“Girl, y’all are so toxic,” Paris muttered.
“What’s toxic about coparenting with my baby daddy?” Amina frowned.
“If you like it I love it,” Paris said flatly. “Call me when you leave that man’s house.”
The line went dead. Amina searched my face for a reaction. I didn’t give her one.I walked back to the couch and sat down with Demi, but my mind was still on that video. That should have been me she was wrapped around. I knew for a fact her little girlfriend wasn’t out here making her feel like that, and the thought of some random man’s hands on her lit something in me that I had no right to feel but couldn’t turn off.
I also knew through the grapevine that Kel was terrified of flying, which meant she wouldn’t be stepping foot on that plane to Mexico. That realization hit me like a green light. I had been thinking about how to fix things between us since Miami, since the moment I watched her face shift when she saw that text on my phone and walked away from me without giving me a chance to explain.
We had been here before. Jamaica. Miami. Every time we ended up in the same place with enough distance from real life something happened between us that neither of us could explain away in the morning. The chemistry wasn’t something either of us manufactured. It was just there, had always been there, and I was done pretending otherwise.
Mexico was going to be different. I wasn’t leaving that resort without making things right.
The only problem sitting between me and that plan was currently burning bacon in my kitchen.
Amina knew exactly what she was doing by inserting herself into this trip. She knew the history between Nique and me. She had known since Paris told her about Jamaica, had watched it eat at Nique from the outside while using Demi as a tether to keep herself close to me. She wasn’t going to Mexico to celebrate London. She was going to run interference and we both knew it.
I watched her float over and set a plate down in front of me with a self satisfied grin, burnt bacon and pale pancakes arranged like she had prepared something worth being proud of. I picked up my fork and said nothing.
I had a daughter with a woman I didn’t want, a best friend I had broken something real with, and four days in a tropical paradise to try to fix what two years of bad decisions had made worse.
The odds weren’t in my favor, but I had never let that stop me before.
Chapter five
The Current
Sunday brunch was a once a month thing for Paris, London, Nel, and me. We had run through all the local spots so lately we had been hosting at home. This month it was my turn. I made a French toast casserole, laid out fresh fruit drizzled with lime and honey, and pineapple mimosas that had everybody’s lips moving before the food was even touched.
We sat on the back patio, plates full, going over the Tulum itinerary.
“Nel, you want to do a sound bath with me?” I asked my twin, who was into healing, yoga, and all that jazz.
“Huh?” He was picking at his nails, his eyes somewhere else entirely.
I already knew something was off. Nel always led the itinerary conversation. He lived for trip planning. The fact that he hadn’t said a word about the excursion schedule told me more than his silence did.
“Sound bath,” I repeated.
“Yeah, whatever you want to do.”
I set my fork down slowly. “Boy, what’s on your mind?”
He glanced at London. She gave him a small nod, the kind that meant they had already talked this through before they got here. The two of them worked together at her bakery Butter Dreams and moved like co-conspirators. Whatever this was, they had rehearsed it.
“Nique,” Nel said, finally looking at me withthat look. The one that meant I wasn’t going to like what came next. “London and I have been talking about the guest list for Mexico.”
I stopped mid chew. “Invitations went out months ago. What’s there to talk about?”
London reached across the table, her usual bubbly energy replaced with something careful and heavy. “There’s an addition… I invited Stella.”
The name landed in my chest before it registered in my ears.
Stella.Nel's and my egg donor. The woman who used Grandma Anne like free daycare our entire childhood. The woman who was supposed to go off to college for four years and come back for us. She never did. She built a whole other life instead and sent money on birthdays like that was the same thing as showing up.
“You did what?” My voice came out low and shaking.
“You know she’s been trying to connect with us for years,” Nel said, steady, even though his jaw was tight. “Tulum is known for healing. I think it’s time.”