Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“Who?” Arnold asked absentmindedly as he scrolled through his phone.
“Davina, man. I want to send my condolences.”
Arnold finally looked up and tilted his sweaty bald head. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Deke. I did it for you. Sent an email on your behalf. Plus, he died sometime last year. Wouldn’t make sense to bring it up again.”
Normally I would’ve been fine with Arnold taking that initiative, but this time was different. Davina needed to hear from me personally.
“Nah. I need to reach out to her myself.”
Arnold hesitated as the chauffeur slid into his designated seat behind the steering wheel. “Uh, yeah. All right. I’ll text her email address to you right now.”
“Appreciate it, big guy.”
TWELVE
DAVINA
My husband is dead.
Some mornings I forgot . . . until the reality sank in.
I squeezed my eyes shut to cool the burn and soothe the hangover. My head was throbbing, and I could do with some water and aspirin, but judging by the dishes clinking from afar and the missing wineglass that had been on my nightstand the night before, my sister was still around.
If I left this room, she’d make me leave my house to shake things up. Though we’d had a few drinks last night to celebrate Lew’s birthday early, I wasn’t up for much that morning.
There was a knock on the door, and I buried myself deeper beneath the comforter. “Go away,” I groaned.
I heard Octavia’s footsteps as she rounded the bed, then felt the mattress dip as she sat at the bottom of it. The weight of her hand pressed down on my leg, and silence lingered for a few seconds before she said, “You know it’s almost one o’clock.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So, what can I do to get you out of bed, sis?”
Nothing. There was nothing she could do to get me out of this bed right now. If I could have, I would’ve molded to it.
When I didn’t answer, she yanked the cover down, and I tried yanking it back up, but she had a better grip and threw the whole thing onto the floor.
“Davina, come on. I need you to get out of bed. I love you too much to let you rot in here.”
“I’m grieving,” I grumbled, pressing a hand to my forehead.
“Oh, now you want to grieve?”
I frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“All you do is work, and if you’re not working, you’re pretending to be busy with other things. The only reason that rebranding party isn’t happening is because Tish didn’t think it should be so close to Lew’s birthday. You agreed with her for a reason. I’ve hardly seen you cry since the week he died.”
I burrowed my face into the pillow. I hated that she was right. Other than that day I’d realized he was dead, I hadn’t cried much—not because I hadn’t wanted to, but because I’d known that if I did, I wouldn’t stop.
There had been a few tears here and there, but I’d never really sat and let it hit me. I’d never let the emotions take over until I was a blubbering mess who could hardly breathe.
“I bought your favorite Native soap—that coconut-and-vanilla one you like. I went to Target while you were sleeping and got some of that, a new body scrub, and some DOVE chocolates. I know you love those.” I cracked one eye open, and she was smiling as she slid closer. “Yeah, I got you with the chocolates, didn’t I? All you have to do is walk to the kitchen and get them.”
“I don’t feel like getting up, Tavia.”
“Please get up, Vina. If not for me, do it for Lew.”
At the second mention of his name, both of my eyes peeled open, and that quick action made my head throb. I stared at my little sister in all her natural glory—her golden brown skin and big round eyes. The tiny mole above her upper lip, which girls from our school used to think she penciled in. Her full lips, which always made her look like she was doing a cute pout.
The tips of her straw-size locs were long enough to touch her collarbones, but today she had them pulled up into a pineapple. She was one of those people who didn’t need makeup to stand out. She was effortlessly beautiful and had been since she was born.
“Lew wouldn’t want you stuck in bed like this so close to his birthday, and you know it.” Octavia’s eyes glistened, and I don’t know what it was about her eyes that day, but they caused a wrenching in my chest. My sister wasn’t much of a crier, either, but I think seeing me like this was doing something to her.
Oh, God. I couldn’t be that person—the type to ruin someone’s mood through bitterness and selfish acts. She needed me just as much as I needed her right now.