Page 121 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis
“Oh shit,” Frankie said, “there is a but,” they sighed together.
I rubbed my temples harder. “Y’all are stressing me out.”
“Come on, Naomi. We know you. Tell us what it is so we can move past it.”
“Okay. So maybe there’s a small but.” I rubbed my lips together. “I’m bracing myself. Continuously waiting for him to disappoint me. And before you say anything, understand that I’m trying to mentally work through this.”
“Okay, here’s what I’m going to say,” Frankie said, pointing her fork at me. “Fuck all that. Don’t let that good man go, you crazy heffa.”
I rolled my eyes, my nostrils flaring. “You would say that, wouldn’t you?”
“And I wouldn’t be lying.”
I turned to Journey, who had been unusually quiet during this exchange. “Oh, please, don’t get silent on me now.”
“Do you really want to hear what I have to say? Because you know I’m coming with some hardcore truth.”
“I’m listening. Let’s hear it. I could use stone-cold truth.”
Journey set down her sweet tea and looked me directly in the eyes. “For you to move past your fears, you must continue the relationship knowing there’s an equal chance that Christian could disappoint you. It could be as big as your last disappointment or worse.” My gut tightened, and my throat clogged. “But also, he could be nothing like your last disappointment and everything you need and more. The question is, are you willing to take the risk with him? If not, you should set him free and let someone who can love him properly do it.”
“Damn, Journey,” Frankie said. “Tell her how you really feel.”
“She asked for the truth,” Journey replied. “I love you, Naomi, but you’re sabotaging something beautiful because you’re afraid it might hurt someday. Every relationship comes with risk. The question is whether Christian is worth the risk to you.”
I sat back in the booth, processing what she said. “He’s worth everything.”
“Then act like it,” Frankie said. “Stop waiting for him to disappoint you and start appreciating what you have right now.”
“You’re right. Both of you. I’ve been so focused on protecting myself from imaginary future pain that I’ve been missing out on present happiness.”
“So what are you going to do about it?” Journey asked.
I changed the subject as the unease of their raw truth settled inside me.
“Frankie, that nurse you were ogling a few months back, I know him.”
Frankie’s eyes widened. “What do you mean you know him?”
“Turns out, he’s not a nurse at all, but a neurosurgeon who works at Barnes-Jewish. He’s also Christian’s brother. I met him at their Sunday dinner. He recognized me but couldn’t remember where he’d seen me, and I was shocked to find out. The brother is fine. Even more in regular clothes.”
“Well, bitch, hook a sista up then!” Frankie shouted, and I laughed while Journey smirked and shook her head.
I grabbed my phone and tapped through it. “There, I’ve just airdropped you his number. He’s waiting for you to reach out. I think he wants to double date. But don’t tell him I said that. He wanted to ask you properly first.”
She gasped. “Oh my God! My girl!” She lifted her hand, and we high-fived, and I was happy to successfully pivot our topic.
Christian
“Seven ball, corner pocket,” Elijah said, chalking his cue.
“Show off,” Xander muttered from where he was leaning against the wall, nursing his third glass of Brandy.
In my penthouse, I watched Elijah sink his shot with perfect form, then moved to the bar cart to refill our glasses. The ritual was comforting. Sunday afternoons with my brothers, with no agenda beyond spending time together.
“So,” Elijah said, moving around the table to line up his next shot, “how was your mysterious weekend getaway? You’ve been grinning like an idiot since we got here.”
“Sicily,” I said, pouring Brandy into three crystal tumblers. “Naomi surprised me with a trip to Sicily.”
