Page 26 of Imperfection is Beauty

Two, he deserved his privacy.

Three, I really wanted to see if he still wore the same cologne. But after surgery, I doubted I would smell it.

Taking in a deep breath, I stepped to his door. Giddy with excitement at seeing him again, and then nervous, hoping I didn’t do something and then look like a bumbling idiot.

After another deep breath, I knocked on the door and waited.

When I heard that deep, all too familiar rasp, say, “Enter.”

I had to close my eyes.

Yeah, he still had it with his voice.

Que the wetness between my legs. Fuck. Me.

Pasting a blinding smile on my face, I opened the door.

All the while chanting.

Married. Married. Married. Fucking married.

Chapter 7

Marcus

Lying there in the hospital, I pulled my phone from the tray it was on and called my lawyer. He answered on the fourth ring.

The slightly older man greeted, “Mr. DuPointe, how are you?”

I sighed, “Not good. Got hit yesterday. Didn’t get checked out like I should have. A piece of rib broke off and nicked my lung. Just got out of surgery for it.”

I heard him suck in a breath, “Dang. I’m sorry to hear that; I hope you are all right now.”

I nodded, “The reason for my call is that Tonya violated the contract last night.”

He sighed, “Yes, I was planning to call you later today after I had the paperwork done. Shall I bring it to the hospital this afternoon?”

I closed my eyes. Thank fuck this farce of a marriage is almost over, “Yeah, that would be great. Will you need her signature as well?”

I could almost see him shaking his head because of his tone, “No. She signed a no-contest agreement. Once I have your signature, I will take it before the judge, and in thirty days you will be legally divorced.”

After we hung up, I put the phone back on the table, closed my eyes, and then crossed my arms over my chest as best I could and tried to catch a nap.

However, even though I wanted to be cussing my big brother’s ass out for his need to fill the silence with mundane topics, I would soon realize I was grateful for it.

Beyond grateful.

Just as I felt that all too familiar little pull into sleep, I heard his rumbling voice ask, “So, who do you think is going to the Super Bowl this year?”

I didn’t even bother opening my eyes when I answered him, “Dude, the season hasn’t even really started. You’re seriously asking me that shit?”

I knew he nodded, just knew it. “Bro, you always know who’s going to win. Not sure how you do it, but you just do.”

I sighed, “Ugh, fine. We are going and we are facing off against the Manta Rays.”

I knew he was going to ask why, any other time, my brother preferred solitude, the quieter, the better, except for when it was just the two of us.

Then the big bastard, yes, I was just as big as he was, but he is my big brother, so it was okay. “Why that team?”

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