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Beyonce Knowles
We both got into the car, the silence immediate and tense. Nicki climbed in first, her whole body angled away from me, staring out the window. I followed, feeling like an intruder, and as soon as Julius closed the door, the weight of it all sank in.
The car started moving, and I could feel every bit of distance between us growing thicker by the second.
Then I heard it-a soft, hitched breath, followed by a faint sniffle. I looked over, and my chest twisted. Nicki was holding a crumpled tissue, dabbing at her eyes, trying to keep it together.
"Nicki..." I said softly, reaching over to touch her hand, desperate to bridge the gap. "Please, let me explain."
She pulled her hand away sharply, her body tense."Explain what, Beyoncé?" she asked, her voice cracking. "You're fucking married."
I swallowed hard, scrambling for the right words. "Just... let me explain. Yes, we're married, but-"
"Beyoncé, don't," she cut me off, her voice sharp and bitter. "You don't have to explain a damn thing to me forreal"
"No, I do," I insisted, my voice soft, pleading. "Because you're sitting here crying, Nicki."
"We're not together, Beyoncé. We just fucked, right? That's all this was, so I don't know why I'm even surprised." She laughed again, bitterly, wiping at her eyes. "Guess it was too fucking good to be true."
Her laugh cut through me, hollow and full of bitterness. It hurt to see her like this, to know I was the reason for the tears she was trying so hard to hold back.
"Nicki..." I tried again.
She shook her head, looking back out the window, her shoulders slumping. "Let it go, Beyoncé. Whatever I thought this was, is over"
»»----- ♔ -----««
Nicki sat on the edge of the bed, slipping off her heels and tossing them aside before reaching back to unzip her dress. She let it slide off, reaching for her comfortable clothes, slipping them on without so much as a glance in my direction.
I tried to ignore the tightness in my chest as I watched her, my mind racing as I pulled out my phone, dialing to get the jet ready.
I spoke briefly with the coordinator, making arrangements. After a few minutes, I hung up and looked over at her, hoping to bridge the distance between us somehow.
"They'll be ready in an hour."
She nodded, staying quiet, not even looking my way.
I took a deep breath, my voice barely holding steady as I tried to get the words out. "Nicki... Sade and I met in South Africa. Our families used to take trips there all the time. We grew up close. And... Sade had dreams of coming to America, of being a model. We were young, we were friends, and we decided to get married so she could get her visa and come here."
