Page 50 of Session 33
Back home, I took a long shower, letting the water wash away the tension in my body. Afterward, I got comfortable on the couch for another Friday night alone. It’s funny that a year ago, I hadn’t appreciated the quiet, but now I craved it sometimes. I was just starting to drift off to sleep when my phone buzzed. It was Solomon.
“Hey, Solomon,” I answered, my voice still groggy.
“Hey, Angel. Just checking in. How are you feeling?” He’d been doing that a lot—just calling to make sure I was okay. I appreciated him for that.
“I’m okay,” I replied. “I just got back from visiting a friend.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself,” he said. “Listen, I was thinking... You mentioned signing up for Lamaze classes. If you need someone to go with you, I’d be happy to join you. As a friend, of course.”
His offer caught me off guard. “Really? You’d do that?”
“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “You’ve been through a lot. I want to help if I can.”
I hesitated for a moment but then agreed. I hated being the only person in the class without a partner. “Okay. That would be nice. Thank you, Solomon.”
“Anytime,” he replied. “Actually, are you free tonight? I could make you dinner. Something Dominican, my mom’s recipes.”
The thought of a home-cooked meal made my mouth water. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to.”
“Great. I’ll see you around seven?”
“Seven it is,” I confirmed, feeling a small smile creep onto my face.
I slept until six, then got up and showered. I hated getting dressed while pregnant; nothing fit, and I felt so out of shape. I ended up in leggings and a cut pink blouse, not really trying.
Solomon texted me his address. I ended up in a gated neighborhood—not an apartment complex, but the entire community was gated and had its own grocery stores and apartments. Solomon lived in a gorgeous red brick, two-story ranch-style house with a wraparound porch. He was obviously doing well for himself.
I took my time going up the six steps that led to his front door. The door swung open before I knocked.
Solomon gave me a slow, easy smile, and it did something to me. He looked like he had just stepped off aGQcover. He wore a crisp white button-down, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing some type of cultural tattoos on his brown forearms. The shirt clung to his broad chest. His jeans were dark and fitted, hanging low on his hips. His dark eyes locked onto mine as he leaned against the doorframe, one hand in his pocket, the other resting casually on the door.
“Angel,” he said, his voice low, with that slight accent. “Glad you made it.”
I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sudden rush of heat that spread through me. My hormones were out of control.
“Hey, Solomon,” I managed to say, my voice softer than I intended. “Thanks for inviting me.” He stepped back away from the door to let me inside. Everything was decorated in earthy reds and browns that matched his personality.
The dish Solomon made was something that looked like it had come straight from a high-end Dominican restaurant.Ropa vieja,he called it.
As I took the first bite, I couldn’t help but close my eyes, savoring the burst of flavors. “This is incredible, Solomon,” I murmured. “It reminds me of a dish I tried to make from one of my favorite books,Like Water for Chocolate.There’s a scene where the main character makes these stuffed poblano peppers, and she pours all her emotions into the food. This tastes like you did the same.”
He smiled, his eyes lingering on mine. “I’ve read it too. Found it among my mom’s books during a break from college. I ended up getting lost in it, couldn’t put it down. I can see why it’s your favorite. You seem like a passionate woman, Angel.”
The way he said my name, his tone all soft, sounded so—well, almost seductive. And the way he looked at me made my heart beat just a little faster. I felt a flush creep up my neck, glad I was too dark for it to show.
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed on the table, breaking the moment.
“Excuse me for a second,” Solomon said, reaching for his phone. He glanced at the screen, then stood up and took a few steps away before answering.
“Hey, baby,” he said into the phone. “I’m having dinner with a friend, but we should be done by the time you get here.”
My heart sank a little as I realized what he had said.Baby.I wasn’t the only woman in his life. Maybe I had misread the entire situation, thinking he was trying to start something between us. But then I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. I was pregnant, had just broken up with one man I could barely handle, and was about to become a mother—I didn’t need any more complications in my life.
When Solomon returned to the table, he looked as casual as ever, like nothing had changed. We finished our meal, the conversation light and friendly from that point.
By nine, I was leaving. A pink Jeep pulled up as I backed out. Halfway home, I got a text from Solomon telling me to alert him when I made it home safe and thanking me again for coming.
I had enjoyed Solomon’s company, and now that I knew our relationship was strictly platonic, I could see us as friends for real.