“You’re a good friend, Malia Clark,” she declared.
“I’m not your friend, honey.I’m your sister.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“No!”I shouted, she jumped, so I calmed myself down.“It’swaterproof, but let’s not take any chances with your makeup.”
“Right, right,” she mumbled.
I nodded to Miss Vanessa.
She pulled open the door.
I grabbed the bouquet, got out, stopped to open the backdoor, nabbed Toni’s shoes, and after Lena gave me athat bitch is crazybug-eyed look, which I returned with ajust wait until you get marriedsmug-eyedlook (yes, we were sisters, we could communicate like this), we all headedinto the church.
My heart was awash with love.
Because it was an amazing day where my best friend wasmarrying a good, decent, hard-working, loving man.
And because my boy was her ring bearer.
He looked adorable in his little tux with his back straightand his shoulders squared, taking his duty of holding that frilly pillow asserious as if he was delivering a promise of forever bliss from a merciful Godto the altar.
He was such a cutie.
I was standing in my maid of honor spot, preening (I was aproud momma, I had no regrets) and smiling at him, when I felt something funnytickle the hairs on the back of my neck.
I tore my gaze from Liam, who was staring with hyperalertness at the spot he was supposed to walk to, ignoring the flower girlbeside him making a show with her ivory petals (I’d noticed during rehearsalsshe was very extra), and looked to the last pew at the back of the church.
It was then, my heart stopped beating.
Darius stood there, looking a thousand ways of fine in adark suit, his gaze riveted to his son.
Oh God.
Oh shizzle.
Ohshizzlestickstimes ahundred.
I’d been right, he hadn’t been able to stay away from me.Heshowed at my house, always when Liam was spending the night with hisgrandparents or Auntie Lena, so he could spend the night with me.
And I’d been right again, he couldn’t hack it.
He had to see his boy.
I’d told him Toni was getting married and she’d asked Liamto play his part.He’d agreed, because he loved his Aunt Toni, he loved hisUncle Tony, and “I’m gonna look awesome in a tux” (his words).
And Darius hadn’t been able to stay away.
Helpless, I stood at the front, watching the emotions washover my man’s face.Pride.Love.Desolation.Pain.
My hand tightened on my bouquet as my throat constricted.
His gaze shifted to me, and I forced a swallow.
Because all that was left was the pain.
I ripped my gaze from his to watch our son walk to where hewas supposed to stand, in front of Tony’s best man.
