Page 21 of The Fallen Man

“That is mean,” she said, but Jackson only chuckled unrepentantly.

“Speaking of your man,” said Jackson, and Dominique felt a chill of unease as Jackson looked around her, ostensibly checking the street before turning. “What’s up with your oven? Is it desperately in need of cleaning or what?”

“He told you about that?” Dominique felt herself turning pink. Embarrassment and shame flooded up from her stomach, and she felt hot all over.

“He said he’d been trying to put a ring on it, but you seem to be having some sort of oven cleaning, party-planning fetish.”

“Why do you have to pry into everything?” she demanded, knowing her voice sounded shrill.

“I don’t know. Why did you lie to me?” Jackson replied ashe pulled up in front of her building. “You said he hadn’t even talked about marriage.”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” she said, fumbling for the door handle and her purse. The meeting papers scattered everywhere, falling into the leg area. She snatched at them as Jackson reached onto the console next to him and clicked a button. She grabbed all her bits and pulled the door handle, but it clunked uselessly in her hand. She flipped the unlock switch and reached for the handle again. There was a second clunk, and Jackson relocked the door.

“Did you just lock me in the car?” she demanded, rounding on her cousin.

“Nika, breathe.”

“No, screw you. I’m not doing this!”

“No, I’m serious. You’re freaking me out. Please stop and breathe for like ten seconds.”

“While you try and talk to me? I don’t need you to talk to me!”

“I will stop talking if you start breathing.”

Dominique glared at her favorite cousin, and he stared back without saying a word. She loudly inhaled through her nose and then exhaled through her mouth.

“I should have had garlic for lunch,” she said, exhaling in his direction. He said nothing and shrugged. She repeated the breaths, and by the third, she felt better. By the fifth, she felt less hot and weird.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said after the sixth. “Can I go now?”

“Are you going to talk to Max about it? What’s up? If you want to break up, I think you need to start saying something.”

The words stabbed at her heart. Dominique dropped everything to put her hands over her mouth, trying to hold back the tears, but her eyes promptly welled up and spilled over. Dominique gave up and sat in Jackson’s car and sobbed.

“Nika, what the…” Jackson reached over and pulled her into a hug.

“I love him so much,” she gasped into his shoulder between strangled breaths.

“OK?” He patted her back

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” she wailed.

“OK. Uh… Let’s just get the basics out of the way. You love Max?”

“Yuh.” She knew the word was muffled by his coat, but she didn’t want to move.

“You don’t want to break up?”

“Nuh.”

“OK. So that’s good because Max has recently also saidyuhabout you. So you do want to get married?”

“Nuh. Yuh.” She said again, then wailed in frustration.

“You don’t want to get married, but you don’t want to break up?” Jackson sounded like he was just guessing.

Dominique turned her head to one side and took in a large breath of oxygen. “I had a panic attack.”