Chapter Twenty-Seven When Forever Feels Fragile
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When Forever Feels Fragile
When I spot Adongo in the crowd of people, my smile is immediate. “Are you married yet?” she asks, shielding her eyes from the sun.
I laugh. “As a matter of fact ...” Hart strolls up just then. “I believe you know my husband.”
“You’re back,” Adongo says, shaking his hand warmly while a smile beams across her face.
Hart weaves one arm around my waist, keeping me close, and gives her a nod. “I am.”
We flew to New York and got married at the courthouse two months after he surprised me in Nairobi. It wasn’t a lavish affair or fancy in any way, but it was everything. All I needed. He was mine, and I was his.
During our time there, we stayed in his apartment, my first time seeing his place.
If I’d been expecting a bachelor pad, it couldn’t have been further from my expectations.
Sophisticated art adorned the walls, and there were elegant finishes everywhere I looked.
A mahogany kitchen. A cozy den. A billiards room, where he liked to entertain his friends.
A massive rooftop terrace. It was comfortable but elevated, which perfectly suited him.
Staying at his place in New York gave me a true look into his life.
There was a bevy of domestic staff at his beck and call, ready to take care of anything and everything.
He owned several cars as well as vacation properties.
He woke early in the mornings, around five, while I was still asleep, worked out in his home gym with a trainer, and then brought me coffee.
It was a comfortable routine, even if it only lasted a week until we returned to Nairobi.
It opened my eyes to what life with him would look like. Our life. And it was dreamy.
And though work is currently keeping us busy, we’re planning a wedding reception for all our friends and family for later this year. It almost killed our parents that we’d decided to elope, so this was a happy compromise.
With all that’s been happening and the pace that it’s been moving, we decided to get an apartment in Nairobi, somewhere comfortable that’s ours, knowing that we’ll probably be here, in country, for about a year to ensure everything is running smoothly with the school.
It’s too important to me to just hope all continues on this trajectory.
I’ve worked too hard and sacrificed too much to ride off into the sunset now.
Adongo’s smile as she takes us in is genuine. “I knew, you know. The first time I met you,” she tells Hart. “I knew you would end up here.”
Adongo’s prophetic words aside, there were signs.
Each time I prayed about needing direction for my life .
.. I didn’t want to see that God kept placing Hart in my path.
Didn’t want to believe that he was my future.
I discounted him, and my own feelings. Refusing to see what I felt couldn’t possibly make sense.
Even when Scarlet pleaded with me during a phone call— He’s the love of your life. They only happen to us once. Go be with him —I told her all the reasons we couldn’t possibly work. I’m so glad I was wrong.
“Pregnant yet?” Adongo asks next.
Hart’s grip on my waist tightens protectively.
It’s a sore subject right now. I shake my head, thankful for the dark sunglasses shielding my eyes, and the emotions her question has stirred up.
“Soon then,” she says knowingly.
A stinging ache burns inside me.
If only she could be right about this too. I’ve seen all the best specialists and am taking all the prescribed vitamins and drugs. Hart, of course, has been very sweet and supportive.
Just last night, he held me in bed while my tears dampened his chest.
“Maybe you’re too stressed with work. Maybe you should take a break,” he said calmly.
“I can’t take a break,” I whined.
He gathered me close, making me feel safe, sheltered, and pressed his lips to my temple. “I know, but I wouldn’t be a good husband if I didn’t at least suggest it.”
“You are an incredible husband.”
And he really is. Strong when I need him to be, but also able to stay on the periphery when I need some space.
I’ve been on my own for so long that living with a man has been an adjustment.
He’s risen to the occasion beautifully, working alongside me in Nairobi to start an extension of the programming courses he’s still sponsoring in New York, Chicago, Houston, and now St. Louis.
I’m not foolish enough to believe our love or his wealth could shield us from the growing pains of life ... of being newlyweds in a foreign country, or navigating fertility struggles, or how things would go introducing our families, but I know we are both up to the challenge.
But we also haven’t fully faced the real world together yet—our parents, friends—and haven’t determined where we’ll live once we move back to the States.
I vacillate between worrying it’s a ticking time bomb ready to go off, to believing everyone will be as accepting of me and him as Scarlet has been.
Most nights he silences these lingering doubts by cooking for me, making love to me, and holding me until my worries are nothing more than a barely audible whisper, which works for the most part.