Last Time | b. boston jr

003

It's not about you.

Take a breath, Sunny.

"You should go over there before the memorial starts," Rafael advised.

Sunday shook her head, "Nope. I'm good."

"During would just be a bad scene." Jeanette nodded.

"No, I'm fine. He's fine." Sunday turned towards the stage and prayed for the start of the memorial.

But it was too late, he had caught sight of her.

"Ma. I mean, Sunny." Brandon called to her.

Sunday continued to ignore him, making her friends give her exasperated looks.

"We're gonna go over there." Rafael jabbed his thumb over to a lonelier space near the entrance of the football field.

"Don't leave me!" Sunday hissed, trying to make a grab for Jeanette's hand but the duo were now too far away.

There was a tap on her shoulder, Sunday looked up and tried not to pass out.

NBA conditioning and training had forced Brandon to gain some muscle, his hair was longer and he was growing a goatee that fit him.

"I was calling you." Brandon widened his eyes a little.

"Oh, were you? I didn't hear you," Sunday lied.

Did he always look that good or are my hormones on a thousand right now?

Brandon chuckled, "Right. You bought some people too?"

"Yeah, some friends from law school." Sunday said.

It was silent for a second before, "I-." They both said at the same time.

"You can go first." Brandon encouraged.

"I just... Thanks for pushing me that day. You helped me make the right choice." Sunday nodded.

Brandon opened his mouth to speak but before he could, a blonde with brown eyes and a little shorter than Sunday, about 5'5, came strolling up to Brandon's side, "Babe, I found your friend, Josh. He's so funny. Hi!"

Her tone was bubbly and her New Orleans accent was deep.

Babe?

"Um, hi?" Sunday said.

"Oh, m-," Brandon cleared his throat, correcting himself, "Sunday, this is Kim. My fiancee."

It was about right then that Sunday was sure she was going to faint, right there on the turf.

They had continued to be friends, somewhat, after the breakup, so much so that Sunday had sworn to herself that her and Brandon would be getting back together as soon as she finished getting her law degree.

But now it was almost two years later since that fateful day and she was staring down at a huge engagement rock on another woman's finger, trying not to scream, puke, cry or worse all three.

"Oh, you're Sunday! I've heard a lot about you! You're so pretty!" Kimberly grinned and stuck a hand out to her.

She seemed genuine so Sunday forced her own grin and shook Kimberly's hand.

"I'm... I'm happy for you two." Sunday managed to say, "Really. I should go, my friends are probably wondering where I went off to," Sunday turned towards Brandon's fiancee, "It was nice meeting you, Kim."

And then she was gone, speedily walking back across the field to her friends.

"What happened?" Jeanette asked.

"He's engaged. He found the complete opposite of me and he's gonna marry her." Sunday said lowly, "He's gonna marry a fucking barbie doll."

"Why did I come here? This was such a mistake." She continued in a miserable tone.

"Do you wanna leave?" Jeanette asked in a soft tone.

Rafael wrapped one arm protectively around Sunday's shoulders.

"No. It's not about me. I came for Terrence. I just... We need to find a bar right after this. Like right after." Kylah came around and passed a white balloon to each of them as Sunday spoke.

A woman with twists and deep skin had made her way onto the stage, the orange sky behind her, "My name is Osmine Clarke or Terrence's mom."

Osmine took a deep breath, the microphone in front of her lips catching it all, "'A wife's who loses a husband is called a widow. A husband who loses a wife is called a widower. A child who loses a parent is called an orphan. That's how awful the loss is.'"

She visibly choked up and Kylah came up to stage and wrapped her arm around the woman, similar to the way that Rafael had his arm wrapped around Sunday.

Kylah cleared her throat as she began to read Osmine's speech, "It's been five years but the pain inside is like I just lost him this morning. Terrence was one of my greatest joys, a shining star, no wonder why God wanted him home so soon. I encourage you to love on the people in your life, be a good Samaritan and cherish the life you were given."

Kylah lifted the arm carrying the white balloon and released it, "For Terrence."

The rallying cry carried throughout the field as hundreds of white balloons were released into the bright stars.

"For Terrence." Sunday murmured then lifted her head to watch her own balloon began to drift away into the night sky.

NOTE FROM KY
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