Page 49 of Surrender
“Thank you, baby.”
She kissed my cheek before going to take a seat at the table. I moved to plate us both a serving of grits, eggs, bacon, and toast before heading to the table myself. After a quick prayer, we dug in.
“How do you feel about going back to work today?” I asked.
She groaned. “I’m not ready, but duty calls. What are you doing today?”
“I’ll probably do some packing and call Brenda to see what she has planned for me. Since you’re going back to work, I might as well get back at it, too.”
“How long does it typically take you to write a book?”
“Well, it depends on who I’m writing for. For the two to six-year-olds, I can pop out at least five little stories a week. Seven to eleven, about one a week. Twelve to seventeen, about two weeks. Writing isn’t the hard part. It’s the illustrations that take up a lot of time, especially if I’m working on my own project and somebody else’s, too.”
“The little drawings are so cute, though! The kids that come to the dentist love your books. I even sprung to get the audio versions of a few of them.”
I smiled. “I’m flattered to know that you’ve been a big supporter before you even met me.”
“I have. Now I get to brag and say you’re my husband.”
I chuckled. “You didn’t have a problem letting anybody know I was your husband the other night when I carried you out of that lounge.”
“Oh my God! Really? Was I that drunk?”
“You were pretty tore up. People were watching me carry you out, and you yelled at them. It’s okay! He’s my husband! You held up your wedding ring and all.”
She laughed loudly. “Did I say or do anything else embarrassing?”
I swallowed hard as I glanced down at my plate. Should I tell her what she said? How would she react to that? What if she said she didn’t mean it? I looked back up to find her staring at me, waiting for an answer.
“Baby?” she said with a nervous chuckle. “Did I do something?”
Fuck it. I would tell her. If my feelings were hurt, then so be it. I knew she cared for me even if she didn’t love me yet. I wiped my mouth and clasped my hands in front of me.
“It’s not so much what you did rather what you said .”
“What did I say?”
“You um… you told me you love me.”
Her eyes widened.
“I—”
“You don’t have to say anything. You were drunk, and I wasn’t sure if you meant it or if you even knew you said it. When you didn’t mention it the next morning or say it again, I left it alone.”
I looked away again, afraid of what I would see if I looked into her eyes. There was a split second of silence between us before I heard the sound of her chair scraping the floor as she pushed it back. The next thing I felt was her weight on my lap and her hands on my face.
She lifted my head, forcing me to look into her eyes.
“I’m sorry you had to hear it that way, but I meant it. I love you, Jacob.” She pecked my lips. “I love you.”
I felt the tears stinging my eyes. They said a man ain’t supposed to cry but fuck that. My wife… a stranger mere weeks ago… just admitted she loved me, and she meant that shit.
“I love you too, Kachelle.”
She whimpered. “You mean it?”
“With my soul.”