chapter Seven
Exposing Secrets
Toby
A year later…
The weights make a clinking sound, as I place the bar back in the rack. Sweat is dripping everywhere, from the exertion I’m putting my body through. I have a lot on my mind and I thought punishing my body would help me to settle some of this extra energy.
It was actually working, before Kwäzē showed up. I love my friend, but this thing I have for his sister is weighing on me. I was trying to forget it for a while.
Kamara has her first date this weekend. I haven’t figured out how to wrap my head around this. I know she doesn’t get that I’m attracted to her, but I at least thought she was attracted to me. I mean, I thought I had time to figure out what Kwäzē wouldn’t say at the dinner table that night. It seems like forever ago.
It was last year. I know, I know, Kamara is gorgeous and she won’t be single forever. I just haven’t figured out a way to bring up the subject with Kwäzē, without him being suspicious.
That fucker Thornton has had his eye on Kamara for the longest. I never thought she would agree to go out with him. Shit, I don’t even think Kwäzē knows about this.
My first thought was to be a bitch and snitch her out. It would solve one of my problems, but I’d be robbing Kamara of her privacy and her right to live her life. It’s not my style. To me, that would be the equivalent to telling a chick her man is cheating or that he’s no good for her, just so I can move in.
Besides, it’s not like I haven’t been on a date or two in the last year. Nothing that panned out to being anything more than a crap date, but I’ve dated. I just haven’t been able to get into any of the girls I tried to date.
I compare them all to the girl I truly want. None of them come close to measuring up. I’ve just given up on it all.
“I wish life wasn’t so complicated,” Kwäzē huffs, echoing my own thoughts.
“You guys are good together. Why don’t you try to fix it?” I sit up and wipe the sweat from my forehead.
“Things are not that easy,” he replies.
I frown and turn to look Kwäzē in his eyes. He looks away, signaling the fact that his not telling me something. I decide I’ve had enough of the secrets. I push, totally intending to pry, something I usually avoid with my friend.
“Why not? You clearly care about her. What’s the problem?” I sigh.
“Yeah, I care about her. That is why I have ended things now,” Kwäzē frowns and rubs the back of his neck.
“What are you not saying,” I push, my own brows wrinkled in confusion.
Kwäzē meets my eyes and I see when he decides to be straight with me. He moves to sit beside me on, the weight bench. His eyes move to his hands draped between his knees.
“I am already betrothed. For reasons I can’t not say, my marriage has been put on hold, but I am still meant to be married to another. In my country, I would have every right to marry them both,” Kwäzē pauses and shakes his head.
He then continues with a sour look on his face. “But that is not Celeste’s world. I will not ask that of her. To wait for me to marry so she can become my second wife.
“I have been here most of my life. I know the difference between cultures. She would have my balls on a platter for even suggesting such a thing, but none of that changes the fact that I love her.”
I can see the pain written all over my friend’s face. Yet, his words have struck me. The private investigator in me quickly does the math. I may be twenty-one, but I’ve seen and heard too much not to hear what isn’t being said here.
The words flow out of my mouth, before I can stop them. My thoughts are moving too quickly not for me to say them. I think my heart is ripped out as my mind settles on the possibility.
“So, Kamara is in the same type of arrangement. Is she betrothed as well?”
Kwäzē chuckles at me. His eyes meeting mine. There’s a curiosity that takes over his expression. I turn away, before I give away too much. Kwäzē knows me too well. I’ve been astonished that I’ve kept my feelings hidden for this long.
“My sister’s arrangement is not like mine. Her situation is more complicated than mine,” he pauses and sighs. “I will not be able to fulfill my marriage until my family resolves Kamara’s situation. That may never happen, but I have obligations so I cannot disregard them on hope and prayers.”
I can’t breathe. The thought of Kamara on a date was one thing. The thought of her being married to another has me sick.
I sit stuck, unable to speak a word or form a coherent thought. I feel lost and half crazy. When my brain does click into action, I try to think of ways to make this go way.
My family comes to mind. Logan and Brooklyn have so many connections. Or I could go to mom’s family. I could make this go away.
You don’t even know what this is.
I close my eyes as the truth rings in my ears. I don’t know what this is. I hate the unknown.
“What makes Kamara’s situation so different from yours?” I blurt out.
Kwäzē’s face tightens so much I think he’s not going to answer. I can sense something is off. I’m not sure I want the answer now that I have asked.
“This too is complicated. Here, Kamara and I are nobodies. In our country, we are the center of a war. This is all I can tell you for now.”
I have so many questions, but I keep them to myself. When my friend says, he can say no more, I take that to heart. I will pry no more. I appreciate him sharing as much as he has. It means a lot to me.
“Damn, and I thought I had shit on my mind,” I mutter.
“Whatever is on your mind, you will find a way to overcome it. I am sure,” Kwäzē says, with the first smile I’ve seen on his face in weeks.
I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah, for once I’m not so sure of that,” I huff.
“I grantee it. You are the great Toby Black. You always find a way,” Kwäzē pats my back, as if to reassure me.
If only he knew what he was reassuring me of. Wyatt was right. I should just walk now.