"You were ready to marry Aneesah before Christmas and now you're married to Angelique Deveraux. I don't know what a shrink would have to say about this, but it doesn't sound to me like you know what you're doing, Donnie." Andre's smug tone had almost made Donnie lose his temper.
"Just leave Aneesah out of this, Andre. She has nothing whatsoever to do with any of this." Donnie's voice would have frightened anyone but an older brother; Andre had persisted with his questions.
"Does Angelique even know you were engaged to Aneesah?"
"No, she doesn't, and she doesn't need to know. The only people I told were my brothers and their wives. Pop doesn't even know I asked her. So as long as my brothers keep their mouths shut, it's a nonissue," he said with icy finality.
As the soup began to simmer and the fragrant aroma filled the kitchen, he looked at Angelique who had volunteered to make cornbread to complete the meal. She looked thinner than usual, and pale. He knew it was due to the stress she'd been under and the strain of her family's disapproval. Plus, she was in the midst of preparing for her exhibit and needed serenity more than anything. If he could have thought of another way to handle that mob of reporters at the hotel, he would have. But acting like a happy couple had been the quickest way to defuse the bomb of inaccurate media coverage, and it had worked. He also never wanted anyone to know the truth behind their wedding; he felt that would hurt Angelique even more. So they had decided to stay married for a while and think of some logical reason to part after all the hoopla and speculation had died down.
It wasn't a perfect plan by any means but it was the first thing he could come up with. What he wanted more than anything at this point was to protect Angelique from any kind of humiliation or shame. They'd both been a little crazy that night, no question, but why should she have to suffer for it? The gist of the story had finally come out when Matt and Nicole had returned from their island honeymoon. They had supplied the details the champagne had taken away. Nicole had called and Donnie and Angelique each got on an extension.
"You two started drinking champagne on the plane and you were both a little silly," Nicole reported. "And while we were doing all that waiting around you drank some more. And some more," she added gleefully. "And the more you drank, the happier you got and the more affectionate you got. You guys were holding hands and kissing and talking mush talk and after we got married you decided that you had to get married too, and you did. It was really sweet; Matt and I were your witnesses. Then you decided to go to the Bellagio and we went off to the airport and didn't hear anything about it until we got back, but we didn't really pay it any attention because we were there, you know? We knew what went on so we weren't worried about it. Maybe we should have stopped you two, but you looked so happy."
Even though it was good to have some details supplied it didn't answer the big question of how and when the inevitable divorce would occur. And it didn't answer the question that kept nagging at Donnie, the question of why there had to be a divorce at all. For a reason he couldn't explain, the very idea of divorcing Angelique was one he didn't want to contemplate. He wasn't ready to say why, but he knew he wanted to stay married.
***
Paris and Lisette looked at each other and then looked at Angelique, who definitely was not acting like herself. She was quiet and distracted and picking at her food. Since Lisette had made a fabulous meal, she was naturally concerned that her friend wasn't eating.
"Angelique, what's the matter? Surely you can tell us, you know we'd understand, whatever it is," she said comfortingly.
Paris reached over and stroked her cousin's arm. "Look, Angelique, after you explained the whole situation with the so-called wedding, we kept it on the down low, didn't we? Even after those brothers of yours were raking me over the coals, I kept my mouth shut. That's between you and Donnie and nobody else needs to know. I know pretending to be in a real marriage is hard, and I know you must have some things to get off your chest, so tell us what's going on, sugar," she coaxed.
Angelique made a little face and tried to smile. "I'm sorry I've been such a pain. I just have a ton of stuff on my mind like the exhibit, for one thing, and my family for another. I think I broke my mother's heart, my stepfather is upset with me because I upset her, my brothers think I'm an idiot and I'm pretty sure I've permanently offended God by making a drunken mess of the marriage vows. The person I respect more than anyone, A.J., is so disgusted with me, we're barely speaking. Oh, and before I forget, I don't want to divorce my husband. Other than that, everything is just peachy," she said bitterly.
Lisette and Paris both lit up at that last piece of information. Lisette jumped up and removed the remains of dinner, chattering like a magpie as she did so. "Forget this stupid pasta; we can always nuke it later. This calls for dessert and right now. Paris, you get the plates and I'll get the gateau and then we'll talk."
Soon the aroma of strong espresso was scenting the room and the women were sharing an intensely rich flourless chocolate cake with creme fraiche and raspberries. Confidences just seemed to flow when there was high quality chocolate at hand. Paris was naturally the first one to speak up.
"So you don't want to divorce Donnie even though that was the plan? You want this to be like a real marriage? When did you come to that conclusion?" she asked with ill-concealed curiosity.
Angelique sighed and looked at the morsel of cake on her folk before devouring it. This was the first thing that had tempted her appetite in days; chocolate had always been her weakness. "I don't know exactly when I realized I didn't want to let him go, but I can't pretend I don't care about him. He's been so sweet to me, so kind and caring and just... sweet. He made me soup one day, really good soup. He won't let my family say anything bad about me, or his family, either. And he doesn't act like it was all my fault. He says he's to blame, too. He hasn't yelled at me one time, and that includes when I was screaming at him after he told that pack of reporters we were married for real."
She shuddered slightly at the memory and ate the last bite of her cake. "May I have some more, please? This was wonderful."
Lisette served her the cake and asked what she meant about screaming at Donnie.
"Oh, girl, you should have seen me," she said, making an embarrassed face. "I went ballistic because he was acting all cool and suave like this was a real wedding, and he never said a word to me about what he was going to do. He just blurted it out at the hotel and I had to go along with it. And he did the same thing after we got home, he just told everybody that this was our business and to stay out of it. It was the best thing to do, I guess, but it was just driving me crazy that he could be so cool and tell all those lies without blinking an eye. So I went off on him. More than once, I might add, and he never yelled at me or told me I was being a spoiled brat, which I was." She sighed.
Paris and Lisette were completely captivated by this story and were both leaning forward on the milk-painted farmhouse kitchen table. Paris wanted more information. "So did you ever apologize?"
Angelique stopped with another bite of cake halfway to her mouth. "Of course I did, I'm not a heathen. At least, not anymore," she amended. "I apologized the next day and he was very nice about it. He even hugged me...." Her voice trailed off and she remembered that morning in great detail, the fact that they'd been in the kitchen and that Donnie was still getting dressed and had on a wife-beater and an old flannel shirt he'd yet to button. The memory of his hard, flat stomach and the glimpse of the silky hair on his chest still made her heart beat erratically.
Paris, bless her nosy heart, zeroed right in on that expression. "You also realized that you're married to a big ol' sexy man, didn't you? You really want him, cousin, in every way. So why don't you get him?"
By now the second piece of cake was gone and Angelique stared unhappily at her plate. "I can't ‘get' him, Paris. Just because he's being really sweet to me doesn't mean he wants me, too. And I've told you before, I'm not his type. I'm not a woman he'd ever go for, I'm just some pitiful child he feels sorry for right now. I'm stupid, I'm not crazy," she muttered.