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“No,” I lied.
“And that’s why you pretended not to notice me when you arrived tonight?”
“I didn’t notice you. You blended into the crowd.” Another lie.
“You love me, Brooklyn Skye?”
My heart stopped, breath caught in my chest. “W-what?”
“Do you love me, baby?”
Baby? Well, there went my clit, jumping rope. “I was drunk.”
His eyebrows shot up. “So, you remember telling me that?”
“Yes, and I remember what you said in response.”
“What? That I love you, too?”
“Yes,” I said softly, still standing there behind the open door between us. My legs felt weak. Hell, my heart felt weak. What was happening?
“I do. Don’t act like it’s the first time I’ve told you that.”
I scoffed, “You didn’t mean it then. You don’t mean it now.”
He chuckled bitterly. “So, you know what’s in my heart? What was in my heart back then and never left. You told me you loved me, too, and you married a-whole-nother motherfucker!”
“Because you didn’t want me!”
“That’s a fucking lie!”
“A lie? Alie?!”
“Yes, a got damn lie! I ain’t never said no shit like that and you know it! I loved you. Istilllove you! I never stopped loving you!”
CHAPTER21
VANN
TWELVE YEARS EARLIER—ROMEY UNIVERSITY-GRADUATION WEEKEND…
Like most HBCUs, Romey University’s spring graduation was held on Mother’s Day. I supposed it was a traditional gift to the women who often sacrificed so much to see their children succeed. I know mine had. She’d raised me and my sister alone while caring for her younger brother and nursing a broken heart simultaneously. Not to mention her healing calling that she was ostracized for. She’d endured a lot and deserved two college graduate children. I just wished I’d done more with my life than run away from her, but I didn’t feel equipped to do anything else. I didn’t—shit, I was just plain messed up in the head.
I sat in the Romey U football field bleachers watching the commencement ceremony sandwiched in between my mother and Rabbit, having made it into town the day before. At the time, I was living in Jamaica—Montego Bay, one of my top five places to live, working at a resort. I loved Jamaica.
After homecoming week, Brooklyn and I had kept in touch—phone calls, text messages. Not every day or even every week, but a few times a month. I’d gotten to know her a little better and missed her more with each day. She stayed on my mind, and if I didn’t have firsthand knowledge of how stressful and hectic graduation weekend could be, I would’ve hit her up the second I stepped on Romey, Tennessee, soil. As it was, I was forced to handle a Brooklyn induced hard dick on my own, as I’d done many times over the months between Homecoming and now, but if I had my way, I was going to be knee deep in her pussy before nightfall.
The boring but traditional parts of the program were over, and the graduates were now being conferred their diplomas. As per usual, family and friends disregarded pleas to hold their applause until the final School of Psychology graduate’s-name was called, shrieking and hitting with pride almost continually.
“Asher Michael Daniels…Mark Lamar Davy—cum laude…Nadia Angelique Day—summa cum laude…”
My mother screamed and I joined in, almost forgetting this was Sharla’s good friend, repeating the action when the School of African American Studies’ Dean announced Sharla Odette London’s name followed by summa cum laude. Well, I actually kind of lost my mind on that one, barking like a dog and yelling, “That’s my baby sister!”
“When they announce her friend, Brooklyn’s name, School of Music, don’t forget to cheer for her, too,” my mother advised me. I nodded, shifting on the bleachers and willing my dick not to get hard from the mention of her name coming from my mother’s mouth. That shit just wouldn’t be right.
I nodded in response, feeling my chest constrict. When Brooklyn walked across that stage, it would be the first time I’d seen her in months. I was going to have to fight like my name was Shane Mosley to keep myself from hopping my big ass up and running to the stage to fuck her right there in front of a stadium full of people. Yeah, I had it bad.
I grew anxious, my eyes searching the sea of royal blue robed men and women sitting on the turf in folding chairs before the platform, trying to find her, but it was a futile attempt. This graduating class was huge, full of virtually nothing but brown faces. Still, my soul was crying out to see her, to be in her presence again, to hold her, to feel her, to…love her. Yeah, if I hadn’t figured out anything else, it was clear to me that what I felt for this woman was far beyond spiritual. She was deep in my heart. Deeper than anyone else except my mom and sister.
