On the Other Side (3 page)

“I plead the fifth,” Brandon said.

“Yeah right.”

Brandon was movie star handsome. He had naturally curly hair, cappuccino-toned skin and a slim athletic build that women loved. Damita couldn't resist on commenting on his attire for the evening.

“You must have been cursing me out when you got dressed today. I know how much you hate wearing a suit and tie.”

“Yeah, I'm more of a jeans man. And, don't worry, the tie is coming off as soon as it looks like everyone is too drunk to notice.”

Damita laughed and continued dancing with Brandon as the music changed from “Unforgettable” to “Insane in the Brain.” As the floor filled with guests eager to dance to the upbeat tune, Damita and Brandon enjoyed their walk down memory lane, as they sang along.

While Brandon and Damita laughed at the guests and he joked about how hot her mother still was, Neal watched the pair intently.

“I think old boy is jealous,” Brandon said.

“No, he's not.”

“He hasn't stopped staring at us since we started dancing.”

“He's not staring at you. He's staring at me. I'm just that beautiful,” Damita assured him jokingly.

“Okay; whatever you say. I still think we should end this little dance now, before I go home with a busted lip.”

“My baby doesn't have a violent bone in his body.”

“That's nice to hear.”

After everyone had eaten and all the toasts had been made, they were all dancing and enjoying the party. Damita spotted Neal heading toward her with what appeared to be a scowl on his face.

“What's he doing here?” Neal asked, pointing across the room.

“Who, baby?”

“You know exactly who. What is your ex doing here?”

“My ex? Who are you talking about?” Damita asked, laughing.

“Don't laugh at me.”

“Okay, baby. I'm not laughing at you. I'm just not sure who you're talking about. There are no ex-boyfriends of mine here.”

“What about him?” Neal asked, pointing in Brandon's direction.

“Brandon? Is that who you're talking about? Brandon is my
play
brother,” Damita responded, in an amused tone. “I can't believe it. We've been married all of two hours and you're jealous already,” Damita teased.

“Damita, I'm not joking. Who invited him?”

“My mom . . . and me,” she added, not wanting Neal to resent her mother.

“I figured it was your mother. All I want to know is why she despises me so much. I have been nothing but cordial and respectful to the woman. Yet, she likes that
nobody
better than she does her own son-in-law.”

“Brandon is like family. My whole family . . . and I have known Brandon since we were both in kindergarten together.”

“How would you feel if I invited one of my old girlfriends to our wedding? You wouldn't like it very much, would you?”

“Neal, you're not hearing me. Brandon is
just
a friend. Okay, I understand. I'm sorry. I probably should've explained to you that Brandon was a part of the family. I didn't think it would be that big a deal. We've both been so busy working you haven't had an opportunity to connect with everyone.”

“It's a big fucking deal!”

It was the first time Damita had heard Neal curse or even raise his voice. It was something she hoped she wouldn't hear often. It also seemed so unwarranted.

Standing in the middle of the ballroom, Damita silently reminded herself of where she was and what her life was going to be like. She looked around the ballroom, gazed up at the ornate chandeliers
that hung high above her and she smiled. It was going to be a good life. Marriage, like anything else, wasn't always perfect, but her marriage was going to be as close to perfect as anyone's could. She was sure of it. Her wedding day in all its splendor was sure to be a sign of things to come.

The wedding reception continued without event. Damita tried her best to steer Brandon clear of Neal. With the two hundred or so guests in attendance, her task wasn't too difficult. She considered enlisting the aid of her best friend, Carmella, but that would mean giving an explanation. And, the last thing she wanted to do was lend credence to everyone's doubts about her new husband, especially Carmella.

“Girl, you okay?” Carmella asked.

Damita sighed. “I'm good. I'm a little tired.”

“I knew it! That's why your ass got married. You're pregnant, aren't you?”

Damita put her finger to her lips, cautioning Carmella to be quiet.

“Shhh; now why do you want to go starting rumors? No, I'm not pregnant. But, I do plan on trying as soon as possible. Neal is anxious to start a family. After all, I'm thirty-five years old. I'm not getting any younger and that clock of mine is ticking away.”

“That's not why you got married, is it; because of your biological clock?”

“No, Carmella. I married Neal because I absolutely, positively adore him.”

“I'm sorry, girl. I just don't see it,” Carmella said, frowning.

Carmella glanced over at Neal, adjusting his tie so that it was perfectly straight. She didn't mention it to Damita at that moment, but it occurred to her that he had all the earmarks of a serial killer, with all that fidgeting and adjusting—the perfection. Then, as if on cue, he did what he always did, stared directly at Damita.

Damita and Neal had been dating for over a year, but from the very first time she met him, Carmella always noticed how he never, ever allowed Damita to get too far away from his bird's-eye view. Damita considered it endearing. Carmella thought it was plain ole creepy. She had known her share of obsessive, controlling men. And, in her experience, relationships with men such as Neal always ended badly.

As Carmella observed Neal watching Damita, she sensed something different in him. There was a certain air of cockiness that was somehow more intense than it had been before. He seemed to be standing even taller and speaking with even greater precision. That's when it occurred to Carmella what it was. He had won the prize. He no longer had to play the role for Damita's family or friends. She was now his wife and there was nothing any of them could do about it.

As Carmella and Neal both eyeballed one another, neither of them willing to admit defeat, Brandon joined Carmella and Damita on the other side of the room.

He grabbed both Carmella and Damita around the neck simultaneously, hugging them to him. “So that leaves you, Carmella. This one here has broken my heart and married someone else, so I'll have to marry you.”

Carmella giggled. “Uh, uh, I'm no one's booby prize.”

“Naw, naw, it's not like that. All these years I've been biding my time, getting cozy with Damita in order to get to her hot, Latina friend.”

“I know that's right,” Carmella agreed.

Although Carmella didn't think Damita, nor anyone else noticed, Neal's response to Brandon's presence was unmistakable. She watched as Neal's jaws clenched tightly.

N
eal's anger forgotten, Damita enjoyed the rest of the wedding reception. Once she had thrown the bouquet it was time for them to leave.

“Are you guys staying here, at the hotel?” Carmella asked.

“No, we have such an early flight in the morning. We didn't think it would be worth the expense, especially considering what this place cost,” Damita responded.

“That's right; Jamaica.”

“We wanted to spend some time in the new place.”

“Did you guys even have time to decorate the condo?”

“We were both working so much before the wedding, we didn't have much time to add that personal touch, but Neal hired decorators to give the place that homey feeling. I wanted to enjoy at least one night in the place before we leave for our honeymoon.”

“Have a great time,” Carmella said, hugging her friend around the neck.

Damita was saying goodbye to everyone when she realized she hadn't seen Neal for at least a half-hour.

“Has anyone seen Neal?”

“He's here somewhere. I think I saw him talking to one of your coworkers,” Brandon said.

Neal showed up just in time to hear Brandon.

“Did I hear someone was looking for me?”

“There you are,” Damita said.

“Are we ready to go?” Neal asked.

“I thought we should say goodbye to a few of our guests.”

“I'm sure our guests understand how exhausted the bride and groom are. Maybe we should sneak away now while the getting is good.”

The ride home in the limo was unbelievably quiet. As much as Damita tried to drag some conversation out of Neal, he remained silent. She assumed he was tired and decided to stop trying to get him to talk.

Once at their front door, Damita spoke again.

“Aren't you going to carry me across the threshold?” she asked giddily.

He didn't bother to respond.

She stared at Neal, completely confused.

Once inside the apartment, Damita looked around at the impressive job the decorators had done. The living room was more traditional than she would have liked; with the cherry wood furnishings and burgundy leather couch. However, the beauty of everything more than made up for the fact that it wasn't all metal and glass, as she preferred. The moment she turned to speak to Neal about the apartment things became crystal clear.

The first crack across her cheek came without warning. She was stunned and, by the time she recovered, and got up from the floor, he hit her again. This time it felt more like a punch. She saw shooting colors in front of her eyes and, for some reason, thought of boxers. She wondered how they could let someone punch them for a living.

Neal screamed at her. “You'll never embarrass me like that again!”

Tears fell from her eyes and mixed with the blood on her lips.
Damita's shock made it impossible for her to recover long enough to even begin to feel anger. She had no idea what was going on. When he'd first hit her, she was sure someone else must have entered the room. She stared at him wide-eyed and confused.

Through her sniffles, and the blood filling her mouth, she mustered the energy to speak. “Neal, what are you saying? I don't understand. Why? What are you talking about?”

“You made a fool of me in front of my colleagues, family and friends. What kind of woman does a thing like that? You invited your lover to our wedding! I thought I was done with lying whores when I met you, but it seems I was wrong. He was pawing all over you and that Carmella person all night. I watched the three of you. What kind of sick, twisted games have you all been playing?

“I get ill just thinking of what kind of life you must have led before we met. It disgusts me. I'll forgive you, though, as long as you know it stops here. That was your old life. You're a married woman now and you'll behave accordingly. I have a reputation to uphold and I won't have my wife acting like some sort of a slut.”

“Neal, what the hell are you talking about?”

His look told her everything she needed to know. It was a look of caution, a look that didn't require words in order to instill fear.

“I don't understand. I thought everything was fine. We had a beautiful wedding day. Why would you hurt me like this?”

“That's ironic. That's the question I should be asking you. Why would
you
want to hurt me this way?”

Damita dabbed at the blood in the corners of her mouth and gazed in disbelief at the evidence of what had occurred, smeared and crimson, on her hands.

He reached for her and she jumped, startled by his sudden movement.

“What has happened to us? Now you're afraid of me? I only want to help you. You have so much promise, Damita.
We
have so much promise. I want to help you see your full potential. You're better than this; better than those people you spend so much time with.”

Gazing into his eyes, sensing the shift in his demeanor and remembering the kind man she had fallen in love with and married, she was even more confused. Damita ran, crying, into the walk-in closet in the master bedroom, and she locked the door.

She sat there trying to figure out what was going on. It was all so much like a puzzle. The pieces, somehow, didn't seem to fit. She looked around at the large closet that was almost as big as the bedroom in her first apartment. Only weeks ago, she felt like she was sitting on top of the world; now she wasn't so sure. She remembered her excitement when she gave the decorator her specifications for the extravagant closet; the white bench with the gold embroidered seat, the expensive vanity table and row upon row of glass shelving, along with the plush carpeted floor. She never knew she would spend her wedding night curled up on the floor in that very same closet.

While she sat there trying to organize her jumbled thoughts, she could feel his presence on the opposite side. She almost thought she could hear him breathing and wondered if he would simply get sick and tired of pleading with her to open the door and eventually knock it down altogether. Every now and then he would turn the knob. She assumed he was hoping to find it unlocked. Just when she thought things were returning to some semblance of normalcy, he began pounding on the door and kicking it.

Damita winced when he started pounding at the door once again.

“Damita, I'm trying my very best to be patient! Open this fucking door!”

She was afraid to answer him and instead clasped her ears with her hands, hoping to block out all sound.

He finally calmed down and once again spoke to her in measured deliberate tones. “Damita, I'm so sorry. I don't know what got into me. I've been down this road before. I so wanted things to be different with us. You're mine. I can't stand the thought of sharing you with someone else. I won't.

“I watched him all night; your
friend
, Brandon. It was like he was taunting me. He was laughing and smiling all night. At one point he even approached me and told me what a great girl I was getting. He acted as though it was some sort of inside joke we both shared. Did you sleep with him? I have to know because it's eating me up inside.”