Irish rode passenger seat as Ivory drove them to the salon. After two weeks of sulking about her breakup with Noble, she felt it was time to pamper herself. Her hair was the first stop, then nails and lastly, a wax. Thank God for Ivory’s presence because she had kept the business intact while Irish drifted into the place of despair. She wanted nothing more than to wallow in her bed and listen to sad-ass love songs about love lost. Unfortunately, Irish couldn’t afford to do that. Besides, being sad didn’t feel good so she pushed herself out of bed, hoping some of her joy would return.
“I don't like Jovanis anymore,” Ivory revealed, approaching a red light.
“Because of him flipping out?”
She nodded. “Yeah, he did too much. Yoking you up like a nigga off the street then fucking up the house. I don't fuck with him anymore.”
Irish couldn’t blame her. Jovanis had been in rare form that night and went past the boundaries they’d set. Putting his hands on her was a violation, so Irish understood Ivory’s stance.
“…He came to apologize about everything. Tried to give me flowers and gifts but I didn’t want them.”
“Good ‘cause the minute you start accepting gifts for his bad behavior, the more he’s going to act out.”
Irish smirked at her wisdom. For her to be only nineteen years old, Ivory had her head on straight.
“So, what about the man you were creeping with? Is that done?”
Why did you bring him up?
Discussing Noble was a topic Irish wished to bypass. Only because it hurt not to be with the man that had infected her with love so pure, she never wanted to be cured.
“Can we talk about something else?”
Ivory glanced at her, wearing a smirk. “Why?”
“Because,” she groaned. “I had to end it and I’m sad about that. I don't even wanna talk about him.”
Irish looked at her screen, hoping to see a notification from Noble. She wished to hear the nickname that only he was allowed to call her. The only souvenir she had of their relationship was the diamond pumpkin necklace that she refused to take off.
“You shouldn’t have ended it. I’m sure Jovanis had a side bitch. Why you gotta give up yours when it was agreed that it was an open marriage?”
“I told you already that the open marriage isn’t the problem. It’s the person who I engaged in an affair with.”
“Who is it?”
“You don't know him.”
Ivory twisted his lips. “Try me.”
Irish rolled her eyes. “Noble.”
“Noble… Noble? That name sounds familiar, but I can’t put a face to it.”
“I knew you wouldn’t know him. Y’all don't run in the same circles.”
“Well, what’s so bad about him? Why is Jovanis so mad?”
“Because he’s basically his boss. Noble calls the shots in TLM.”
“Ooohhh,” Ivory drawled. “I get it but so what? He don't get to dictate who you can deal with.”
Ivory had no clue the depths she and Jovanis’ marriage had, and she didn’t intend on explaining it.
“It’s complicated, Ivory, and I don't wanna get into it right now. All I want to feel is Rozalin scrubbing my scalp in the shampoo bowl.”
“Cool.”
They arrived at the salon and parked in the lot. The two walked into the sounds of chatter. When their presence was known, talking immediately ceased. She didn’t miss the dirty look Shay gave her from across the room. Irish had been in such a sullen hole that she had temporarily forgotten about her being Noble’s ex-wife.
