Page 2 of The Marriage Narrative
Three: once she liberated herself from demonhood, all she’d wanted to do was make her parents proud by getting into college. As they say, C’s get degrees, or in this case, a diploma.
During college, she decided to wait until she graduated. She’dgone to a PWI. That “ring by spring” life didn’t apply to her or any of the other Black girls—gorgeous, gorgeous Grace included.
And then they met Fiona through mutual friends and became a trio. Three years later, she’d never been happier.
The End…or not, considering her best friends’ happily ever after was imminent.
Zinnia’s person was out there, somewhere, and she’d realized in stunningI barely leave the houseclarity that she was never going to meet them. They were never going to find each other, like two ships passing in eternal night. Her best bet was to settle for second best.
She devoted one hundred percent of herself to her friendships and her marriage would be no different. They’d work hard and build a life together based on mutual respect and understanding. Become built-in buddies for road trips, movie dates, and vacations. They’d rely on compassionate problem-solving, have collaborative goals, and be each other’s biggest cheerleader. Safety, warmth, support—she wanted it all and wanted to give them the same in return.
“If you’ve already made up your mind, why bother telling us?” Grace asked.
“Because I need you with me on this.” The next slide was a picture of the three of them on the day they met overlapped with a picture they’d taken last week during movie night. “Whoever I choose will be a part of your lives too.”
Fiona stared at her, stone-faced. “It’s truly frightening how you just did that. How do you always know what we’re going to say?”
“It’s a gift.” Zinnia smiled. She knew them better than anyone.
“There’s no way in hell you thought we’d be fine with this,” Grace said.
“I knew there’d be some…opposition, but I’ve convinced you to do way worse than helping me get married.”
Grace frowned. The unfocused, faraway look in her eyes probably meant she was mentally ranking every zany scheme and life side quest Zinnia had ever suggested.
“You know, some people would consider this fun.” She gestured to her presentation.
“Those people aren’t us, Z.” Her best friends exchanged a look—and there it was again. The growing connection between them that didn’t even consider leaving room for her.
They knew their dynamic was shifting as well as she did. The homey townhouse apartment they all shared was filled with charged silences, furtive glances, and unspoken secrets.
Looking back, Zinnia realized that the shift had actually started when they moved in. Her roommates had a similar decor vision in mind, the kind of purposefully cluttered house popular in movies from the 1990s. They also had more money than her. She didn’t feel right objecting when they were paying for almost everything.
She did get to choose one lamp, though—a bulbous yellow mosaic monstrosity sitting next to her usual side of the couch. She swapped out the lamp shade as the seasons changed. Currently, it was white and covered with green raindrops for spring.
That was how she felt on her worst days—like an offbeat lamp whose light had gotten swallowed up. If it disappeared, no one would even miss it because they had much brighter, better lights.
Zinnia had seen this storyline before. They’d have each other and she’d have no one. They’d try their best to keep things normal for as long as they could, but it wouldn’t last. Their little three-party democracy would collapse into a built-in two against one, and if either of them took her side, it’d cause ripples in their relationship.
She didn’t want that to happen. She didn’t want them to ever feel like they had to choose. Her best friends. Her roommates.Her business partners. She loved them, individually and together. She wanted them to be happy.
“I keep getting this feeling that I’m missing something,” Zinnia confessed, completely off script. “And that if I don’t try now, I’ll miss my chance altogether. I know this sounds drastic, but I just want to be happy. Nothing else has worked, so why not this?”
A marriage-merger was an admittedly far-fetched idea, but hey. History was written by the winners, and hindsight would do a lot of heavy lifting when she told this story to her future family.
“Fine.” Grace relented as she crossed her arms. “But they’re not moving in here. You can take that right off your damn list now.”
“And if we’re helping you, we get a say in how this goes down,” Fiona said.
“That’s not—”
“Nope.” Fiona pointed at her. “No objections. My commonsense precautions are nonnegotiable.”
Zinnia didn’t anticipate this part. No one could knock her off kilter like a spontaneous Fiona—when she set her anxiety down long enough to let that side of her out, anyway.
“All right. What kind of precautions are we talking about here?”
Chapter 2
