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Chapter 7

  • I don't recall how long I stand there after Brandon leaves but it's long enough for my legs to ache and my knees to feel like jelly. I crumble to the bed and in annoyance, put my hair in one big, messy bun and unbutton the first three buttons of my gown.
  • To hell with Brandon and my attraction to him. I am so over him. My body seems to disagree with me because there's a sudden throbbing in between my legs which barely lasts a second. I bury my face into one of the pillows and let out an ear curdling scream.
  • Tears sting my eyes, I sink my teeth into my lip to stop them from falling. This isn't what I bargained for. My eyes dart to his shirt strewn across the bed, I pick it and sniff. Then groan at my pitiful self.
  • That man is frustrating. He hates virgins. He hates jewellery. He hates gifts. Soon enough, I'll hear him say he hates the colour of my skin. I push myself into a sitting position. If he ever says that to me, it won't be the first time I will be hearing it from a white, entitled male but it will be the last time I talk to him.
  • Closing my eyes to block out images and voices from years ago, a dull ache spreads throughout my chest. This isn't what they said marriage is all about, it will be hard but the good times are more than the bad times. I rub a finger up and down my arm, smiling wistfully at my melanin skin. Black is beautiful.
  • I didn't pick my skin colour but I can do something about this damn virginity. Jumping from the bed like I've been bitten by electric ants, I make to move towards the door and my new goal but stop. Do I really want to cheat on my husband a day after our wedding? I groan and bite my lips.
  • Do I still term it cheating when it is just a means to an end? And what will Brandon say or do, will he pull a Kim Kardashian on me? Serve me divorce papers on the second day of our marriage? I can care less.
  • But what of Ma? She still needs the money he's sending to reopen her pharmacy; the renovation is almost done. If I don't care what he thinks about me, I care for Ma's blessings and opinions, her and Pa. I want them to know they raised their daughter right. But. Argh. Brandon just makes it so difficult.
  • Doesn't he have a family? Is he aware he came into this world because his parents had sex? Sex he is so graciously denying me of. I pause my thoughts, Brandon's parents, they didn't come for his-our wedding.
  • Now that I think of it, there was no family member from his side present at the wedding except for business associates he was eager to introduce me to. Men without shame who ogled me in his presence.
  • Pa said he has one sibling and even that one sibling was absent. What kind of family misses their son or brother's wedding? And what did he mean by he has been called worse names than a monster? Pa said he is a good man and I know his parents are alive, Pa mentioned it in passing. Where are they?
  • Fear courses through my veins, my heart picks up speed and I forget how to breathe properly for a moment. I hope Pa hasn't gotten me into one big mess under the guise of helping our family land back on their feet. I love Pa and Ma but I am too young to get caught in a web of family drama.
  • What if he's in the Mafia? A picture of Brandon in knee length coat, a gun tucked into his waistband and a cigar sticking out from one side of his mouth clouds my vision. I burst into laughter, clapping my hands in glee, surprised my mind can come up with such image.
  • With the cigar, he looks off but the gun seems to fit with his persona. My thoughts come to a standstill, I shudder and shivers run down my spine, fighting against that voice growing louder in my head. I shake my head to disperse that image, my active imagination is at work again.
  • Brandon doesn't need a gun.
  • My fingers find their way into my hair and I grab a handful. Why didn't I just take a look at the file Pa gave me before burning it? Now, I am left with questions upon questions which I am certain Brandon won't do me the courtesy of answering. I should have taken a glance, at least. Just one look.
  • Pings from my phone draw me back from my reverie, I pick the sleek device from under the pillow to take a look at the notifications flooding my screen. I will never understand the timing of Clarissa messages, maybe it is some divine miracle to brighten my day but my cheeks hurt from smiling too much as my fingers swipe on my screen.
  • Each meme brings tears to my eyes, laughter tears through my lips, I highlight my favourites and make snarky, funny comments under them. She responds almost immediately, our back and forth goes on for a few minutes until she has to go. I nod, saddened by her message but feeling much better than I did earlier.
  • The low growl and the violent tightening of my stomach remind me of my latest bad habit which is skipping meals. I haven't had a solid meal in two days, Ma will have a near heart attack if she hears this.
  • With Brandon's invitation for lunch still ringing in my ears, I skip out of the room after a swipe of nude lipstick across my lips. It will get tougher before it gets easier, our marriage isn't like the usual ones but I am willing to go through the tough times with him. I want us to work.
  • Brandon and I have to talk. And we can start that over lunch.