Kam caught my eye and grinned, not missing a beat. "I got your baggage, bro!"
Amina’s head snapped toward him, her expression shifting into something hurt and pitiful. "I’m no one’s baggage, Kam," she muttered, her voice tight.
Kam looked down at her, his smirk softening just a fraction. "I’m just talking shit. Chill."
I stood there for a second, taking in the visual. Amina looked small in his arms, and for the first time, she wasn't looking at me for a reaction. I cleared my throat and looked at Kam. "Thanks, man. I got it from here if—"
"I'm fine, Dex," Amina cut in, her eyes fixed on Kam's chest. "He's already got me."
I just nodded, feeling the weird energy in the air. "Aight. Thanks, Kam."
I turned back and headed over to Nique, who had been watching the whole exchange with an arched eyebrow. As soon as I reached her, she leaned in. "You look a little jealous," she teased, her eyes searching mine.
I didn't hesitate. I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her flush against my side so she could feel exactly where I stood. "Never that," I rasped, leaning down to drop a firm kiss on her lips. "I got the one I want. Trust me."
"Ahem."
The sound of someone clearing their throat made us both jump. My mother, Lisa, was standing there with her arms crossed, her eyes hard as she looked between us.
"Can I speak to the two of you?" she asked. It wasn't really a question.
Nique and I exchanged a nervous look before following her down the beach, away from the music and the clinking of glasses, to a quiet stretch of sand where the waves were the only audience.
Ma stood there for a moment, just shaking her head. "I don’t know what’s going on with you young people today, but it’s foolish," she began, her voice full of that maternal disappointment that always made me feel like I was ten years old again. "Your cousin is all over your baby mama, and you’re all over Dominique. I’m just so confused."
"Mama, you’ve known for years I’ve wanted Nique," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "This shouldn't be a surprise."
"Yes, but you two stay so hot and cold," she snapped, pointing a finger between us. "You’re both getting too old to play these games. Either be together or leave each other alone. People like Amina, and whoever Nique’s girlfriend is, shouldn’t have to suffer because y'all can’t make up your minds."
She turned her gaze toward Nique, her eyes narrowing. "And speaking of that, Dominique... you just told your mother you were a lesbian. I see a lot has changed in two days."
The silence that followed was heavy. I felt Nique go still beside me and I already knew this was about to go left.
"Mrs. Nash, let’s be honest, you’ve never liked me," Nique said, her voice gaining a steady, sharp edge. "I could have blurted out I was a virgin yesterday and you still wouldn’t be fond of me. I wasn’t dealt the best hand. I didn’t have a daddy that owned a business and money long enough to put me in private school. I didn’t even have a mother. I had a grandmother who did her best."
I reached out to touch Nique’s arm, but she didn't move. She was locked in.
"I graduated at the top of my class," she said, her eyes fixed on my mother's. "I was awarded three full ride scholarships and chose Howard University. I dated the wrong guy as most young girls do when they first start dating, and I got shot. I was never supposed to walk again, but I did. I went to community college, got a certificate in medical billing and coding, and I worked for years while building my side hustle for Botanique."
Ma shifted her weight, her expression softening from judgment into something more complex—maybe regret.
"I got my heart broken for the second time by your son," Nique’s voice hitched, just for a second. "And I met a girl that helped me heal a little and gave me the opportunity to live my dream and open Botanique. All that being said, I never stopped loving your son. I loved him from the beginning and probably would have told him that a lot sooner if every time you saw me you didn’t always have your nose turned up. You were part of the reason I never felt good enough for him."
I felt a sharp sting in my chest. I knew my mother was protective, and I knew she could be bougie when she wanted to be, but I didn't realize how deep those wounds went for Nique. I’d spent years wondering why she kept me at arm's length, and part of the answer had been the woman who birthed me.
"Nique..." I started, but she finally looked at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
My mother let out a long, slow breath. She looked down at the sand, then back up at Nique. The hardness in her eyes had dissolved.
"Dominique," Ma said, her voice much quieter now. "I... I didn't realize I made you feel that way. I've always been hard on the women around my son because I know his heart, and I know how easily it can be bruised, but I never intended to make you feel like you weren't enough. You've always been more than enough."
Nique didn't say anything. She didn’t flinch. She just stood there and held Ma’s gaze like she had been waiting years to hear every word of it.
"I was wrong," Ma admitted, the words sounding like they cost her something. "For the judgment. For the comments. If Dexter has wanted you all these years, then that should have been enough for me. I’m sorry."
Ma looked at me, then back at Nique, before turning to walk back toward the lights of the rehearsal dinner. We stood there alone in the dark, the salt air thick between us.
I reached out, pulling Nique into my chest, wrapping both arms around her like I could shield her from all the years of feeling less than. She let out one long, shaky breath and leaned into me.