Lust. || BEYNIKA

L|Chapter TWENTY-eight.

Onika Cookie Maraj.

Two weeks later...

"WE'RE still on for lunch, right?"

Sighing, I check my schedule and see that my lunch hour is completely free. How unfortunate. I've become so unsocial it's painful. "I don't know if I'm up to it, Lauren," I start, but she cuts me off with an irritated snort.

"Screw that business, girlfriend. I'm taking you out to lunch whether you like it or not. We're going to that sushi place you love, we're going to order not one but two of our favorite rolls and then we're going to devour them until we feel like we're going to burst. What do you say?"

Sounds like a nightmare. But I can't say that to Lauren. She's my best friend and she's only trying to cheer me up after that fiasco of a so-called relationship with Beyoncé. "Fine. Want me to meet you there?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind. Say around twelve-thirty?"

"That should work." Luckily enough, Sharon doesn't mind if my lunch hour is flexible, as long as she can get a hold of me whenever she needs me. The more I've worked with her, the more I enjoy it.

She didn't ask questions about the Beyoncé experience either. I forwarded her pictures for my online portfolio, she expressed her pleasure with the interior design I came up with, and that was that. Nothing else was said.

Just the way I prefer it. Talking about Beyoncé—heck, even thinking her name—hurt too much.

"See you then." Lauren pauses, and I clutch the phone tight, scared of what she might say. "Chin up, okay hon? Don't let this get you down. She's just a woman, after all."

"Right, just a woman," I say weakly, wondering if she realizes she's mirroring the same hurtful thing she said about me.

Just Onika... she doesn't count.

If she walked into the room right now, I'd probably slug her in that too-pretty face of hers. Let's see if hes would refer to me as just Onika then.

God, I miss her. I want her back—I'm in love with her. But I can't forgive her for saying what she said to Aubrey. Doesn't help that I spoke to my brother, and he told me some story Beyoncé had spun to him as well. Denying that we were together, swearing up and down nothing was going on between us. Something about a picture Caiah saw online of the two of us together, smiling at each other like we're in love.

Beyoncé didn't bother to tell me about that picture either.

She lied to everyone. She lied to me. My heart still aches.

But would I ever get over her? I really, really hope so.

Someday.

I throw myself into my work because it's the only thing that keeps my mind occupied and off my troubles. I move through my days like some sort of ghost. Functioning, able to complete my tasks, meet with clients, answer the phone, only to go home and crawl into bed. Watch sappy movies and cry into my pillow, wishing I wasn't alone.

I am a pitiful, horrible wreck.

In my sleep, she comes to me. Smiling that beautiful smile of hers, the dimple flashing, and then I'm suddenly in her arms. Slowly melting when she whispers how much hse loves me. Until I'm falling completely under her spell, ready for her to make love to me.