them, or at least according to his food choices.
Today was supposed to be a day of relaxation and marathon binging on Jane the Virgin. A few books were waiting on my Kindle, and I had a blueberry cheesecake waiting for me to slice up. The idea forming inside my head was crazy. Not exactly one that I should contemplate at all. Shit!
Standing, pacing, and then showering only encouraged wild ideas to formulate. A quick look-see of him wouldn’t hurt, right? If I showed up where he was and happen to see how amazing he looked, it wasn’t desperate, right? Sighing, I sat on my bed regretting that I’d checked his page at all. He was engaged to a beautiful woman and moving on. Something that I needed to do too. What happened to that outstanding plan on how to spend my weekend?
Sulking into the kitchen, I removed the ingredients from the fridge for breakfast. Eggs, cheese, ham, veggies, cream, hash browns from the freezer, and bread from up top. Omelette, potatoes, and toast would be the remedy to get back on track.
Hopefully, it was a better remedy than the one that I’d had in London. Losing my job had made me reckless. I’d chosen to feel better by flying halfway across the world to see Raphael. Things were different now. There was still no man to speak for, but I had a blooming career that was panning out in marketing. Getting engaged wasn’t an option at the moment, but small strides counted too.
After making my breakfast, I sat down to enjoy it. Today was going to go as I planned it. No Raphael. Just me, my agenda, and my couch. Then maybe tonight I’d go out for a little fun. Take that Raphael. Hmph.
* * *
The evening was growing windy and cooler than the day’s earlier sun rays. My sweater was warm enough forty-five minutes ago, but lurking hadn’t helped to warm me. Maybe my instincts were off and Raphael wasn’t coming to dinner here. There also was the chance that I’d missed him or that he’d changed his mind about where he wanted his last meal of the day to be. Was that it, though?
All I wanted was to see him one last time to get it out of my system. Say my goodbyes. Seeing him with her was a reality that couldn't be unseen. That’s the reality check that I needed. I felt crazy being here right now, but rationality escaped me from the moment I'd seen him with her.
It was one thing to assume that he'd moved on and another thing to see that he really had. The assumption was a safe bet to keep me pushing forward, while the picture was a cold fact that slapped me in the face repeatedly until my eyes bled tears.
I checked his social media page again to see if he'd had any updates, but only the same one from this afternoon was visible. Exhaling defeat didn't exactly feel good. Doubts trickled in, making me spiral down the rabbit hole of helplessness. Why had I let him go? Was what I saw really all that bad or was it my own insecurities that manifested into a great big ball of “get the fuck out of here”?
A car rushed by before making a u-turn and stopping across the street. The door opened, and a man exited the car, stopping the natural flow of my existence. No air. Time froze. My chest filled with regret. And then the car pulled away, leaving him standing there to admire. He never turned around for me to see his face. His profile was more than enough.
Images of how his back felt beneath my fingertips as he kissed me came rushing back. The way he moved inside me, consuming me with a flick of his hips, making me forget anything more than how good he felt, the fresh smell of his cologne though he'd worn it all day, and the way his lips claimed mine with unspoken promises that he both were too afraid to admit.
That was Raphael. Damn if that suit didn’t fit him perfectly.
