25. Waiting to Exhale
Waiting to Exhale
Victoria
My feet padded down the spiral staircase that led to the wine cellar. I was immediately hit with various scents, notably berry, citrus, alcohol, and wood. Knox’s wine cellar, along with the rest of the mansion, was insane. Hundreds of bottles tucked into wooden slots spanned the basement.
He boasted that all the wine was imported straight from Italy and proceeded to tell me about the best regions for wine, the types of grapes grown, and the ideal time to harvest. His spiel was a little long-winded for my taste, but I nodded, smiled, and responded positively as a supportive wife would.
Oh, word?
That’s wild.
It gets him every time.
I randomly selected a bottle of Pinot Grigio and climbed the steps to the main level.
Upon arriving, I paused to soak it all in again.
Knox’s home was perfect. It was a Tudor revival on nearly 1.
5 acres that blended impeccably with old-world charm and modern amenities.
It was more than spacious, with nine bedrooms, seven baths, an informal and formal living room, a dining room, an entertainment room, and a movie theater.
The chef’s kitchen was nothing I’d ever seen before.
It showcased two top-of-the-line ovens, a six-burner gas range, a wine refrigerator, a commercial-sized stainless-steel refrigerator, an incredible 14-foot preparation island, and a dine-in nook overlooking a well-maintained garden.
Our primary en suite bedroom had not one but two of the home’s eight fireplaces, generous double walk-in closets, dual vanities, a glass-enclosed rainfall shower, and a decadent soaking tub that I wanted to live in.
The grounds were beautifully landscaped, which included a shimmering 48-foot pool with a beach entrance, a hot tub, and a full cabana bath. There was also an extensively covered outdoor kitchen, a gas fire pit, a private meditation garden, and a full basketball court.
Knox needs to hurry up and heal so I can break his ankles. He’ll go from a cane to a walker real quick!
Lastly, the two-bedroom guest house for my mother was perfection.
Having my mom just steps away made everything feel lighter.
I didn’t have to worry if she was okay or if the staff at the facility was paying attention.
She was receiving the best care from nurses who actually knew her name and what she needed.
I could check on her anytime, sit with her, talk to her—even if she didn’t remember who I was.
Knox didn’t just move her here. He made sure she was safe, comfortable, and treated with dignity. That kind of effort said everything.
You can’t convince me this man doesn’t love me.
Knox glanced up briefly from the dough he kneaded at the kitchen island.
“I wasn’t aware that my dress shirts were on your side of the closet,” he commented before returning his attention to the pizza dough.
This man has a lot of nerve. I’m not going to let it slide.
“Oh, my God. I love wearing your dress shirt so much. It’s so big and comfortable.
I can let my lady bits breathe!” I exclaimed, reminding him of how he described the feeling of wearing my caftan.
He smirked, rolling the dough into a ball before depositing it into a glass bowl.
He placed a moist towel over the bowl before accepting the wine from me and sliding it into the cooler.
“I never knew you were such a spiteful woman.”
“Spiteful, or am I just giving you a taste of your own medicine?”
He ignored my statement and reached for the bottle of wine. “Good choice. It’ll pair nicely with the Margherita pizza.”
“I’m shocked we’re not having meat lovers pizza or something,” I said, sliding onto a stool.
“As much as I bitch and moan about wanting a steak, I would rather not spend the next two days on the toilet.”
“Amen,” I mumbled. “Also, don’t forget we have to do your wound care tonight.”
“ We don’t have to do anything. I can do it myself,” he protested.
“I won’t fight you, Gio, but I’m leaving you if your leg falls off. My ride-or-die days are over.”
He snorted, “Says the woman who paddled miles out to sea on a whim to save my life.”
“It wasn’t a whim. I told you that God spoke to me.”
“Now, if you would only listen to me like you listen to him, then we’d get along beautifully.”
I smiled genuinely. “I have two words for you, Gio. Coconut crab.”
He barked out a laugh and limped to a drawer where he retrieved a rolling pin. “If you think about it, we might not have been found had I not disobeyed your orders.”
I’ll let him have that.
“Can I have your opinion on something, Gio?”
The pleased look on his face tickled me. He loved being needed by me, and I loved needing him.
“How can I be of assistance?”
“I want to do something special for my friends for holding it down while I was gone. What should I do?”
Knox snorted and mumbled under his breath.
“Spending over $100,000 on your friends wasn’t enough?”
“Oh, wow. I didn’t know I was dealing with a brokie,” I teased.
“Cut your bullshit, woman.
“I will as soon as you give me an idea. I need to show my appreciation more.”
He tilted his head to the side as he contemplated and dusted the rolling pin with flour.
“You should redo your Miami trip and go all out. I’ll charter a jet, and the Knox Make-a-Wish Foundation will cover all expenses.”
“Are you serious?”
“As serious as a snake bite,” he replied with a charming smile.
“And you’re not gonna follow me?”
“No.”
“And you’re not gonna blow up my phone every time I turn around?”
“No.”
“And you’re not trying to get rid of me so you can work like a dog when I’m gone?”
“No, of course not,” he answered with that stupid chuckle he does when he’s lying.
“You are.”
“I’m not. I just want you to have a nice week-long vacation in Miami with your gal pals. You can drink, party, and twerk on tabletops in style.”
“I’m a spiritually married woman. I don’t twerk on tables any longer.”
He laughed warmly. “That was a test, and you passed. Get with your friends, pick a date, and I’ll make all the arrangements.”
I considered his offer.
A bougie week in Miami with my girls sounds fun as hell, but I don’t know if I want to be away from Knox that long.
Fuck it. I don’t know if I can be away from him that long.
The thought of him even going to the office without me drives me up the wall.
Ya girl might have a little separation anxiety.
“I’ll see,” I said noncommittally.
“Good. The dough is proved.”
“Already?”
“I used fast-rising yeast, and now that you’re unofficially officially part of the family, I can let you in on all my pizza-making secrets.”
* * *
“That’s right, Bernadine! Tell him! Get your shit and get out!
” Knox yelled at the projector screen, pointing at the door.
I side-eyed him and found the man sitting on the edge of his seat as Angela Bassett tore her trifling-ass husband’s closet down.
He glanced at me before returning his attention to the screen.
“Can you believe that asshole? How can he do that to her after everything she’s done? Fill the wagon up, Bernie!”
I smiled.
“Did you know that this scene was improvised?”
“Really?” he questioned, not taking his eyes off the screen.
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s fucking impressive. I know she won an Oscar for this scene alone.”
“Nope!”
He paused the movie and turned in his seat to face me. “Don’t piss me off, Victoria.”
I shrugged with my palms up. “She didn’t win an Oscar; however, she did win the NAACP Award for Best Lead Actress in a Motion Picture.”
“Fucking bullshit,” he muttered. I nearly dropped my slice of pizza when he jumped and yelled, “That’s right! Burn…his…shit!”
“All right. I think that’s enough culture for you tonight. Let’s go to bed.”
“But we’re not finished.”
“It’s late. We can finish it tomorrow,” I said, gathering our plates and glasses. Reluctantly, he followed me out of the theater and left to shower while I loaded the dishwasher. Once I finished, I had finally gotten around to sending a much-needed message to my sisters.
659-8774, 961-2130: I’m back, and we need to talk.
* * *
I breezed into our bedroom and was hit with the warm scent of Knox’s body wash wafting from the en suite bathroom. It was a far cry from seawater, sweat, and unavoidable body odor.
“Take it easy on the pillows,” he teased, limping out of the bathroom. I ignored him and launched another pillow across the room.
“All these damn pillows are annoying,” I replied sleepily.
“I get it. I’m the only pillow you need,” he said, helping me turn down the comforter.
And he’s right.
“Sure. Did you take care of your wound?”
“I did, and you can stop asking me. Trust me, no one is more invested in keeping my leg than I am.”
Oop! Well, shut my mouth!
“You’re right, Gio.”
“That’s it? You’re right, Gio?”
“What did you expect?” I asked, chucking the last pillow.
He snorted. “Well, I don’t know, something snarky and threatening, I guess.”
“I’m a changed wom—ohhhh, shit.”
Knox stood there looking proud of himself. “Good, huh?”
“This has to be the best damn mattress I’ve ever slept on,” I admitted. I giggled a little when Knox joined me. His pleasured groans were louder than mine.
“Damn…it’s been too long.”
“It sure as hell beats sleeping on the ground,” I murmured. My head had barely hit the pillow, and I was already passing out. A chaste kiss pressed to my lips startled me back to consciousness. I returned Knox’s affection before wishing him a good night.
I woke up several minutes later and was confused when Waiting to Exhale was playing on the TV.
“You know what?” I mumbled, pulling myself up. “I’m not marrying you.”
“Why not?” he gasped.
“You’ve just proven you’re disloyal and can’t be trusted. You’re one of those people who watches TV shows with your significant other and secretly watches ahead. Those are the most selfish people ever to exist.”
“That’s different. You’ve already seen this.”
“It’s not different,” I said, taking the remote from him. I changed it to YouTube, selected a white noise station that would play ocean sounds, and tossed the remote into my nightstand drawer.
I settled down when Knox entangled his limbs with mine and was nearly asleep when he asked me, “So, who makes the better pizza? Me or Vince?”