Page 60 of Invisible Bars

“Because, for one, it’s not a real wedding, Dess. Remember? Second, Naji gets overwhelmed around new faces; too many people around might make her start ticcing.”

“She’s gonna tic anyway just off the strength of marryingyou!” she mumbled. “But I get it…somewhat.” Dessign squinted at me suspiciously. “Can I just meet her before the wedding?”

“No,” I stated firmly.

“Why notttttttt?!”

“Because I don’t need you sitting her down with a glass of wine and a slideshow presentation titled ‘The Real Man You’re Marrying’ and end up scaring the girl off.”

She gasped dramatically. “I wouldnever… I’d wait untilaftery’all are married to go down memory lane with her. Although she saw the ‘real’ you when you killed whomever.”

“Dess, the answer is no. It’s settled.”

Dessign folded her arms and leaned back like she was in a telenovela.

“Fine!” she huffed. “Since I’m not invited to your wedding,youare officiallyuninvitedto mine!”

I chuckled. “You don’t even believe that.”

Dessign pressed her palm to her forehead like she was about to faint.

“Oh, this somebullshit!I’m calling Chi! I need emotional support! This might be the worst news I’ve gotten all year!”

I laughed. “You so damn dramatic.”

“And you’reselfish!” she yelled after me. “You better at least send me a picture!”

“Why you so pressed about me having a wedding—which isn’t going to happen—have you even set a date for you and Chi’s wedding?”

“Imanio, I already told y’all I’mnotgetting married until I can walk down the aisle… andnotwith a cane!”

See, that was the real Dessign… stubborn as hell.

After her accident three years ago, the doctors told her she’d never walk again… but they didn’t know who they were dealing with.

When you have money, God, and a therapist so exclusive you can’t even find them on Google, you start rewriting your own story…. and we did.

Dessign still wasn’t fully walking, but she could take plenty of steps—with a cane. The problem was that shehatedusing it. Dessign claimed it made her feel old—like she needed to be sitting in somebody’s bingo hall.

“Well, sis,” I said, standing up and stretching a little, “I suggest you put your pride to the side and get in some walking with that cane like your therapist told you.”

“I hate that damn thing!” she hissed.

“I know.” I walked over to her. “But let me say this—you’ve come too far to stop here. You’re walking, Dess…walking.That’s a miracle in itself.”

She glanced away, chewing on her cheek like she was fighting back emotions.

I leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“You hear me? You took steps doctors swore you never would. That ain’t just therapy, that’s God. But even miracles need maintenance. You can’t be out here letting your progress collect dust because you’re worried about looking ‘old.’ You’re strong as hell, Dess. But strength ain’t always about pushing through; sometimes, it’s aboutshowing upfor the slow days too. Use the cane. Walk like you own the ground under you. I got to head back to the crib,” I finished, grabbing my keys.

“Let me guess… to make sure she ate? Slept? Had her daily spoonful of applesauce and bedtime lullaby?” Dessign kidded, with a smirk.

“If you must know, she’s sleeping.”

“You’re falling for her, brother of mine, and you don’t even realize it…yet. Or maybe you do, but your pride is just too big for you to admit it.”

“I’m not falling for her,” I lied so smooth I almost believed it. “This is business… nothing personal.”