Page 82 of The Secret to a Southern Wedding
She had wanted to stay. Wanted the life she could see herself having in Peachtree Cove with her mom, Halle and Tracey, and Cyril. Saw a future that wasn’t guarded and afraid of love. But if her mom didn’t want to stay in Peachtree Cove there was no way Imani could come back when her mom moved somewhere else alone.
She stood before she got swept up in the emotion in Cyril’s eyes and forgot that this was for the best. “I left my mom the last time she was hurt. I can’t do it again.”
He got up and came closer. “You don’t have to leave. Neither of you do.”
Imani jerked on the blanket until he stumbled back. If he touched her, pulled her into his arms, she might give in and accept his touch. “I can’t stay here if she’s not here. And I can’t ask her to stick around and see your dad. Not after everything that happened. It’s why we can’t be together. It won’t work.” She shook out the blanket and started folding it.
Cyril came forward. He leaned down to try and meet her eyes. “For the first time I’ve wanted someone with every part of me. I know you feel the same.”
She shook her head. She would get over this. It was just a quick fling. That was all. Getting over Cyril might take a little longer, but she would do it. He took her hands in his, stopping her from folding the blanket, and pulled her close. Imani wavered and took a half step forward. The bulk of the blanket kept their bodies from touching.
“Imani, please.”
“My feelings for my mom matter more,” she said forcefully. “I can’t be with you. We can’t do this.”
“What am I supposed to do with the feelings I have for you? How am I supposed to stop loving you?”
The strain in his voice pulled at her heart until she thought it would snap. She stepped back. “You’ll stop because you have to. I won’t be here, so that will make it easier.”
“Imani.”
He reached for her, but she turned and walked away. He could catch her if he tried. Before she knew it she was on the bike. She held her breath and waited and listened, both in anticipation and fear that he would follow. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if he held her, kissed her. But he didn’t follow. She pedaled down the road and when she heard his truck coming behind her a few minutes later, she took the next turn in the opposite direction to avoid having to watch him drive away.
thirty-two
Cyril remained cordial and kept the conversation going with the patrons at the bar even though every time the door opened his body stiffened, and his gut clenched. He didn’t know if his aunt planned to come to the bar, drop her bomb and ruin their life, but he expected it with every ring of the bell at the bar’s entrance. If he knew where she was staying, he’d consider approaching her first. Even though she hated his dad, she wouldn’t turn Cyril away. The problem was if he did confront her, what could he say that he hadn’t already said before.
On top of the anxiety of waiting was the frustration and pain clawing at his chest every time he thought about the look in Imani’s eyes when she said they couldn’t be together. He got it. Everything about their situation said they just wouldn’t work. He respected her and was grateful she’d even given him the time to explain everything. She didn’t have to do that. She didn’t owe him or his dad anything. But that didn’t stop him from wishing he could still hold on to her. For years after his mom passed, he’d bottled up his feelings. He’d lived to help his dad recover, rebuild their life in Peachtree Cove, put all thoughts of what he wanted outside of the bar aside. Now, he’d finally, finally, felt something that wasn’t related to being strong and stable for his dad and he’d lost it. He’d finally gotten a taste of the happiness he hadn’t expected to find only to have it snatched away before he’d gotten the chance to savor it.
“Cyril, you good?” Joshua asked for the fortieth time in the last hour.
Cyril chuckled, not at all frustrated by his friend constantly checking on him. That was the thing about best friends. No matter how many times he said he was good, Joshua could always tell when something was up.
“I’ll be fine,” he said nodding at his friend.
Joshua narrowed his eyes. “You’re finally going to admit that something is wrong? You gonna tell me what happened?”
“Only something I knew would eventually catch up to me finally did.”
Joshua frowned then his face cleared as realization dawned in his eyes. He leaned in close so the patrons around the bar couldn’t overhear. “You told her everything?”
Cyril shook his head. “I didn’t get the chance to. Someone else said it before I could.”
“How?”
The chime at the door rang. Cyril’s body tightened. He looked toward the door hoping to see another regular and relax as he had so many other times. His gaze met his cousin’s, and the air in his lungs froze. He glanced behind Daryl, but his aunt Gayle didn’t follow. He only relaxed a little. Daryl had supported him and his dad, but he’d also come down here with his mom and knew the reason for her visit. He couldn’t trust this wasn’t the start of something bad happening.
Daryl didn’t come to the bar. He lifted his chin in greeting before crossing the room and taking a seat at one of the tables in the back corner. Cyril looked at Joshua. “Can you watch the bar for a second? There’s something I need to handle.”
Joshua’s eyes had followed Cyril’s as he’d watched Daryl cross the room. “You good?” His friend’s tone asked the rest of the question. Do I need to get ready to have your back?
Cyril slapped his friend on the shoulder. “I’m good. That’s my cousin.”
Joshua’s eyes widened. “Ooooh. Go ahead. I got the bar.”
“Thanks.”
Cyril poured two drafts of the beer he’d brewed and headed over to his cousin. He set one beer in front of Daryl before sitting in the chair across from him. He cupped his hands around his own glass and waited. Daryl had come to see him, so he’d let his cousin direct this conversation.