Page 11 of Embrace

“Honestly, I don’t know. I guess if I had to marry anybody, I’m glad it’s you. I don’t have to spend months getting to know you. I know everything about you, already.”

“Do you?” she asked. Her perfectly arched eyebrow rose toward her hairline.

“You kept secrets from your best friend?” I answered her question with an inquiry of my own.

“Maybe,” she answered.

“Aw, man! I can’t have a wife who keeps secrets. What’s the saying? Honesty is the best policy, baby.”

She looked away as she giggled. The song faded into another one, and I pecked her cheek. Kissing Suvi romantically would be a new experience. We’d been each other’s first kiss in seventh grade but hadn’t done it since. We never wanted to ruin our friendship by allowing the desires of the flesh to cloud our genuine love for each other.

“I have to go get changed,” she announced.

“Hmm, very convenient.”

She laughed and kissed my cheek before she allowed her sister to steal her from me. I took off my suit jacket and placed it on the back of a chair before I mingled with the guests.

“Blaze! Baby, come here!” Mama called out to me. I turned in her direction to see her and Mama Savannah seated at a table. They had their frozen margaritas in hand, so I knew they were doing their usual gossip session.

“Hey, Mama. How you doin’, Mama Vanna?” When I closed the distance between us, I kissed them both on the cheek.

“I’m on cloud nine, Blaze. I’m glad somebody finally got you and my baby together. This is damn near three decades in the making,” Mama Vanna commented. “You are so handsome in this suit. Boy, let me get a good look at you.” She instructed me to do a pose before she nodded her approval.

“We spoke this marriage into existence. I’m mad it took them this long to get married, hell.” Ma shook her head before she lifted her cup of margarita to her lips. She took a generous sip before she placed the clear cup back on the table.

“Suvi’s my girl. She’s always been my ride or die. I’m speaking for myself, but I know we didn’t want to cross any lines and put our friendship in jeopardy,” I explained.

Mama Vanna shook her head. “Chile. So, y’all gon’ see it through?”

“I mean, by the rules of the company, we have to see it through for a minimum of ninety days. They said three months should be an adequate amount of time to see how we mesh together.”

“That’s a good amount of time. I feel like y’all will embrace this marriage though. I don’t think y’all would get a divorce.”

“I hope not,” I added. “I want my first marriage to be my only marriage, like y’all.”

“It took a lot to make these marriages work,” Mama explained. “There were times when I wanted to call it quits, but my love for your dad was stronger than any issue we faced.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Our conversation fizzled to a halt when the DJ made an announcement for the groom to meet at the center of the dance floor. I looked around as everyone cheered and awaited what was to come. Someone brought out a chair, and I sat down.

The lights dimmed and a spotlight was put above me. “Crazy In Love” by Beyonce featuring Jay-Z blared through the speakers.

“What the hell?”

In sync with the beat of the song, Suvi emerged from the crowd in a new outfit. She was no longer wearing the mermaid wedding dress. Instead, she wore a skintight white dress that resembled something Tina Turner would’ve worn in concert because of the sparkling fringe covering the surface of the dress. Her heels were also diamond coated with red bottoms. She let her hair flow free as she strutted over to me.

“My dear husband, are you ready for a show?”

“Absolutely.”

Suvi spent the duration of the song doing an intense choreographed dance. She had the footwork down and her hips were moving to the beat of the music. She twerked for me, and I have to admit, I enjoyed every second of it.

When she was done, she sat on my lap to catch her breath. I chuckled and placed my hands on her waist. “You must’ve practiced every damn day. I remember you having two left feet.”

She tossed her head back with a high-volume laugh. “And did. I couldn’t embarrass myself on the dance floor. Did you like it?”

“Hell yeah. Your ass was moving like Jell-O during that twerk break you did,” I commented my observations.

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