Life After Marriage Book 3

Fight

*** The next two chapters are inspired by an idea by @JaddeDavvis. Thanks for the idea hun.  ***

AMBER P.O.V. -

 “How did it go?” Nicki asked me as she walked in, putting down her briefcase on the coffee table in front of me.

“He’s done.”

“Aww Amby.” She came and sat next to me on the couch.

“I tried and I’ve been crying all day, but that solves nothing so… If it wasn’t meant to be, it just wasn’t meant to be.”

I shrugged and rested my chin on my hand that was on the shoulder of the couch.

“Nope, nope, nope. We are not going to mope around.” She grabbed both my hands and put them in hers, staring directly at me.

“Do you want your marriage?”

“Of course but—“

“Unh-Unh no buts.” She cut me off.

“Do you want your husband back? Yes or No.”

“Yes.”

“That’s all I needed to know.” She got up off the couch, looked in her briefcase and got me a notepad and pen.

“Here.” She handed them to me.

“What is this?” I looked at her irritated.

“Just take it girl.”

I reluctantly took it.

“Now you’re going to write him a letter.”

“No Nic, No!” I handed her back the pad and pen.

“Yes you are. This is what I used to do when I was locked up. I had all this time on my hand and I wrote letters to just everybody in my life that meant something to me at some point in time. But there’s a catch.” She smiled.

“What?” I said unamused.

“You have to make the letter in form of a song. ”

“Song?”

“Yup.” She sat on my lap.

“I don’t know how to write music. Rell’s the musician. Not me.”

“Your dad was one too, it’s in your blood.”

“I don’t know Nic. It’s gonna sound stupid. Like a Migos song. Repeated repetitions of words. Like Versace, Versace, Versace.” I laughed.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect. You should’ve heard some of my songs, there was so stupid and I can’t sing a lick. Just tell him how you’re feeling right now without him.   The only person that’s going to hear it is you and Aug.”

“Me and Aug? What!? No.” I profusely shook my head.

“Yessssssssssssss!” She insisted. “He won’t listen to you talk, he’s going to listen to you sing. I heard you girl, you got chops.”

“Nic please. What you heard was me singing along to the radio.” I laughed.

“And you sounded damn good girl.”

“No, I’m not embarrassing myself . On top of that, where am I supposed to sing at?”

“We’re going to get a karaoke machine, a mic, your brother, his keyboard and give him a show right on his doorstep.”

“Absolutely not.” I stood up so over this idea.

“Amby it’s a great idea.”

“He’s going to call the police.”