Mama had met him once during a dinner at Luther’s and my place and had told me the next day that she didn’t like him. That was in the beginning of our relationship. I remember being so upset with her for being judgmental and not accepting him, but now I could see why she’d said it.
She’d seen something in him that I couldn’t see. Something ...dangerous. Davina said something when she met him, too—that there was something off about him. But my sister, though fiercely protective, knew when to back off. She told me I would see the truth eventually.
Luther would tell me that my family was crazy for thinking so badly about him, and I let him manipulate me into thinking my family actuallywerethe crazy ones.
“If I were you, I would delete his email and act like you never saw it. Your life is way better without him in it, sis.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “You’re right.” I whipped out my phone, went to my emails, and surfed until I found it. “Deleted,” I said after hitting the trash icon. I don’t know why I hadn’t done that sooner. That action alone brought me so much relief.
But that same night, while alone in the guesthouse, hearing crickets chirp and the wind rustle, I took it upon myself to search for Luther on Instagram.
I hadn’t done this in years, but there was something niggling at my brain, begging to see if he had changed. His Instagram handle was the same.LuthTooReal.
“Stupid username,” I mumbled.
His most recent image was of him posing with a group of men. They all wore the same pastel-blue shirts with a logo on the chest.
CordTech.
The next image showed him dressed in a suit, standing in front of a church, with the captionPraise Godand the prayer-hands emoji.
Last I checked, Luther had too much of a god complex to consider religion.
Another image showed him sitting on the beach with the captiontrying to let go of regrets.
That’s when I closed the app.
My heart was much too soft to go through his pictures, reminiscing about certain things, like how well kept his beard was or the dark waves in his hair. That light-brown skin, the crooked smile, and those ocher eyes.
Luther was attractive, but his looks were deceptive. Maybe he had changed. Maybe he hadn’t.
But for what it was worth, I really hoped he was a better man. If he truly had altered his ways, I wished him all the luck in finding someone who found him worthy.
Twelve
Octavia
The Ravens won the semifinals and were headed to the conference finals.
Javier had to leave early to fly to Houston, which meant I was up an hour prior to his leaving to shower and get dressed so I could make it to the mansion.
As I walked in through the back door, I spotted him sitting on one of the barstools in the kitchen, scrolling through his phone. He heard the door and lifted his head. Wisps of his hair fell into his eyes as he did that. He was going to need a haircut soon.
“Good morning,” I murmured.
“Morning.” He slid off the barstool, pushing his hands into his front pockets when he stood. “I am just waiting for Jackson to get here with the car.” Jackson was his driver.
“Gotcha. No issues with Leesa this morning?”
“None at all. Last I checked, she was drooling all over her pillow.”
I laughed. “Good.”
His eyes lingered on mine for several seconds before he straightened up and said, “Oh—before I leave. I meant to give you something last night after the game but forgot.”
He made his way toward his bag on the floor in the foyer. After digging through one of the larger pockets, he pulled something out and twisted around to face me again.
“For you,” he said, handing a book to me.
