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“La’Belle.” I shook my head. “I saw your face in the alcove at the engagement party. The shit didn’t sit well with me. You were too busy being pissy, so I had Priest look into y’all. I know what you and Jody did.”
“He wants his money back. At first, it was just seven hundred then—”
“How long has that nigga been pressing you?”
Her eyes went glassy. “Since the gala. He showed up to my building after with all these documents and was in his feelings about me choosing you over him.”
I looked out at the skyline. My hands closed into fists. “Is that why you took the two-fifty?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I liquidated two hundred thousand dollars out of my portfolio and gave him four-fifty to buy myself some time.”
This fucking woman. I wanted to shake her ass so bad. “This the shit that had you stressed out and running off to Florida? You were falling apart in front of me and every time I asked, you gave me that bullshit about work.”
“I was scared—”
“Of what? Of me?” I pointed at my chest. “Fuck you think I was gonna do, Belle? I would’ve been pissed about the money, but you think I would’ve let that nigga keep coming for you?”
She buried her face in her hands. “If I told you, then you’d know that I was selfish and a liar. I told myself your money wasn’t real to you the way mine was to me, and that made it okay.”
I stood and walked to the railing. She was curled up in the lounge chair, looking smaller than I’d ever seen her. The same woman who boxed the shit out of me and spit in my face was sitting here looking like a kid who’d been caught red handed.
“Why are you telling me now?”
“I’m tired, Dez. I’m tired of carrying this by myself. I’m tired of lying to you.” She looked up. “We’re getting married, right? You should at least know everything so you can figure out how you wanna deal with me.”
I sucked my teeth and sat back down next to her. We were quiet for a minute, a siren wailing below filling in the silence.
“Gideon’s not your problem anymore,” I said.
She wiped her face. “Dez—”
“I’m not asking. Whatever he thinks you owe him or whatever else is deaded. You brought me the problem. Let me be the solution.”
“Should I even ask what you’re gonna do?”
“No.”
She chuckled softly. “Marco was right.”
“What’s that?”
“He told me that I’m basically a Montague and my problems are yours.”
“He’s right.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “You should’ve told me about Gideon, Belle. That’s what’s blowing me right now. Because I was right here this whole time and you insisted on doing that hyper-independent woman shit.”
“I know.”
“If you’d told me when it started, it would’ve been dealt with.”
“I know that now. And everything is laid out. This is my truth and your ass is still sitting here. So, you're either crazy or—”
“Or?”
She almost smiled. “Or your friend was right about you caring about me.”
“That nigga talks too much.”
We sat in silence again, the air around us felt lighter. Like the thing that had been hovering over us had finally started to dissipate.
