Shaking her head, Danica touched his scar again. “Doesn’t matter to me. You don’t even have to tell me about it. I know it’s who you are now that matters. I should know.”
Orlando chuckled, burying his face in her neck. “You said you’re a bad driver, baby. I haven’t witnessed it yet, but I’m pretty sure that’s why you got pinched, not because you were too drunk to drive. Trust me. You’re an angel compared to some of the girls I hung out with back in the day.” Those piercing eyes bore into her again, and as usual, she was toast.
There was no way she could risk him finding out about this, especially after this. “I was pinched for prostitution before my DUI, Orlando. It’s why they went so hard on me.” He pulled back to look at her, so she went on quickly. “It wasn’t me. I was with my friends who lied about just stopping by to pick up some weed, but it turned out Juanita was getting hard drugs from a guy in exchange for sex, and my dumb ass went with her. I went in to look for her when she took too long and heard the struggle. I’m the one who called the cops when I heard her screaming inside the apartment. In the end, we were all hauled in on prostitution and dealing charges.” She shook her head. “I don’t want you to find this out later. I made some stupid mistakes because I loved my friends and trusted that they were good people, but I didn’t take into account how much addiction plays a part in people’s lives.”
“Dani, don’t get me started,” he said, pecking her lips. “I know all about this shit, and I was arrested a few times for trying to cover up for my brother. I get it, baby. You don’t need to explain yourself.” Danica turned when the baby moving in his crib made some noise but appeared to fall back asleep. She smiled when she saw Orlando was looking in the same direction, his expression as lovesick as hers felt when he took in his son.
He chuckled then stopped and sat up suddenly. Lifting the sheet, he glanced down at her leg. Danica watched as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Peering at him curiously and then down at her leg, she had to ask. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m almost afraid to ask. It’s why I didn’t last night.”
“Ask what?” When she glanced down again, she saw what he meant, and her heart instantly spiked. Swallowing hard, she tried not to panic. She could explain this without having to tell him the whole truth and still not be entirely lying. Because lying felt a hundred times worse now that things had changed so drastically overnight. She just prayed he didn’t pick up on what felt like such irony. “It’s from one of my favorite poems,” she said, trying to smile normally.
Orlando stared at her then bent down to get a better look. She knew it was hard to read because it was so small. But as soon as he got close enough, he’d be able to, and she braced herself. “O, remember in your narrowing dark hours,” he read out loud, “that more things move than blood in the heart.” He glanced up at her blankly. “What’s it mean?”
“People tend to forget about the importance of the bigger picture in life. So basically, this is a very poetic reminder that during the hardest times in life is when most people tend to reflect on the larger more important things they should focus on versus sweating the small stuff.”
“O?”
With her heart thudding, she nodded as indifferently as she could. Of course, he’d ask about that. While even this, she could answer truthfully, the tiny blue heart she’d since gone back and added to the three-year-old tattoo—right next to that O—made her nervous. “Old English.” She smiled. “Louise Bogan was an American poet, but she was born in the late eighteen hundreds and the usage of O instead of Oh, was still common in literature everywhere in those days.”
Orlando traced it gently with his finger. “Any particular reason you chose this passage to get inked with?” Without looking up, he added the next part. “Anyone in particular?” He still didn’t look up, and the way he was staring at the tattoo, Dani knew. This was what he meant when he said he’d been afraid to ask.
“No one in particular. But like I said I was a rebel, and during that time I kept getting into trouble over stupid stuff. I was lashing out about. When my mom died and then I had a few other low blows in my life, it really hit home.”
Finally, he looked up at her and smiled. “That’s deep.” Dani smiled and for a moment considered telling him more about how she started reading poetry. How it was during one of the hardest times in her life that she remembered the poem being analyzed for her and why it finally made complete sense to her. It hit so close to home, she decided to get that particular stanza tattooed on herself. But this time the baby moving in his crib, was followed by some babbling, and to her relief, he called out for dada not mama. Orlando was instantly sitting up, smiling big. “Right here, Little Man.”
“Dada, dada, dada.”
With that, Orlando was instantly out of the bed and on his feet. Oddly, as new as this whole situation was for them, they went about their morning as if they’d been doing things this way all along. They each took turns with Oreo as the other prepared breakfast and got ready for the day. They discussed the day ahead and even the evening. Orlando pulled Danica to him after she set the baby down on the highchair with his morning biscuit. He kissed her softly then leaned his forehead against hers. “You staying tonight again?” The question was asked with an air of caution. Danica could almost hear the otherwise veiled trepidation—see the vulnerability hover in his eyes—both things she thought she’d picked up on last night. It was as if he were as nervous about expecting too much too soon as she was. But it warmed her. It gave her hope that maybe she wasn’t getting too ahead of herself in everything she was feeling for him already.
Smiling because it felt like she needed to, she pecked him back. “I need to go get that change of clothes first. Already I’m wearing yesterday’s clothes.”
His expression eased a bit. “Go now. I don’t have to be at the shop until a little later. I’ll feed and hang out with this guy until you get back.” Kissing her again, he began to say something then seemed to catch himself, but then spoke anyway. “Maybe you bring a few changes?”
Gulping, Danica nodded, and Orlando wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck again. Bringing her arms around him, she let herself fall into and enjoy the heartfelt embrace. Was this really happening? It felt like a dream—just like when he fell right into her plan and asked her if she could watch Oreo. She’d now begin to do what she’d done then: wonder not if but when she’d be waking up from this. Their embrace was interrupted by the baby, who began to demand attention. Orlando put the music on and kept him distracted so Danica could make her exit without any drama or tears. The whole way home she drove in a daze. Her body was still coming down from the incredible high of being in Orlando’s arms, his kisses, and making love to him all night. Danica was no stranger to orgasms or even great sex. While Ted’s fastidious ways could be annoying as hell, she’d never complained about them in bed. He was as meticulous about satisfying her as he was controlling her. Though unlike with Orlando how their night of passion had been spontaneous, and he genuinely relished in every moment with her, even sex with Ted had felt calculated. Like he was making sure, for other reasons, she was thoroughly satisfied.