Cheater

Niggas like you (that make it hard to love)

"So it's supposedly pleurisy?" Jeanie frowned worriedly at her daughter, trying and failing to make herself comfortable in the hard hospital chair.

"Supposedly. It's Michael fucking Jackson's'what it is.." Jill fumed in a corner, arms folded.

"See? What happens when he's in your life, B-B?" Evelyn tutted, as Bernadine refrained from rolling her eyes.

Her controlling sisters were not telling her anything new.

"Be quiet, both of y'all. This ain't your marriage. Remember that.." Dina huffed, stroking Bernadine's forehead affectionately.

"Dina's right. This isn't your fight.." Jeanie tutted.
"But ma! You see what Michael's done? After Jerome, this shit wasn't supposed to happen!" There was silence after Jill spoke.

Nobody spoke of Jerome.

Several glares were exchanged between the sisters, and Bernadine turned toward the window in anger.

She could not take another person telling her what to do.

"Taj, and TJ are coming down to see you, girl.." Dina smiled brightly, hoping to cheer bernadine up, but the atmosphere remained sour.

Bernie shrugged, still facing the window.

"Am I interrupting?" There was a knock, simultaneous with the opening of the door.

Bernadine turned her head, and for once, for ONCE, in a long time, a genuine smile came to her face.

"Damien?" She giggled nervously, gathering the sheets of the bedding around her.

She felt a pressing urge to look presentable in his presence.
Damien brushed his fingers through his shoulder length oak hair, and dithered nervously in the doorway.

The three sisters, and mother- stared impatiently, waiting for there to be movement.
And indication of the relationship the two had.

His eyes were blue, icy in vividness, but warm in feeling. His beautiful pink lips, small, but plump enough to kiss, spread to his ears in a tummy flipping smile.

His grey suit hugged him well, his white collar sharply complimenting his sharp jawline.

He pushed his hands in his pockets.
The suit was expensive, Bernadine could hear it.

She tucked her straightened hair behind her ears, and swallowed, still beaming at the man in the doorway.

"I heard you passed out.." He chuckled confidently.

He was the opposite of Michael.
He was confident, he wasn't shy, and he was sexily French..

His accent made Evelyn's stomach bubble, and Jill could almost feel a school girl giggle coming along, although Dina wasn't so impressed.

He also wore glasses, black, slim rectangle ones, that he'd push up his nose every so often.

"Sorta, uh-huh.." Bernadine shrugged, as he strolled his long legs into the room, and gently closed the door.

"You.. Had me.. Worried, you know?" He laughed, nodding at the other women in the room, and then tilting his head.

"I did?"
"Yes. How did it happen, Bernadine..?"

Oh. Oh shit!
That fucking accent!

Bernie loved the way he'd always say her full name. Even when the people around her abbreviated her name constantly..

Damien took Bernadine's hand in his, and rubbed his thumb along her knuckles.

The real concern, real honest concern in his eyes was a wonderful change.