. . .
Crimson always called me a nerd,but between the two of us, she was the bigger one. She was dead set on visiting every historical spot in the city, so we spent the next two days walking all over the place, mostly uphill, because somehow every landmark she wanted to see was on a hill.
We hit the Prince’s Palace first. She was obsessed with the view from up there and kept pointing things out like we were on a school field trip. I didn’t mind, though. She looked happy, like she was exactly where she wanted to be. Which brought me peace, because I wanted to pick her brain about moving here. After that, we walked through the Exotic Garden, which was more my speed. It was quiet, peaceful, and we could actually enjoy each other. We held hands, and we stopped every few minutes to look at weird plants or take a picture of some cactus with a name I couldn’t pronounce.
After two days of getting her history fix, she went straight into beach mode. Beach day was probably my favorite by far. No walking, no lines or exhibits, just us and the environment. We lie out for hours. Crimson buried her toes in the sand and splashed around in the water every so often.
We took a break from all of the girly shit she wanted to do. I rented a blue Bugatti Chiron. The second we hit the streets, heads turned. That engine wasn’t quiet, and that’s how I liked it. Driving was a sport. And with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on Crim’s thigh, I was in my own Fast and Furious movie. We flew past cafes and tight curves overlooking the sea. People stared with their phones out, probably thinking we were someone important. And we were. I rarely patted myself on the back, but Crimson and I wouldn’t be doing any of this if it hadn’t been for the name I built.
At night,we kept it simple. Dinners on rooftops with candlelight and live music playing somewhere in the background. Other nights, we skipped the whole going-out part and stayed in. We made love on the terrace and wherever else there was space to do so in the suite. Before we knew it, we were approaching our final night. While I could see she was enjoying herself, our conversation disappeared, leaving me to wonder what she was thinking. She started to pull back, and her entire demeanor changed. So when Crimson begged me, I agreed to take her to the party on the Genevieve. It was my last effort at making her happy.
crimson
. . .
TheGenevievewasthe kind of yacht that made you feel poor just standing near it. Not broke, butinsignificant. Everything gleamed from the chrome, the marble, the polished wood. The second I stepped on deck, it felt like I had walked into a luxury fragrance ad. Waiters glided by like ghosts, holding trays of tiny hors d'oeuvres so delicate I felt rude chewing them. Caviar on endive leaves, prosciutto wrapped around figs, oysters so fresh they still tasted like waves.
Jah moved around like he did our first night here. He kissed cheeks, clapped backs, whispered jokes that made already-beautiful women laugh harder than they needed to. And I was right beside him, wishing a bitch would. He introduced me to a whirlwind of people. I smiled, nodded, and talked about Crème De La Crimson
The crowd was smaller than the first crowd the night of the portrait reveal. But there were still a few familiar faces like Lonzo Stratisse. I spent a good portion of my time talking with him about his designs. He promised to get me a slot for fashion week and Paris if I could produce 10 designs to his liking. Ms. Genevieve introduced me to other fashion enthusiasts whoweren’t present the other night. I took important names and phone numbers, because I knew I’d need them later.
While I was in luxurious bliss, the feeling I tried to ignore since that day on the terrace started nagging at me. Then it dawned on me, the reason I felt a splash of envy. While Jah was building this life, I wassuffering. I was back in Mulholland Falls, in a deep depression, worried, waiting for him to return. My life was on hold while his was in go mode. This feeling crept up on me for a brief moment every day since we’d been here. But now seeing him make plans to ‘play golf again’ and accept invitations to car shows had me seething inside.
Something retreated, and I started to pull away. What the hell was wrong with me that I couldn’t be happy for my man and the life he’d built? I was overwhelmed with emotions and hated it, considering it was our last night here. In an attempt to gather myself, I slipped away from the crowd, finding a more intimate spot away from the noise.
I had a good twenty minutes before I assumed Jah noticed I was missing. He found me near the bow and joined me, staring out at the sea. Jahsir wrapped his arms around me from behind.
“This view,” he said softly, “never gets old.”
I didn’t answer right away. Why did he have to say that? I had managed to calm myself down, and here he comes, reminding me that we weren’t experiencing this together for the first time. This was his life, his life without me.
“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” I finally replied. “You built something nice out here.”
“What was that?” He asked, turning me around to face him. “Your tone. Is something on your mind?”
“No. I’m fine.” I added, avoiding his gaze. “Just saying, I’m happy you were able to start over and build a great life.”
“That wasn’t by choice, though, you do understand that, right?”
“Let’s just move on from this, Jahsir. This has been too beautiful a trip to bring up old stuff.”
“You know why I left, Crimson.”
“I do. Doesn’t make it okay, though.”
Jahsir brushed his hands over his face in frustration. “You think I didn’t miss you?”
“You missed me from a yacht in Monaco, Jah.” I laughed dryly. “I missed you from a hole of despair.”
Damn. I instantly regretted what I said. I was trying my best not to go there. Jahsir had explained himself thousands of times. He and I both knew why he did what he did. I told myself I had made peace with his decisions, but the mini tantrum I just threw said otherwise. The silence that followed was sharp, but not sharp enough to cut the tension between us. The waves crashed against the yacht, and instead of being an ungrateful brat, I tried to smooth over the chaos I just caused.
“I’m proud of you, Jah, I really am. I just feel like a stranger in this world of yours.”
“You are my world, Crimson. My heart ain’t beating without yours. What do I have to do for you to forgive me?”
“Nothing. I forgive you, bae. Ignore me. It’s been beautiful here, but I miss Scarlett. I’m just cranky. I’m sorry.” I stood on my toes to kiss Jahsir, and he returned the gesture, but I knew he was affected by this conversation.
I had a lot of emotions wash over me, but two stood out the most. Envy, because of the path both of our lives went after he left, and fear. He had done so well for himself over here that it was truly no reason for him to stay in Mulholland Falls. And maybe, just maybe, soon enough, Scarlett and I wouldn’t be enough to keep him there.
