I looked at him from behind the Dior sunglasses. His bright smile made flutters swarm my belly. There was no need to fall back. I’d been in love with him since the Diner. Had been every single day in between, and always would be. Even when I was pretending otherwise.
I watched Ducane stand and reach for the hem of his shirt. He pulled it over his head, and I saw it before I could prepare myself.
Across the top of his back, a white ribbon wound through a bank of clouds, “Ribbon in the Skye” lettered beneath it. The distinct white couldn’t be denied. He’d always loved that patch in my hair. This wasn’t an accident.
“When?” I asked. It came out quieter than I meant it to.
“After we split.” He dove into the ocean before I could respond.
I sat on that back deck with my wine in my hand. I had so many thoughts running through my head. So many questions I wanted to ask.
But said absolutely nothing.
He rose out of the water, shaking it off his face, and looked back at me on the deck.
“You coming or what?”
He flicked water toward the boat, and I groaned.
“Why did you get that, Ducane?” The frustration was right there in my voice. I didn’t hide it.
“What kind of question is that, Skye? I got it because I love you. Wanted you on me even when I didn’t want to want you.” He wiped his face. “You getting in or you gonna pout about what I did with my body?”
I set my wine down and jumped in. The water was cold enough to steal my breath for a second, and I needed it. I pushed back up, wiping my face and blinking the water out of my eyes.
“You put me on your body for life.” I looked at the water instead of him. “Never mind.”
“Skye, why is my tattoo bothering you?”
“I’m not bothered, Ducane… I’m just… You got this but still let me go.”
I saw sadness flash across his face, and that wasn’t my intention, but there was a frustration bubbling up that I had pushed down for years.
“You don’t think I know that? I was reminded every day. I smelled your perfume for months after you left. I didn’t even go back to the diner. I was fucked up, Skye.”
I turned to move away, and he caught me, both hands around my waist, pulling me back. My legs locked around him before I thought about it.
“I swear you’ve only gotten more beautiful.”
“Flattery won’t work, Ducane.”
“Aight, but I don’t want to ruin our time together, not about this tattoo. I only got a few days with your fine ass. I only got a few days to win you over.”
I blushed and rolled my eyes; flattery was working. I sighed, realizing where my hands were resting. The ribbon across the top of his back. Our heads had always been in the clouds, that was the problem and the gift.
I went to our last Christmas together.
I had been at the Simmons house since the afternoon. It wasn’t my favorite place to be, but it was where my favorite person wanted me, so I agreed to smile and wave. I was dressed to impress. Ducane had been slowly slipping dresses into my closet that cost too much, thinking I didn’t notice, so I pulled one out.
His mother had cooked everything and set the table with the good dishes. The house was overly decorated. I’d never seen anything like it.
I helped where I could and felt the particular mix of belonging and not belonging that I always felt in that house. Welcomed by some of it.
I was fully aware the house was divided; half of them believed I was there to ruin Ducane’s life, and the other half thought I was sticking around to trap him, as if I wanted to have that big head nigga’s baby instead of seeing the world. If anything, it was him trying to trap me. But I digress.
I slipped away from the living room to find the bathroom and took a wrong turn down the back hallway. His father’s voice stopped me before I could correct myself, and my gut told me the hushed tones were about me.
“That girl is a problem, Dena. You see it. Don’t pretend you don’t.”