Page 12 of Tension

“She mentioned some place she stayed at when she first moved down here,” I said, trying to remember the name.

They both looked at me, eyebrows raised. I ignored it and pulled it up on my phone.

“I think it was called Escapes.”

It was about an hour away, just outside the city.

“We can check it out, but how will we know what room she’s in?” LL asked.

“Leave that to me,” Nia said, like we were in some spy movie.

We pulled into Escapes Resort and Spa at the same time. The place was peaceful, with manicured paths winding between standalone units that looked more like private little apartments than hotel rooms. Each one had its own entryway, a couple of windows, and a small porch out front.

Nia hopped out of the car, adjusting her outfit. She tugged her shirt down in the front, hiked it up around the back, threw on some oversized sunglasses, then pulled a wide-brimmed hat from the trunk.

I was thrown off.

LL looked both entranced and entertained.

“Man, what did this girl do to you?” I asked, side-eyeing him.

He didn’t look at me, his loving eyes still on his fiancée. “Same thing Chris is doing to you.”

I rolled my eyes, choosing not to respond. Honestly, what was she doing to me?

Nia strolled in like she owned the place, fake-talking on her phone as she headed straight to the check-in desk. “I need to review the charges on my room. Christina Banks.”

Then she turned her back, still fake-chatting like she got more important things to deal with.

The clerk looked like they wanted to ask more questions, but instead just printed out the charges, not wanting to deal with the diva in front of him. Nia snatched the paper without a word and walked off like a boss. When she got back to us, she lowered her sunglasses. Her eyes wide, like she surprised herself.

We got to Chris’s door, and I banged on it just like she did on mine.

“Damn, we ain’t the police,” Nia muttered as Chris opened the door, looking and smelling like hell.

“Oh, baby,” Nia said, pulling her into a hug.

Chris melted into her like she’d got no tears left. It pissed me off that she was crying over that nigga.

“How y’all even find me?” she asked, voice low, somewhere between grateful and tired.

“We followed the smell, Honeydew,” I joked as we stepped into the living room area.

Chris glared at me like she wanted to cuss me out, then just crumbled into tears.

I was thrown.

“My bad, I was just tryna lighten the mood.”

Guilt crept in fast.

Nia led her to the back room, talking softly and low, like she was walking with a child. I started picking up bottles and trash, the silence heavy. I’d never seen depression like this. A nigga had some shit he needed to push through, but this was different.

The beauty on the outside was a stark contrast to the mess inside. It reflected the turmoil I knew Chris was going through.

By the time LL and I finished cleaning up, Chris and Nia came back. Chris looked better. Her hair was combed, and she smelled fresh. But that glow I loved wasn’t back.

“I got Chris to agree to leave the room. Just for food,” Nia said, grabbing her bag.