Find The Beauty Within

Letting Her Go, And Starting Anew (Final Chapter)

Normani's POV

"One should really use a camera as though tomorrow you'd be stricken blind." -Dorothea Lange.

Her. Dinah. Dinah Jane. Dinah Jane The Goddess in a bathing suit. Dinah Jane The Goddess in a bathing suit looking more confident than I had ever seen her before. It was quite the sight to see. For one, I had never seen Dinah in swimwear, as she always insisted on going to the beach in comfortable clothes — at least when she was with me. And on top of that, she embraced her body the way it was — curves, scars, and all. It was beautiful. She was beautiful, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't have trouble taking my eyes off of her. But I felt wrong. How messed up was I to have the girl I loved next to me, but stare at another woman? Be infatuated with another woman? It was wrong, I was wrong, but I couldn't help it. The confidence Dinah radiated consumed me, and I let it.

All day she kept her eyes away from mine, but I couldn't understand why. We had agreed to be friends, and friends were definitely allowed to look at one another — so why hadn't she looked at me? All day, Zendaya was being extra touchy. At first, I was cautious because of Dinah, but then I remembered that she had broken things off. She didn't want me anymore, which meant she felt nothing for me. Which meant she wouldn't care if I was in the arms of another. She wouldn't care that while I was kissing Zendaya, I was thinking of her; what it would be like to kiss her. She wouldn't care that I was smiling all day long because I was happy to be within ten feet of her. She wouldn't care, and she would also never know.

Neither would Zendaya for that matter. The woman I loved would be kept in the dark about the fantasies I had for the woman that left me. She didn't need to know that I wasn't over Dinah, even though I repeatedly said I was. All she needed to know, was that I loved her. That I wanted her. That she was good for me. The best thing for me.

Smooth arms wrapped around my waist, and a face buried itself into my neck. "You look so beautiful," she whispered.

I smiled softly, turning around to look up at Zendaya, so that she didn't have to bend down as much. "You do, too," I replied. I meant it. She was beautiful, flawless, a model. Everything about her screamed sensuality, and there was no doubt that she was a sight to look at.

She grinned widely, her nose crinkling up, hazel eyes soft and smoldering. "I love you," she told me.

My answer was a kiss. I couldn't bear to say those words to her when Dinah was around, in fear that she would hear the pain behind my voice when I declared my love for my girlfriend. So I pressed my lips to Zendaya's, silencing her. Our lips began the dance that had become so familiar to me, and I noticed how soft her lips were, but I couldn't stop my brain from thinking of Dinah.

How would her lips feel? Would she kiss me with the same passion as Zendaya? With as much love as Zendaya? Would she pull back and rest her forehead on my own, feeling our rapid hearts pound together like my girlfriend would?

"I love when you kiss me that way," Zendaya whispered sweetly.

"In what way?"

Her eyes searched mine, and she gave me a soft smile. "Like I'm the only one in the world."

My reply was a small peck on her lips. God, how awful I felt kissing her but thinking of Dinah. I wasn't over the goddess, that much was true, but I felt that with time, I would be. The more time I spent loving Zendaya, the less time I would think of Dinah. It made sense. That was just how people moved on.

It was how I was going to move on.

Weeks and weeks later, Dinah and I were finally able to establish a real friendship. There was no flirting on either part, no subliminal messages, and no hurt feelings — at least on her side. I on the other hand, was slowly getting over it, over her. With each day that passed, Zendaya truly became my everything, along with August. The two of them were the only things I started to see as I pushed Dinah further back in my head. She wasn't mine, and she never was — but Zendaya was mine. She was mine and she wanted me to be hers. She wanted us to be a family, and I knew I wanted the same.