Page 28 of Saving Saul

“It is,” I counter, my voice rising as I let my frustration spill over. “Anything outside your perfectly controlled, boring life gets dismissed as reckless. Forgive me if I take your warnings with a grain of salt. Besides, Carissa is going. It’ll be fun.”

There’s a pause, and I can almost hear Selene’s exasperation through the line. I picture her pacing her apartment, phone clutched in one hand, the other pressed to her temple as if I’m the source of all her headaches. She always does this—worries too much and tries to control too much. It’s her way of showing love, but sometimes it feels more like a chokehold than a hug.

“You think Carissa’s presence makes it more appealing?” she asks, her voice dripping with skepticism. “Girl, please. That woman lives for drama.”

“Exactly,” I reply, a sly smile tugging at my lips. “She’s the life of the party, and you need a little bit of her energy in your life. Honestly, so do I.”

“No, you don’t. Instead, you should listen to my advice more often than your wild-ass friend because I’m usually right, and that chick stays wrong! I was honest enough to tell you that participating in that reality TV show,Love, Unmasked,was a dumb idea. She was all like,yassss, best friend, do it!Now, look at what happened.

I swear to God….

“Drop the dramatics, Selene. You don’t know half as much about my time onLove, Unmaskedas you think you do. It didn't turn out as bad as you make it out to be. I may not have ended up happily married, but now I know precisely the kind of man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Spshhhhh,” Selene tuts. “I’m not being dramatic. You didn’t get married, which is the whole point of the show. Then, you didn’t tell our family that you were going onLove, Unmaskedin the first place!”

“Selene, I don’t have to tell our family all my business just because you do. Plus, I told Grand-mère, and she was all for it!”

Selene ignores me. “How do you think our aunties and cousins will feel when the Netflix banner shows them the number one show in America, featuring their niece and cousin being jilted on reveal day for all of America? At least with the showBlind Altar, you invite your family into the process to prepare them for possible humiliation before the disaster publicly strikes.”

I tip my head against my soft red couch and rub my eyes. I feel a migraine coming on. The show doesn’t drop for months, and I’ve done a good job blocking its release out of my mind. But all Selene wants to talk about is that ridiculous show.

Selene and I hang out one weekend a month, and I didn’t want to exclude her from Carissa’s and my fun. She loves British Literature andJames Bondas much as I do.

So I called her. I should take Carissa’s advice and leave her butt at home.

Selene will not ruin my fun by being a wet blanket on my plans tomorrow night. Plus, as soon as she gets there and has a few drinks, she will be the life of the freaking party.

“Selene, listen, Chèrie, I’m going to the party, and you are free to join me if you like. But I’m not going to beg you. I’m also not going to defend my decision to go onLove, Unmaskedall night.”

Selene pops the gum she’s chewing, and I cringe. I hate that sound. “Fine, but I'm out if anything happens at that Old Refinery. You know, the slaves that lost their lives there still haunt it. Every year, some tragedy befalls some unsuspecting fool. I’d rather that fool not be me or you.”

I laugh. “It won’t be me or you because the ancestors love us.”

“Ha!” Selene exclaims. “Plus, everyone knows why the old refinery is dangerous—Cecil Boudreaux. He’s a gangster from way back.”

I laugh. “Selene, nothing is going to happen. Plus, Mr. Cecil loved Daddy; I’m sure he remembers us. So, we will be perfectly safe.”

I walk over to the kitchen island and tuck the phone between my shoulder and ear as I knead dough for tomorrow’s batch of beignets. The motion relaxes me, and I can talk to Selene any time. I need all the help I can get to relax. And I can tell she’s winding up to get on my nerves.

“Tessa,” Selene’s voice is crisp and direct, with no warm-up or pretense. “Tell me the truth—have you never looked for him?”

My hands are still for the briefest moment before I force myself to keep moving, pressing the dough harder than necessary. I should’ve known this was coming. Selene has the kind of instincts that don’t let things slide. “Who?” I ask, playing dumb, though we both know exactly who she means.

“Don’t start,” she huffs. “You know damn well who. Saul Mensah. Have you let it go? Are you actually over him?”

I swallow hard, applying more pressure than needed as I roll out the dough. I’ve never shared the truth with Selene—not about the dreams, not about the scorching pearls against my skin whenever I face a choice, and certainly not about the lengths I’ve gone to in search of Saul. She wouldn’t comprehend. She’d advise me to let it go, to move on like any rational woman would after being abandoned on national television.

But I can’t.

I haven’t.

And if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t think I ever will—at least, not without answers.

“Tessa?” Selene presses when I take too long to respond. “I don’t buy it. If some guy left me hanging like that, I’d want toknow where he is, if he’s suffering, if he’s miserable without me. Hell, I’d track him down to let him have it. But you? You haven’t even tried?”

I let out a slow breath, keeping my voice as even as possible. “What would be the point? He’s gone, Selene. And I have other things to focus on.”

There’s a sharp pause, the kind that makes my stomach tighten. “Uh-huh,” she says, skepticism thick in her tone. “And you’re completely over it? Just like that?”

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