Page 18 of Love Delayed
Zamora was not only pregnant but married. I had a mind to turn and leave, but if they thought I was her husband, that meant he wasn’t there. I waited by the desk until they finally led me back. She looked drained but still beautiful. I told myself to focus on being a friend.
After she invited me in, I sat down in the chair near the bed. We talked, and she told me the truth about her situation. I fought to keep my emotions in check, but what I wanted to do was hold her close and tell her all the things that would make her current fucked-up situation be something better than what it was. I wanted to take away her pain, but that was an impossible task at the moment. Only time would heal this devastating night. Before she finally fell asleep, I assured her that I would be there for whatever she needed.
On the walk to my vehicle, I wished I could stay and be there for Zamora when she woke, but I had to head to Eliana’s. When I got there and stepped inside the front door, a roomful of wrapped gifts greeted me. I wondered why an engagement was such a hyped affair that folks felt they had to give gifts. Falling back onto the sofa in exhaustion, I rested my forearm over my head as I shut my eyes.
“How is she?” Eliana asked, standing in the darkness.
Her question surprised me. I didn’t think she would consider for a second that I went to the hospital to check on Zamora. Still, I didn’t lie.
“She’s the best she can be considering.”
“Your mother referred her to me, Marcus. Should I be worried?”
“My mom referred her?” I replied, shocked by that revelation.
I had no idea and wasn’t sure why my mother didn’t tell me. I most certainly would be having a conversation with her to see what her reason behind it was.
“Yes. Now, should I be worried?” she asked again.
“Why would you be, Eli?”
“I’m no fool. I saw how you looked at her, and then you left our engagement party before it was over to be there for her at the hospital. Who is she? An ex? A side chick? Do I need to fire her?” she demanded.
I let out a breath because I knew Eliana was not the one to be played or played with. She was an intelligent woman and very observant.
“That’s not necessary. I just wanted to check on her. Like any decent human being, I was concerned, but she is my past. You are my future and who I want to be with. She and I are nothing. Again, I only wanted to check on her. That’s it, that’s all,” I said with extra bass, wanting to get my point across and hopefully avoid going back and forth with her.
“Good,” Eliana said, then approached me seductively and began planting kisses on my face.
Despite not being in the mood to make love to her, I wanted to keep the peace. So, I gave in and let our bodies indulge in some overdue pleasures. We rocked and rolled, our bodies intertwined for two rounds before she collapsed and fell into a deep sleep. I enjoyed our physical connection, but my heart wasn’t in it. Eliana pleased me enough; I’d never lie about that. However, my heart and soul were tied to Zamora. I had moved on physically from her but not emotionally. I felt foolish for proposing to Eliana without being totally over my past. But I had to live with my decisions, and that meant staying with Eliana. I had asked her to marry me, and I couldn’t break her heart. Somehow, I needed to figure out how to get over Zamora and go through with the choice I had made.
When I woke up the next morning, the other side of the bed was vacant. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand; it was a little after ten o’clock. While sitting with my legs dangling over the side of the bed, my first thought was Zamora. I wanted to call and check on her, but I didn’t get her number before leaving the hospital. I stood, headed into the bathroom, and started the shower, adjusting the water’s temperature before relieving my bladder. After showering and doing the rest of my grooming routine, I threw on a pair of joggers and a T-shirt. I smelled food as I made my way downstairs to the dining room, and as soon as I sat, Eliana walked in with a dish of food.
“Morning, babe,” she said, placing a plate of breakfast in front of me.
“Good morning, baby. Everything smells so delicious, but I know you didn’t cook this,” I replied, ready to dig in.
“You know I didn’t. When I heard you moving around, I put in a quick order, and it arrived seconds before you finished getting dressed,” she said and sat across from me without a plate for herself.
Eliana was vegan, but she ordered me breakfast from time to time from a local breakfast spot near her place on the mornings she had to be gone before me. Since it was a Sunday morning, I felt there were more conversations to be had about Zamora and me because she had that look of curiosity on her face––the look I hated. I had no problem answering her questions, but I had zero intentions of telling her the truth about Zamora. I’d do my best to assure her that we were good and my relationship with Zamora was history.
Focused on the dish before me, I chewed my food while doing a silent countdown for her to speak. Things went a bit too smooth last night, and I knew Eli too well to even think that would be the end of it. As soon as I reached for my glass to take a swallow of my orange juice, she cleared her throat.
“Our engagement party was beautiful yet eventful with the emergency involving your ex. We need to talk about it more, don’t you think?” she asked with a twinge of attitude.
I dropped the fork on my plate. I had hoped that I made myself clear the night before. I wasn’t the type of person who liked to argue or have debates about the same things repeatedly. So, why did we have to have another conversation about what I thought we resolved the night before?
“What?” I asked, looking at her with my brows raised. I tried to keep my frustrations at bay.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were racing off to see her when you left? Don’t you think I had a right to know where you were going?”
I rubbed my hand over my head with irritation.
“Because I didn’t want to answer a thousand questions from you before going. You would have wanted to know why, and no matter what I said, no reason would have been good enough. So, I went. I made sure she was well and came right home to you. I love you; I’m marryingyou. We’re good, Eli. Don’t make this Zamora thing a thing when it’snothing,” I vented, took a sip of my drink, and then picked up my fork to continue eating my breakfast before my eggs got cold.
“Okay. I guess she can still provide the catering services for our wedding if there is nothing I need to be concerned about. The food at the party was perfection, according to our guests, and with your mother insisting she is the best choice, I will move forward with her as our caterer.”
“Great,” I said with a nod while chewing a mouthful of food. “Sheisthe best person for the job, and I want our wedding to be as close to perfect as possible.”