Impossibly True (Impossibly Duology) (16 page)

CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE

Branden

  
I woke up a little before noon
on Thursday. After showering and getting
dressed, I went downstairs to fix myself something to eat. Ashton was in the
kitchen, leaning against the island as he munched on Mom’s diet chocolate
cookies.

  
“Hey, bro,” he greeted.
“Happy New Year.
Had fun last
night?”

  
“Back at ya.”
I opened the refrigerator to get milk,
adding as I closed the door, “Yeah, I had a lot of fun. What about you? Last
night was the first time you spent New Year’s Eve at home since you were a
kid.”

  
He shrugged and moved off the island. “I didn’t feel like going out.
Watched TV with Mom instead.”

  
Surprised, I stopped pouring the milk on the cornflakes and eyed him with a
quizzical look. “You watched TV with Mom?”

  
“Yep,” he confirmed. “She looked like she needed some company, so I figured why
not be a good son for once since I’m leaving soon.”

  
“You are a good son.”

  
He snorted. “You think so?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Well,” he stuck his hands inside his pockets and headed out of the kitchen.
“Let me know how you feel in a few days.”

  
As if on cue, Mom waltzed into the kitchen, passing Ashton in the doorway. She
looked as tired as I felt. “If you both had woken up earlier I would’ve made
breakfast for you, but now it’s almost lunch time and I’m meeting Rosemarie in
a bit.”

  
“What? Look who’s talking, you’re just getting up too,” Ashton teased.

  
She smiled, walked over to the coffee pot and poured some into a mug. She eyed
me over the cup as she drank. “How was your night of celebrating?” she asked.

  
I placed the bowl in the sink and leaned against the counter. “It was great. I
had a lot of fun with Moya and our friends.”

  
“You really love this girl, huh?”

  
“Mom, I’m not in the mood—”

  
“No, no,” she placed the mug on top of the counter. “I’m not going to say
anything negative.”

  
“Why are you still caught up on Samantha, anyway?” asked Ashton, stepping back
into the kitchen. He leaned over the island with his hands folded. “I thought
you were done with her after…” he gazed at me, holding his thought. “Well, you
know.”

  
“Samantha’s a nice girl, and so is Moya.” Mom stared me straight in the eye. “I
feel like what you had with Samantha
was
so much
stronger. You both seemed so…in love.”

  
“I’m in love with Moya,” I said firmly.

  
Ashton coughed. “Wow, little bro, you’re so sprung.”

  
“Shut up.”

  
“Hey, don’t get mad,” he laughed, straightening with his hands held up in
defense. “I think it’s cool how you’re so honest about your feelings. You’ve
always been like that.”

  
“Yeah, well, unlike some people, I keep it straight.”

  
The kitchen fell silent. Mom began sipping on her coffee again, considering my
words.

  
“I’m happy you can be so open,” she finally said. “And it is time for me to get
this fantasy of you and Samantha getting back together out of my head. It’s just
that she really stole my heart that day you brought her home. We grew so close,
Sam and I…” she shook her head then put the mug down.
“Never
mind.
Forget about my silly interventions and be happy with Moya. Like I
said, she’s a good girl, a smart one at that. I can see why you love her so
much.”

  
“Is that so?” I folded my arms. “In that case, there’s something I want to tell
you both.”

  
Ashton narrowed his eyes. Mom cocked her head to the side. “What is it?” she
asked, anxious.

  
I glanced back and forth between them, inhaled a deep breath,
then
said, “I want to marry Moya.”

  
“Whoa!” Ashton blurted in astonishment. “Are you serious, bro?” he confirmed.

  
Mom widened her eyes. Her mouth twitched. “You can’t be serious,” she released
a sarcastic, breathy laugh. “You’ve been seeing each other for barely over four
months. How can you make a decision like that in such a short time?”

  
“I know it seems fast, but I really want to.”

  
“Listen, little bro,” he stepped forward and squeezed my shoulder. “I’m usually
with you on a lot of things, but I have to agree with Mom on this one, it’s way
too soon.”

  
“Thank you, Ash,” she crossed her arms abruptly at her waist. “You can’t marry
her. I won’t let you.”

  
I brushed his hand off my shoulder. “It’s not up to any of you.”

  
“I’m your mother, and I say you can’t marry. I won’t have it,” she countered.

  
“News flash,
Mother
, I’m old enough to do whatever I want to do.” Why
couldn’t they support me like Dad?

  
Glancing over at Ashton, I fumed, “You’re such a hypocrite. I had your back
about your decision to move overseas from the moment you told me.”

  
“Oh come on, Bran, it’s not the same thing—”

  
“Like hell it isn’t.”

  
“Stop it!” mom yelled. She inched closer. “Branden, listen to me, it all looks
beautiful now, this desire you feel for each other. But you’re young, give
yourself some time.”

  
“I don’t need time. I love Moya, and I’m going to marry her.”

  
“Does
she
know you want to marry her?” Ashton piped in, a stern
expression on his face. “Cause little bro, this could scare the hell out of
her.”

  
Moya knew how I felt, but like Mom, she wanted us to take it slow. Only, I
wanted to marry her this summer. Was that too crazy?

  
Getting frustrated, I scoffed and walked out of the kitchen, heading out the
front door.

  
My mind was already made up. I’d even gone ahead and bought the ring over
Christmas. This weekend, I was going to propose to her. No one was going to get
in the way.

  
No one.

  
“Damn, man, your feelings for this girl sounds intense.”

  
Warren and I chilled out in his den, drinking beers and playing pool, while his
parents entertained friends upstairs. It sounded like a fiesta with loud
Merengue music, jovial laughter, and spicy, delicious food filling the air.

  
I drank some beer and waited for him to take his shot. “What can I say? I love
her.”

  
“You sure you ready for that though?” he asked after blowing his play. I was
beating Warren big time at this game. “I mean, marriage is serious. I like
Vanessa a lot, and I want our relationship to last and always be this good, but
I don’t think about marriage with her. I only enjoy what we have now.”

  
Reading the game, I readied the stick on the table and said while aligning the
shot, “I knew from the moment I laid eyes on Moya that she was going to be the
one. The feeling comes so easy. It’s like I’m living only when I’m with her.”

  
I glanced over at him once I finished. He had a modest smile on his face as he
stared at the hardwood.

  
“You sound like my dad. He gets mushy like that when he talks about my mother.”

  
Sighing, I walked over to the brown leather couch, setting the beer on the
coffee table as I sat down. Warren came over and sat down on the chair in front
of me.

  
“Did you already bring it up with her?” he asked.

  
I nodded. “Yeah, but that was back when I was sick in the hospital. She told me
to take it slow.” I combed my hand through my hair. “I don’t think she took me
seriously.”

  
“I see. Well hey, if you want to do that man, I say go for it. Life is short.
My parents got married at sixteen back in the Dominican Republic. Life was
different for them, but they loved each other and knew they wanted to be
together, no matter if the odds were against them.”

  
“Thanks, man.” I slapped his hand and knocked beer bottles.

  
Warren made a lot of sense. Life was short, and I didn’t believe in putting
things off simply to please anyone, or wait for a “better” time. The time was
always right when you go for it.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR

Moya

  
On Friday afternoon
, I packed a few things into my travel bag, and then
brought it out to the living room. Momma was working the afternoon shift at the
supermarket today, and Vanessa was out with Warren—neither of them
were
here to lecture me about protection and the likes. It
was good enough that Momma didn’t fuss about me going off for the weekend with
a guy.

  
My heart beat rapidly, waiting for Branden. I played with the bracelet he gave
me, thinking how this weekend was going to change our relationship so much.
It’d certainly make it deeper, stronger. Yet, being so alone with him for three
days made me nervous.

  
I heard his car pull up to my gate and my breathing intensified. Slowly, I rose
from the sofa, clutching my bag under my arm, trying to steady my nerves.

  
When Branden knocked on the door, I took a deep breath and walked over to
answer it, feigning a smile as I did.

  
“Ready to go?” he asked, reaching for my bag.

  
I handed it to him and raised my index finger.
“Just a sec.”
Then I went down the hallway to my bedroom.

  
Closing the door, I leaned my back against it, inhaling and exhaling smoothly.
There was a rap outside, startling me. Slowly, I opened the door halfway;
Branden’s worried face met mine.

  
“Are you all right?” he asked.

  
I bobbed my head, “Mmm-hmm,” and opened the door wider.

  
“Sure?” he pressed, reaching for my hand.

  
“I’m okay. You go ahead. I have to lock up.”

  
Appearing satisfied, he walked down the hallway and out the front door, heading
for his car.

  
“Relax,” I whispered to myself. “It’s only Branden.”

  
Putting the uneasiness aside, I hastened out the door, locked it, and then
hurried down the porch steps. I noticed Branden watching me as I drew closer to
the car. He smiled sweetly when he lowered his eyes to the bracelet on my
wrist.

  
“Let’s go,” I said cheerfully, climbing inside the car and buckling my
seatbelt.

  
“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

  
Branden drove for nearly thirty minutes before he pulled off the highway,
turning down a road that led to Meredith Creek. I perked up, realizing where we
were.

  
Chesapeake Bay was out in the distance. I marveled at the bridge until it was
no longer in sight. This place was nice during warmer weather; only the
fortunate stayed here. I had to ask, “We’re spending the weekend in Meredith
Creek?”

  
He flashed a wink and replied, “Yep. My family has a cabin out here. Remember I
told you about the cabin in the woods? No one can hear you…” he teased.

  
I released a short laugh, stopping as the butterflies started to swarm within.

  
 Branden reached his hand over for a beat to stroke my cheek, and then he
placed it back on the wheel. I wondered if he could tell how nervous I was,
rubbing my sweaty palms on my jeans every second. Was he nervous too?

  
For the rest of the drive, he watched me from the corner of his eye, so perhaps
he knew after all.

  
When he turned left down a paved road that appeared private and secluded, I
presumed the cabin was close now. Sure enough, he drove for another minute
before the gorgeous log cabin came into view. I was in awe. It stretched
alongside the creek, looking out at nature itself.

  
Pulling beneath the cabin into the open parking space and turning off the car,
Branden slipped out, and I took my time getting out as well, captivated by the
cozy atmosphere.

  
He walked around the car, my bag in his grasp as he urged me inside. “Let’s
go.”

  
I dallied behind as we climbed the wooden stairs up to the entrance. Unlocking
the door, Branden pushed it open then towed me inside.

  
“What do you think?” he asked.

  
I stood beside him, amazed. The interior was exquisite; the antique furniture
and overall feel blew my mind. Mrs. McCarthy had great taste if she had
anything to do with it.

  
“It’s so…” I shook my head as I managed to get the word out. “Beautiful.”

  
Branden grinned. “Yeah, it’s all right. Come out here.”

  
He held my hand as we walked across the living room and out to the screened
porch. I gasped, squeezing his hand. The trees had dried up, yet it was still a
nice view.

  
Moving behind me, Branden wrapped his arms around my waist, whispering at my
neck, “I’m glad you like it.”

  
“Mmm…I do.” I leaned my head back on his chest.
“So
peaceful.”

  
 We remained quiet for a while, taking in our surroundings, until I
started to feel cold.

  
“Let’s go back inside,” I said.

  
He closed the door to the porch just as we did. Branden walked over to some
neatly stacked kindling wood, getting a few to start the fire.

  
“Nice,” I enthused, once he had the fireplace going.

  
Then he took his jacket off and came over to the black leather couch to sit
down beside me.

  
“There’s central heating here, but I like doing things old school.”

  
“I don’t mind.”

  
Getting more comfortable, he put his arm around my shoulder and leaned back on
the couch. I snuggled up to him, trying to relax as well.

  
“I forgot to ask what your New Year resolution was.”

  
“Humph. I didn’t make any.”

  
“How come?” he sounded
surprised.

  
“I guess ’cause I never really follow through with them.”

  
“And here I was thinking what a determined girl you were,” he teased me.

  
I sucked my teeth and nudged his arm. “Whatever. What’s
your
resolution,
anyway?”

  
He didn’t answer, falling quiet all of a sudden. A few seconds passed and still
no response, yet his chest heaved deeply, and his heartbeat picked up pace,
making mine do the same.

  
His hold on my body started to make me shiver inside. I felt shy again. I’d
told him I was ready, yet now I wasn’t even brave enough to look into his
gorgeous blue eyes.

  
Letting out a long breath, I eased up and brushed away the curls from my face.
When I managed to gaze over at Branden, he was already staring at me, an
intense look in his eyes. I didn’t look away, fearing the loss of this
beautiful moment.

  
I trembled as he reached out to stroke my cheek, taking his time to lean
forward and kiss me lightly on the lips.

  
When he pulled away, I wanted to ask for more. Only he beat me to it, asking
instead, “Are you hungry?”

  
“Oh…um,” I mumbled. My body was in heat, and he was talking about food. Not
sexy.

  
“I picked up some stuff at the store.” He got up from the couch suddenly and
his cell phone fell out the pocket of his jacket.

  
“Here,” I bent down to pick it up for him, glimpsing an unread message on the
screen. It was from a Samantha.

  
My smile evaporated as I saw her text message:

Remember
what we were doing 3 years ago today? I’ll never forget. I love you Branden. No
matter how many days or years pass, I’ll always love you.

  
“Moya, what’s the matter?” I heard him ask, his voice sounding far away.

  
Trying to suppress the hurt, I stood up and handed him his cell phone, folding
my arms aggressively after he took it from me.

  
“Who the hell is Samantha?” I snapped, unable to control the anger.

  
He glanced at the screen, appearing pissed when he read her message. Peering up
at me again, he explained, “Moya, this isn’t what you think it is—”

  
“Who is she?” I asked again, leaning on one foot.

  
“Samantha’s my ex-girlfriend.”

  
I pointed at his phone. “Then why is she texting you something like that?”

  
“Because she still has feelings for me.”

  
“Wait,” I held a hand up. “You told me your last relationship ended in high school,
so how come she has your number?”

  
“I don’t know, but I didn’t give it to her if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  
He
was
telling the truth, that much I knew. Still, I couldn’t stop being
mad. Why did that bitch have to text him and ruin the vibe? And in regards to
something like that…something I thought about doing up until a few seconds ago.
Argh!

  
Shaking my head, I spoke in a calmer tone, “I’m gonna lie down.”

  
“No, Moya…wait,” he reached out to stop me. “Don’t be upset. This text means
nothing. I’m over her.”

  
“It’s not that. I know how you feel. It’s just…” I was jealous, a childish
emotion I never thought I’d experience ever in my life. Gosh. What had he done
to me? I’d become the love sick puppy I used to detest.

  
“What is it?” he prompted, caressing my arm.

  
“Nothing.”
I brushed off his hand to continue walking,
entering the bedroom at the end of the passage with “guestroom” written
outside.

  
Slipping away into the room, I closed the door and hid my emotions from
Branden. I needed a moment to myself, a moment to shake off my jealousy.