The Ex Project by Nia Arthurs

Chapter Thirteen

Yolanda flung Devoninto a dark corner of the garden, making sure there was no one around before she hustled into the shadows with him.

Her dress skated on mud and her heels sank into the soft earth. She cringed to think about what the dew was doing to her gown.

Devon was ruining her outfit.

She would kill him.

“Whoa.” Despite his life being in imminent danger, Devon seemed amused. He made a slow sweep over her body and whistled in appreciation. “I love when you dress up like this. You look expensive, girl.”

“Keep your hands to yourself,” she snapped, seeing the way his arms were gravitating to her.

“Scared you might like it?”

She scoffed. The fact that Devon was handsome could not save him from being an A-grade douchebag. If he just kept his mouth shut, he would be so much hotter. And less frustrating.

Yolanda planted her hands on her hips. “What are you doing here?”

“Why are you still with Marden?” Devon jutted his chin in the general direction of the gallery.

She reached up to massage the ache at her temple. “What I do with Duane is none of your business.”

“You are my business.” He stepped closer. His thick eyebrows pulled together, slashing intensely over black eyes. “Remember what you told me that day? You’d give me a chance.”

“A chance does not mean you own me.”

“It means you can’t be rolling around town with idiots like him.” Devon shot his arm out.

“Who are you to tell me who I will and will not hang out with?”

“Yolanda.”

“Saying you might have a chance does not give you the right to throw your weight around and make demands of me. And it certainly doesn’t give you the right to show up and make an embarrassment of me.”

“Me? Didn’t you see it was Marden who was shoving?”

“I know you, Devon,” she hissed. “You must have said something to get to him.”

“I can’t believe this. You’re taking his side?”

“You’re the one who showed up uninvited.”

“Fine. I did. But you said it yourself, Yollie. You know me. Do you know him? Do you know anything about him? That guy wasn’t even living in Belize until recently. He could have a whole wife in another country and you wouldn’t know.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Think about it,” Devon rasped. “He’s shady. I mean, why would he go after a woman with a kid when he doesn’t have any?”

“Maybe he likes me, Devon. You ever thought of that?”

“Or maybe he wants you for your money.” He slapped a hand into his open palm. “Think about it, Yolanda. Would any guy willingly father a kid he didn’t make?”

Her laughter was bitter. Why did it sound like Devon wouldn’t make that choice even if he was the one who made the kid?

“Wake up, Yolanda. You gotta see that I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying to protect you. You give people the benefit of the doubt too much.”

Which was exactly why she’d gotten into trouble with him, but she wouldn’t point out the obvious.

“I will say this again,” she spoke through gritted teeth. “Slowly. So it can get through your thick skull. What I do and who I hang out with is my business. It has nothing to do with you and I do not need your protection.”

“Are you saying you really like him?”

“Devon.”

He tapped his chest. “Let’s be real here. Aren’t you doing this just to make me jealous?”

She turned around and laughed bitterly. He was right. She’d hoped to galvanize Devon into being a better father. But wasn’t that pathetic? Why did she have to create an elaborate ruse just to get her son’s father to take up his responsibility?

Devon leaned closer. “Yolanda, this could be Marden’s routine.”

She folded her arms over her chest and glared into the distance.

“Maybe he goes around targeting sad, single mothers who look desperate for a date.”

“Did you just call me sad and desperate?” Her patience snapped and it must have shown in her expression because his eyes widened.

“No, of course not. I’m just saying that he might see you like that.”

She glanced at the tree behind Devon’s head, wondering if she was strong enough to break off a branch and whack him with it.

“Yolanda, you promised me you’d give me a chance. I’m just reminding you of what you said.”

“You had a chance and you blew it,” she snapped.

“You’re taking it back? But I haven’t even started properly yet.”

She stepped closer to him, her voice low and heated. “I’m warning you, Devon. A chance is not permission to take control. You don’t own me nor do you dictate how I live my life. You do not have the freedom to crash any event I’m attending and meddle in my affairs. You do not dictate my actions. You never have and you never will.”

“Yolanda.”

“You better leave now if you still want that second chance,” she said flatly.

He moved into her. “I’m not going to give up on you. As long as there’s a sliver of hope, I’m taking back my family.”

Yolanda turned her head away from him and swallowed a lump of emotions. His big brown eyes and that heartfelt promise made her pulse jump. She’d admit that.

Devon was always great at selling dreams. It was why she’d once thought of him as a misunderstood visionary. Several years and a million excuses later, she realized he was too lazy and irresponsible to back up his sweet talking.

“I promise, Yollie,” he whispered.

It annoyed her that Devon could still make her pulse jump like that. It annoyed her that she still remembered what it was like to love him.

Their romance was, suddenly, all there in her head. The heated, passionate nights. The freedom that came with loving a man her mother disapproved of. The wild ambition of youth when all that mattered was dreams and living for today.

But times had changed. She’d grown up and learned too much about love and life. Devon was passionate, but foolish passion didn’t mean maturity. Foolish passion gave promises it couldn’t keep and broke the heart of a little boy who was her entire world. Foolish passion put his own ambitions and needs before his child’s and destroyed everything that did not benefit him.

She didn’t want foolish passion.

Not now.

Not ever.

Devon pursed his lips. “I’ll call Tay-Tay later. I promised him we’d go shopping for new kicks this weekend.”

“Make sure you pick him up on time.”

“I will.”

“I mean it, Devon. If you leave him hanging again…” She’d throttle him herself.

Devon dipped his chin as he stepped out of the shadows and into the light of the garden. “You’ll see, Yollie. I’ll show you that you don’t need Marden. You and Tay-Tay have me. I’m everything you’ll ever need.”

A part of her hoped that was true.

And the other part… the one that had danced with Duane as if no one was watching, the part that held his hand and felt her heart race, the part that knew safety and warmth when he looked at her, it only hoped Devon would run right off a cliff.

Deep in thought, Yolanda returned to the gallery. The orchestra was still serenading the guests. Servers still weaved in and out, meeting the needs of everyone in attendance. The paintings were all beautiful and the tuxes and dresses adorning the guests were more so.

Yet, it all felt empty.

Or maybe it was just Yolanda that felt empty. Drained. Like she’d run a full marathon and didn’t have the strength to walk a step more.

Duane found her there, standing aimlessly on her feet. He looked like a mountain dressed in black. His firm pink lips were set in a thin line and she could see the strain etched into his forehead.

He had questions.

It was right there in his expression.

But he didn’t ask a single one. Instead, he walked right up to her and took her hand. “You’re ready to go, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He gently tucked her into his side. Yolanda didn’t know if he was doing that because her mother was approaching or because he truly meant it. Either way, she cuddled into him and closed her eyes.

Her mother’s voice was more high-pitched than usual. “Is everything… okay?”

She knew her mom was referring to Devon’s sudden appearance. Opening her eyes wearily, Yolanda bobbed her head. “Yes, it’s fine.”

“I saw Devon.”

“Yes, he was here.”

“Hmf. I told Jada to hire security guards. We need to keep the riff-raff out.”

“Mom, he’s still Tay-Tay’s father,” she gently reminded her.

Duane went stiff and she glanced up at him. A flicker of frustration passed through his silver eyes before he shielded it with a polite smile.

“It’s getting late so I’ll take Yolanda home.”

“Of course. Of course.” Her mother waved them away. “Thank you, Duane. Take good care of her.”

“I will, ma’am.” He spoke with conviction and Yolanda wondered how anyone could be that good of an actor.

Duane escorted her to his car, opening her door and gently tucking her inside like she was made of glass. Yolanda caught a glimpse of her muddy dress and sheepishly reached down to swat the mud away.

Duane captured her wrist. His fingers seemed especially pale while wrapped around her dark skin. He smelled like heavy champagne, but he didn’t seem drunk. She wondered what had happened between him and Devon.

“Yolanda…” He began.

She held her breath.

Duane licked his lips and seemed to struggle within himself before finally backing away.

They drove in silence.

Her conflicted emotions kept her from reaching out and asking if Duane was okay. Did she have a right to be concerned when she was using him? But didn’t he agree to be used? The questions ran circles in her mind and gave her a headache.

Duane stopped the vehicle in front of her house. When he shut the engine, the car filled with the sounds of the night and the unwelcome patter of her racing pulse.

“Yolanda, I want to ask you a question and I’d like it if you answered honestly.”

She tried to swallow. Tried to speak past the lump in her throat. When she could do neither, Yolanda just nodded.

“What’s going on between you and Devon?”

Her eyes bulged with a sudden bout of tears. She felt exhausted and the thought of leaning on him, telling him everything and drawing from his strength nearly overwhelmed her.

If she was living only for herself, she’d run straight into Duane’s arms.

But there was Tay-Tay to consider.

She was a mother first and she knew Tay-Tay was hurting. Every rejection, every broken promise, it sent him spinning deeper into hurt. Her heart pained her for all the times he’d needed a father—his father—and Devon hadn’t been around.

It felt like her fault. The ideal situation—the best thing for Tay-Tay—was if his mother and father were together inside a happy and healthy relationship. All the studies, all the scientific journals, said that was best. That it gave him an upper hand in the world. That it would make him a better human being.

But she didn’t live in a perfect world.

She could only bleed and slave and struggle to build one for her son.

The leather seats rustled as Duane shifted his body so he could stare at her. Moonlight pooled over his face, turning his silver eyes into a ghostly blue.

Her heart stirred and Yolanda felt an impulse she’d left behind when Tay-Tay was born. She felt the impulse to be selfish.

Eyes sliding away, she whispered. “There’s nothing going on between me and my ex.” She let out a breath and told herself it wasn’t exactly a lie. “Nothing at all.”