“This isn’t me trying to get you back,” he says. “I fucked up. None of what I did was right. But I am sorry.”
“Mm-hmm.” Elle cannot finish this bottle soon enough.
“They say you become the people you surround yourself with, and when I didn’t have you with me, I stopped having a reason to be . . . good. Because that’s what you are. Good. All the way into your bones. And I threw that away because Imissed you. That’s dumb as hell.”
He’s right. “Is this growth I see?”
“I hope so.”
He steps closer, and I don’t shy away. Weird vibrations fill the air between us. A mixture of history and hostility.He does smell good, though.
Looking down at Elle, he says, “It would be stupid of me to expect you to forgive me for what I did, but I hope you can forgive me fortaking up your time. I promise I had every intention of being with you for life. God, fate, karma—whatever controls this shit—knew I wasn’t good enough for you.”
Traitorous tears sting my eyes. “You made me thinkIwasn’t good enough. You made me think I was broken.”
“You’re perfect, babe. But we weren’t perfect for each other.”
The good times we shared, the years of love and intimacy that existed between us, I don’t miss them. I miss being someone who isn’t scarred by betrayal. I miss being the person who could give in to love without fearing it could end any minute and I’d be left alone again, unable to stand on my own.
Elle gurgles, taking no more from the bottle. I put her on my shoulder, giving me the perfect way to hide my emotions from David.
“I’m really sorry, Bri. I hope you can forgive me enough to be friends again one day.”
“You know I’m not great at that.”
“Forgiveness? Or pretending to be friends with someone?”
“Yes.”
He lets out a low laugh. “Can we keep it copacetic for Christmas, at least? Try for amiable next year and friendly a year or two after that?”
I take a deep breath to calm myself. On the exhale, I feel part of my anger leave my chest. David can be nothing to me if I let him, and the resentment, go.
“We can be amiablethisyear. For Elle’s sake.”
His lips stretch into a grin. “Thanks, babe.”
“If you call me that one more time I will slap you with a dirty diaper.”
His laugh booms, the sound releasing tension from the room. “Okay, I’m sorry. Thank you,Bri.”
I allow the smile that comes.
“Everything good in here?” Keisha appears behind us.
“I was just leaving,” David says, giving me one last look before exiting the room.
“You okay?” she asks me.
I nod. “We’re okay,” I say, and I mean it.
~
The rest of Christmas was uneventful, the way I wanted it to be. Against my insistence on no gifts, I received a much-needed sweater, a print of theWomanhoodpainting I’d requested for the apartment I still don’t have, and a designer necklace I’ll pretend Junie got for free when she bought one for herself.
Junie sits on the couch with Elle, watching her with a twinkle in her eye. I know what that look means.
I love Elle. She’s basically the cutest baby to ever exist, but when I get to hand her back, I’m quite happy about that. When Junie hands her back to Keisha, she pauses, as if hoping there will be a time when she doesn’t have to hand a baby to someone else.
