[For However Long || Book 4]

13°

«" know I want you on the side of me..."

Los Angeles, CA;

Sierra walked into the downtown office to see Paris sitting down at her desk, headphones in, working. There was a large gift at Sierra's desk, with a card on top.

"What's this?" She said quietly to herself. She picked up the card and opened it.

Hoorah! Congratulations! May your married life be filled with fun, love, joy and laughter!, It read.

"To Mr & Mrs. Micah Turner. Love, Paris." Sierra read out loud.

She sat the card aside and unwrapped the gift, revealing two shoe boxes. One Jordans, the other Louboutins. At the bottom were two tickets to a resort in Dubai.

"Uh, they have a big festival there. Me and Bryson got those tickets a while back. I thought maybe y'all would like it. And those Jordans aren't out yet, I know Micah likes them." Paris said as she took her headphones out and sat her papers down.

"Paris, you didn't have t—"

"I wanted to. You work hard and you deserve it. Congratulations, Si." Paris smiled.

"When I first introduced you to Micah, he seemed so mesmerized by you. The way he looked at you... He never looked at me like that." She laughed.

"Si, what are you talking about?"

"He told me that y'all bonded so well because you had a lot in common. But, I just couldn't believe that. We moved in together, moved out here together, I had the boys, but I still felt like he wanted you... When Bryson said y'all hooked up, it made sense to me. All my suspicions seemed right."

Paris sighed deeply, "Sierra, I've never slept with your husband. Bryson is an insecure jerk and has no idea what he is talking about. Micah and I are and have alway been just friends."

Sierra's eyes were glossy at this point as she sat down next to Paris and grabbed her hand, "Never? Not even just a kiss or anything? I won't be mad, Paris. I just need to know..."

Paris had a choice. She could run the risk of potentially losing two friends and harming a marriage, or she could wash her hands of the past and move on, without hurting Sierra.

"I promise, nothing has ever happened between me and Micah."

She nodded and dried her eyes, "Well thank you so much for the wedding gift. You really didn't have to do that."

"It was no problem."

"And about not inviting you to—" she started but Paris interrupted her.

"Don't even worry about it. It's in the past. Let's just move on, ok?"

"Ok."

>>>>>

"DJ, I'm not even up for this challenge. Maybe it's a sign, we need to just go on and get divorced."

"Bryson, who are you going to be with after her? Reign, Mya?"

"Hell no. I don't want either one of them." Bryson replied, sat back in his office chair.

"Who do you want?" DJ asked.

"I want Paris." Bryson groaned loudly.

"Let me get this straight, Bryson. You're divorcing the woman you want to be with... And having sex with the women you don't?"

Bryson started at him blankly.

"I don't want a divorce. I was just— I was so mad!" He gritted his teeth.

"You still seem mad. Y'all should sit down, and for the first time since y'all filed for divorce, talk."

Bryson sighed deeply and rubbed his hand down his face.

"And you better hurry up, before she surf off into the sunset with that Lilo and Stitch ass nigga." DJ rose from his seat.

"Get the fuck out." Bryson pointed to the door, making DJ laugh.

After DJ left, Bryson decided to make some music in his in-home studio. The kids were out with their nanny, trying to get some last minute summer activities in.

While he was working, he got a call from Paris. She was hysterically crying and she couldn't even made out what she was saying.

"Woah, woah. You have to calm down, baby girl. I cant understand you." He said, placing the studio headphones on the mic.

"R-Roxy got h-hit by— by a car, Bryson. She's gone." She cried, sniffling and tried to control her breathing.

"What?" Bryson asked, "When did she get hit?"

"Not too long ago. The dog-sitter was walking her and she got off the leash and ran into the road." She explained, her voice cracking as she cried.

"Damn..." Bryson exhaled, wiping his hand over his face, "I'm really sorry, Paris."

"Can you tell the kids for me?"

"They're not here right now, but I'll tell them. You want me to come over?" He asked.

"Please..." She whispered, breaking down into loud sobs.

"Ok, I'll be right there. Stop crying, I'm on my way." He assured her, looking for his car keys.

>>>>>
Please go read A Fallen Star, a new Bryson Tiller story that's different from any one you've ever read. It's on YannaWrites

Thanks.