Angel’s chest heaved as she inhaled deeply. “Uhm, smile for the camera,” she muttered.
The second picture was snapped before I had a chance to turn away from staring at her. Belle started wiggling and crying, and I realized that she was smooshed between us. We readjusted once more as the next picture was taken. By the time the fourth picture was captured, we finally had our bearings. We smiled as the camera took a few more pictures before Angel declared we were finished.
“I need to see those before you post them.”
“Of course. But don’t tell me that you don’t like them all, so I can’t post them.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
Angel grabbed her camera and came to sit beside me, where I had returned to the couch. She showed me the pictures, and we both agreed not to post the first one. It somehow felt too intimate. On the second one, she was staring into the camera like a deer in headlights, and I was staring at her like I was going to eat her up.
We settled on three pictures out of all the ones that had been taken. The entire time she was trying to come up with the perfect caption, I was trying to navigate the inevitable fallout in my mind.
I knew that eventually Jeremiah and Erica would see these photos. There was less of a chance that Erica would see them than Jeremiah. Since she and I broke up, we hadn’t stopped following each other, but because I knew that she carefully curated her posts, she probably didn’t see mine as much as I saw hers.
Jeremiah, on the other hand, often interacted with my posts. I had no idea how he would respond to me being in such anintimate setting with his ex. A part of me didn’t give a shit, because he hadn’t treated her right while he had her. But the other part of me did care because Jeremiah and I had been best friends since middle school. We trusted each other, and I didn’t want him to think that I’d been waiting for him to move out of the way so that I could move in on his ex.
“Are you okay?” Angel asked.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“If you don’t want me to post these, I won’t,” she stated softly.
“I’m good, Angel. I promise.”
“Okay.” She busied herself with her phone again before we settled in to watch the movie.
Angel and Belle fell asleep halfway through the third movie,This Christmas. Angel had fallen asleep against my shoulder.
I moved my arm because it was falling asleep, and she snuggled into my chest. I wrapped my arm around her and stared at her beautiful, peaceful face.
Angel moved until her head rested on my lap. I moved the hair back away from her lips and fought with myself not to caress them. I didn’t want to be a creep, but I couldn’t help but think that this was what I wanted.
Why was I fighting what I asked for? I wanted a family with Erica, and she didn’t. Sometimes God gave us exactly what we asked for, just maybe not the way that we thought He should.So who’s to say that Belle and Angel aren’t the family that I’ve always desired?Maybe that was why Jeremiah had to go away, so that I could have her and Belle.
Maybe she was never meant to be Jeremiah’s. Angel was always so welcoming whenever I visited them. She always prepared a drink for me and invited me to stay for dinner. She kept a clean house, a refrigerator filled with Jeremiah’s favoritesnacks, took excellent care of herself, and had her man’s back no matter what.
That nigga had to be crazy to pass all that up. So what his new girl, Ella, was the daughter of the CEO of the company Jeremiah worked for? She always knew about Angel, but she would rather creep with him until he broke it off with Angel. That wasn’t the type of woman I would want, no matter how much money she came with or what type of promotion she could get me. I was honestly content with my life, but I could be happy with what I had around me.
Chapter 8
Angel
“They’re too much hassle, that’s why.”
“That’s not a good explanation, Angel. That sounds like the sorriest excuse I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, how about the fact that our trees were always artificial? If they were good enough for my mommy and grandma, then they’re good enough for Belle and me.”
“Where’s your fun? Where’s your spirit of the season? Part of the magic of the season is getting deeply involved in every aspect of it.”
“And you don’t think I am, by decorating an artificial tree?” I demanded with my hands planted on my hips.
“No, I don’t. You’re missing out on the best parts of it, Angel, and robbing Belle of the chance to have those same memories.”
“I’m not robbing her of anything, Chris. She’s six months old. Do you honestly believe that she’ll recall that we were out here chopping trees for Christmas when she was a baby?”
“I do. It’ll be imprinted in the recesses of her brain. As she grows older, there will be things that happen in life that trigger a certain nostalgia for her. While she may not associate it with this particular tradition, she’ll have it, and it will feel good to her.”
