“Misha,” Blaze says again, becoming annoyed.
I hear footsteps behind me, and a hand touches my hip. I know who it is without turning.
“Misha,” Marcus says behind me.
Misha’s eyes narrow in on me. “No, I didn’t sleep with him. Not that I didn’t try, though.” Blonde bitch winks at Marcus.
“Pack your shit, Misha, and leave,” Blaze says.
Misha’s head whips around to Blaze. “You can’t be serious… over her?” She points to me.
“Over you being a bitch. Now pack your shit.”
“No,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I could make you leave. You covered in a black bag might look good on you,” Marcus says.
Blonde bitch’s eyes grow worried, and she stands, letting the chair fall back on the floor and shouldering me as she walks past. Turning to leave, I don’t even bother saying goodbye to anyone. I walk quickly, and as I go to get into my car, before I can open the door, Marcus reaches for me and turns me around to face him.
“Was there anyone else?” I ask.
“No, only you.”
“What was the message about then? Remember, I read it on your phone.”
“Misha always sent me messages. If you had looked properly, you would have seen I never replied to any of them.”
“Have you ever slept with her?” I ask.
“Once. That was long before I met you.”
“Why can’t you have kids, Marcus?”
His hand lifts, and I watch as his muscles strain in his shirt. He looks everywhere but at me. “Will you come to my house?” he asks. “We can talk there.”
“Maybe tomorrow,” I reply while opening my car door and sliding in. He leans on the window and looks down at me.
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes, tomorrow, Marcus. You aren’t the center of my universe anymore.”
“Fair enough.” Marcus steps back, giving me room to move. “Tomorrow, pretty girl.”
I give him a simple nod and drive off.
It’s late, raining, and I’m soaked as I knock on his door. I simply couldn’t wait until tomorrow. I want answers now. I need them. At first, I don’t think he’s home, but his truck is here.
“Marcus,” I yell, my hand banging on his door.
A light flicks on, and through the window in the door I watch as he comes down the stairs with no shirt, and only a pair of gray tracksuit pants hanging from his hips.
My body starts shivering when he comes to the door. He doesn’t invite me inside, he just stares at me like he can’t believe I’m here.
To be honest, neither can I.
“I want kids,” I say to him. “Why can’t you have kids?”
“You want to talk about this now?” he asks, running a hand through his hair.
“Yes. Why?” I wrap my arms around myself as the rain pours even harder.
“Come inside.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to be in your space, I simply want to know why. Now tell me, Marcus. Tell me, so I can walk away for good if I need to.”
“You want to walk away?”
“I don’t want to, but I will. I’ve sacrificed myself enough for you, even though I know you never asked that of me. But I did. I put away my needs because I wanted to be with you.”
“I never asked you to.”
“I know, and that makes it worse,” I say, shaking my head. I’m freezing, my bottom lip is involuntarily quivering, but I’m not moving. I want my answer. “Tell. Me. Now.”
“No,” he replies.
I huff at his words and turn, walking back to my car. Before I can get there he turns me around, the rain’s running down his face.
“Let me go.” I pull away, but he makes a move for me again and I slip. When I do, I go down, pulling him on top of me so we’re both wet. I struggle to move with him on me, but he doesn’t budge. He looks down at me, and I see it then, the change in his eyes. Something is different.
“I told you about my mother. I don’t want to bring children into a world where this is what happens to them. I would never wish that on any child.”
“You think you will turn into her?”
He closes his eyes, water falling from his eyelashes. “I would never be her, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have her traits. I’m guarded like she was. I don’t like people, which is exactly like her.” He tells me how he feels.
“That doesn’t mean you will be like her.”
“I don’t want kids, Rochelle.”
A heavy sigh leaves my mouth, then I push at him. He gets up and helps me up too.
“That’s it? I don’t want kids and you walk away?”
“It’s what has to be. I would never choose to be with someone who loves the dead more than he loves the living. But here I am, telling you I love you regardless. And here you are, telling me you won’t give me what I need. What I want from life.”
“You can have a happy life with me without kids, pretty girl.”
I put my hands up while shaking my head. “But I don’t want that. I want to know what it’s like to grow a baby in my belly. I want to know what that unconditional love is like. It changed my sister, and I want the same thing. I saw what that love can do.”
“My love can do that too,” he says, his lips now in a thin line. I don’t think he’s realized what he’s just said, but I certainly took notice.
“You love me?” I ask him, confused. He knows I love him, but not once has he told me he loves me. Every time I told him, I got nothing in return.
“Yes. Do you need written confirmation?”
“Well, yes.”
Marcus reaches out and pulls me into his arms, then his hands start tearing at my clothes, and I let him.
“This doesn’t solve our problem. I can’t be with you if you don’t want the same things as me,” I say as he pulls my skirt from my body, then lifts my hands, taking off my shirt.
“I want whatever it is you want to make you happy.”
“I want kids.”
“Except that.” Then he lifts me.
“No. It will never work unless we want the same things,” I say as he walks us to his bedroom. My legs are wrapped around him as he holds me tightly to him. I can feel he’s hard beneath me, but I won’t act on it. I can’t.
“I want you. Whatever comes with that, I will learn to accept.”
“You will?”
Marcus places me on the bed and looks down at me, my hair a frizzy mess from the rain. His locks are sticking to his forehead, and he never looked so fucking good. His gray tracksuit pants are wet, revealing the outline of his hard cock, so he peels them off, standing naked in front of me. Hard and exceptional.
“As long as you are a part of the package, I think I can walk through this thing called life.”
“Really?” I ask again.
“Yes. Now will you shut up so I can kiss you?”
“Tell me you love me again.”
Marcus bends forward, his lips touching mine, and soft slow kisses begin to take over my mouth and own it as if it was always his. Pulling back, I look at him straight in the eyes. “Tell me, Marcus.”