Chapter 5
My back was turned, yet I could feel my father’s eyes on me as I stared out the kitchen window, lost in my thoughts.
“Son,” he called out, breaking the silence and drawing my attention.
I turned and met his gaze across the table. “Yeah, Pop?”
“What’s on your mind?” His cocoa-colored eyes narrowed behind his glasses, studying me like he could see through the fake front I was trying to put up.
I walked over to the table and took my seat. “Nothing in particular,” I lied, trying to sound casual. But the truth was, there was someone particular on my mind—Essence. She had been there all night, taking up space in my head, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake her.
I wasn’t sure how I had lived the last two years without grazing my mouth against her silky skin. I could still feel her arms wrapped around me, her fingers in my hair, her body molded to mine. I could hear her gasps and sighs or groans and moans as I licked her eager flesh. Dear Lawd! I had tortured myself with those memories all night at the possibility of making love to her again. In the car, on her table, in her bed, I didn’t care where as long as I was deep inside of her wet center.
“What are you planning to do today?” Pop’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts, snapping my mind back to the kitchen.
I shifted in my chair, trying to shake off the weight of everything swirling in my mind. “I’m thinking about knocking out some Christmas shopping this morning.” I got up and grabbed the gallon of milk from the fridge, trying to focus on something simple.
Pop folded his newspaper in half and set it down, giving me a look filled with curiosity and something else I couldn’t quite place. “Mind if I join you?”
That caught me off guard. I couldn’t help but smile, genuinely happy at the idea. “I’d love that, Pop.”
I reached for the cereal box and forced my mind away from Essence. I glanced up at my father and noticed how much he’d aged in the two years I’d been gone. His hair was gray now, and the fine lines around his eyes and mouth told a story that hit harder than I had expected. I hadn’t realized how much time had passed until I saw it etched on his face.
“When do I finally get to meet my grandson?” he asked, his voice lighting up with excitement like a kid ready to open presents on Christmas morning.
“I’ll talk to Essence and see if I can bring him over soon. I don’t think she’ll mind,” I said, imagining how much my parents would love Tyler.
“Good,” Pop said, that same kid-on-Christmas look spreading across his face. “I can’t wait.”
I knew how much becoming grandparents meant to my folks. My sister Calaine had already given them their first grandchild, little Dominique, and now it was my turn. Returning to the East Coast was the right move. My parents weren’t getting any younger, and I wasn’t about to pretend they’d be around forever. That’s one of the main reasons I’d requested Ft. Meade as my next duty station. That way, while trying to convince Essence to marry me, I’d be close enough to see my parents and spend time with my son.
I looked toward the door as my mother entered the kitchen, her energy always filling the room.
“Good morning,” she greeted us, bright and cheerful like usual.
Dressed in her purple sweatsuit, fresh from her morning treadmill routine in the basement, she looked as healthy as ever. She always credited her good health to regular exercise and a balanced diet.
“Morning, Mama,” I mumbled through a mouthful of cereal.
She kissed both of us on the cheek, then made a beeline for the fridge to grab her usual cup of yogurt. “What would you boys like for breakfast this morning?”
“Nothing for me,” Pop replied, shaking his head.
“I’m good. Cereal’s fine,” I said, though I could see she wasn’t thrilled with that answer.
Yogurt in hand, she sat across from me, a slight frown on her face, but still managing to smile. My father just grinned—he knew her better than anyone.
“So, have you asked Essence to marry you yet?” she asked, wasting no time as she spooned into her yogurt.
I should’ve known better than to have brought it up yesterday at breakfast. I paused, swallowing hard before answering. “I did, and she turned me down.”
She waved it off like it was no big deal. “Well, what did you expect? You’ve been gone for two years without a word. Did you really think she was sitting around waiting for you to come back?”
“No, but I didn’t think she’d be this stubborn either,” I said, frustrated, mostly with myself for not seeing it coming.
“Give her time. She’ll come around,” Mama said, confident as always.
“Your mother’s right,” Pops chimed in, his voice steady and reassuring like it always was. “Love takes time.”
I frowned, the frustration boiling up again. What is it with everyone’s obsession with love?
* * *
I pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine, feeling a deep sense of relief. It’s good to be home, I thought as I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the car door. A gust of cold air greeted me, sending a shiver down my spine, a clear sign that snow was on its way, promising a white Christmas. Eager to escape the chill, I quickly made my way to the front door, already picturing the warmth of the fireplace. I was looking forward to a quiet evening with Tyler—cooking a light dinner and then playing together until it was time for his bath.
What if Mark drops by?
Mentally, I didn’t think I could handle being in his company three evenings in a row. Emotionally, I felt overwhelmed. I’d had a difficult enough time recovering from our last brief encounter. When he had pulled me into his arms, lowering his lips to mine and caressing my mouth, I had felt myself weakening—almost believing we might have a chance of making it together. I had come so close to reconsidering and accepting his proposal of marriage. But at that moment, I had to fight my own personal battle of physical restraint. I reminded myself that the last time I allowed myself to believe in fairytales, the following heartache was almost more than I could endure. Thank goodness my parents didn’t raise a dummy , I thought as I stuck my key in the door.
I had barely stepped through the front door when the mouthwatering aroma from the kitchen hit me like a warm hug. Yes, I thought, a smile spreading across my face. Tyler’s babysitter had come through once again. Liz had a way of surprising me with her authentic Puerto Rican dishes, recipes passed down through generations.
I hung up my coat in the closet as my stomach growled, reminding me that the tuna sandwich I’d had for lunch was long gone. “Liz, whatever you’re making smells heavenly,” I called out as I went to the kitchen.
“I agree,” came her voice, but something in her tone made me pause. “Unfortunately, I didn’t make it.”
Rounding the corner, I froze. “Mark.”
There he was, standing at the stove like he owned the place. He glanced over his shoulder and gave me that signature wink. “Welcome home, baby.”
I tried to ignore the way his smile made my pulse race. “What are you doing here?”
“Just showing off my culinary skills,” he said casually, turning back to stir whatever was in the pan. He looked way too comfortable in my space. My eyes darted over to Liz, searching for answers.
“How was your day, dear?” Liz asked, her voice laced with concern as she looked at me like a mother would.
I sighed, trying to shake off the confusion. “I spent most of the day making Christmas ornaments with my students, then the other half was all about prepping for the Christmas assembly.” I walked around the small kitchen table, crouched, and kissed Tyler. He was in his highchair, babbling while Liz fed him dinner. Meanwhile, Mark was over at the stove, casually adding black pepper to the pan like he did this every day. I raised an eyebrow. Was this really happening?
“Mark, you didn’t mention you were coming over,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.
Liz quickly glanced between Mark and me, clearly sensing the tension. “I guess I’m partly to blame. Mark stopped by and introduced himself. I didn’t see any harm in letting him in.” She shrugged like it was no big deal. “You did say this morning that Tyler’s father was home for the holidays. Naturally, he’d want to spend time with his son.”
I rolled my eyes, feeling my frustration build. For all she knew, he could have been a stalker . “No problem, Liz. I’m sure Mark charmed his way inside.”
Mark chuckled, leaning back against the counter, looking as relaxed as ever. “Not hardly. Liz made sure I knew the rules before she let me in.”
“I most certainly did,” Liz said, laughing with him. “But he is Tyler’s father. I won’t deny a man the right to see his child.”
I let out a sarcastic snort. “He’s Tyler’s father, yes. But this is my home, Mark.”
“And my son’s home too.”
“But I didn’t invite you here,” I countered, my voice edged with irritation.
“No, but my son did. Isn’t that right, Tyler?” Mark asked, leaning down to be at eye level. Tyler grabbed Mark’s face with his tiny hands, smearing peas across his cheeks.
Seeing Mark’s expression, I couldn’t help but laugh. Liz wiped Tyler’s hands, her chuckles joining mine.
I ruffled Tyler’s hair, still smiling. “Good job, sweetheart.”
Mark laughed, too, a deep, warm sound that sent a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me. Then, with that incredibly sexy grin, he turned back to the stove, reaching for an oven mitt to pull out a batch of perfectly golden-brown garlic knots.
I watched him for a moment, feeling torn between comfort and unease. Seeing Mark in my kitchen, moving around like he belonged there, had me mixed up. It was like he fit right into this part of my life, and I wasn’t sure if that warmed my heart or made me nervous.
“All gone, sweetheart,” Liz said as she fed Tyler the last spoonful of roasted chicken. She sighed and rose, pushing the chair back under the table. “You both have a great evening,” she added.
“No!” I blurted out too quickly, but I wasn’t ready for her to leave yet. I tried again, more calmly. “Liz, you don’t have to rush off.”
“Oh, yes, I do,” Liz replied with a knowing smile. She walked over to the counter where Mark had prepared a round pan covered in aluminum foil for her to take home. “Thanks for dinner, Mark.”
“Anytime,” Mark said with a wink.
I caught the sly glint in Liz’s eyes and rolled mine in return. The look they exchanged told me they were in cahoots. Liz had been trying to set me up with one relative or another for ages, and now here she was, playing matchmaker with Mark.
“Are you trying to impress me?” I asked Mark after Liz left.
Mark gave me that confident grin as he placed the bread on a plate. “Maybe. But we could make this a regular thing, you know.”
I raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to take him seriously. “Cooking dinner?”
He smiled, the kind of smile that always made my heart dance. “Spending time together as a family.”
For a second, I let myself imagine it—Mark here, not just for dinner, but for everything. And for the first time, I wasn’t sure if that thought scared or excited me.
Our eyes met, and the air between us heated up, but it wasn’t just the stove that had me feeling some type of way.
“If cooking is what it takes to get you to relax around me, then…” Mark’s voice trailed off, leaving the rest of his sentence to my imagination.
“I am relaxed,” I snapped, knowing it was a lie.
“No, you’re not,” Mark said as he approached me. Before I could step back, he slipped his hands into my hair, gently massaging my scalp. “You’re beautiful when you’re mad.”
I stood there, stiff as a board, trying to fight the rush of heat his touch sent through me. “Don’t.”
He chuckled softly. “You’re supposed to say thank you when someone compliments you.”
“You’re supposed to leave me alone. There will be no repeat of last night,” I said, trying to regain control of the situation. “You came to spend time with Tyler.”
He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “We can talk about us after dinner.”
I took a step back, needing to put some distance between us. “There is no ‘us.’ You’re here for Tyler and Tyler only.”
Mark crossed his arms over his chest, angling his head as he studied me with that stubborn determination. “Are you daring me?”
“I’m setting boundaries,” I shot back.
“Boundaries are made to be broken,” he said, his voice low and steady.
I shook my head, trying to stay strong. “Not this one. I already have a great relationship with a great guy.”
Mark chuckled again, that confident, irritating laugh that got under my skin. “That dude is just a cop-out, Essence. Another excuse for you to hide from how you really feel.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to keep my composure. “You’ve never even met him. How would you know?”
“I don’t need to,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine with a piercing intensity. “Your kiss told me everything.”
I glared at him, wishing I could lie and say I was in love with Malcolm. Maybe then Mark would back off. But I’ve never been good at lying. “My love life is none of your business. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'm looking forward to a quiet evening alone.”
I kicked off my heels and left them under the kitchen table, turning my back on Mark, hoping he’d get the hint and leave. But as I walked away, I could still feel his gaze on me, knowing this conversation was far from over.
I went over to Tyler, lifting him out of his highchair and cuddling him close. “Your daddy thinks he can just show up whenever he wants. Well, he can’t,” I mumbled, even though I knew Mark was still standing there.
Mark moved away from the stove, wiping his hands on a towel. “I’m on leave, Essence. I have nothing to do all day while Tyler is here with a babysitter. What’s wrong with me getting to know my son? I can already tell he likes being around his daddy.”
“Da Da.”
I gasped. “Oh my God! He called you Daddy!”
Mark’s expression softened, and I could see the emotions flickering across his face. It was the same feeling I had the first time Tyler called me Mama.
This was his moment, and I couldn’t take that away from him. “You’re right. Tyler likes spending time with his daddy.”
“Da Da.”
Mark closed his eyes and let out a long, shaky breath. He stepped forward, kissed our son on the forehead, and whispered, “Thanks, Champ.”
Our eyes met, and we grinned at each other like fools before I managed to tear my gaze away. I sat at the table with Tyler while Mark returned to the stove, chopping vegetables for a salad. He looked so at ease in the kitchen, and I couldn’t help but notice. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said without turning around. He reached for a pot on the stove and poured steaming hot pasta into a strainer. “My mama insisted I learn how to cook in grade school.”
“Really?” I said, reaching down to grab a carrot stick. I handed Tyler a piece of tomato.
“Yep,” he continued. “Tuesdays were my night to cook. I’d spend hours thumbing through cookbooks, planning a meal. Then, I had to make a grocery list and shop with my mother for all the ingredients. Every week, I tried to outdo Kelly.”
“That sounds like a lot of fun.”
“And a lot of work.” He paused, smiling at the memory. “But it paid off. Now, I like to show off whenever I get the chance.”
“Well, I’ve never been any good at cooking.”
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten,” he said, his eyes sparkling with a teasing light.
I groaned, remembering when I tried to impress him in the kitchen. Mark had shown up just as the fire truck was leaving. “I can honestly say I tried,” I giggled.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I moved to the other side of the counter. Mark was stirring a red sauce that smelled divine. While he wasn’t looking, I snatched a piece of fried catfish draining on a paper towel. Popping a chunk into my mouth, I moaned, “Oh, man.”
“Good?” he asked with a quick glance.
“Incredible. Fish is my favorite.”
“I know.”
I paused, surprised. Was there anything he hadn’t forgotten?
He forgot about you , a small voice inside me whispered.
“Why don’t you go change into something more comfortable,” Mark suggested, moving around the kitchen like he’d always belonged there. He had pushed his way back into my life and home and made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere. That made me feel… conflicted.
“Go on, Essence.” He turned and looked my way, his tone gentle but firm.
I sighed. Right now, I was too tired and hungry to argue. If Mark wanted to cook, let him.
* * *
I watched Essence leave the room, and a low moan slipped from my lips as my eyes stayed glued to the sway of her perfectly round ass. Everything about her teased me—from her full, tempting breasts to those long, shapely legs that had always driven me crazy. I was glad she stepped out when she did because if I had turned around, the way my body was reacting would've been way too obvious.
I knew she wouldn’t be thrilled about finding me in her house unannounced, but I figured a brotha could win some points by cooking dinner. I wasn’t about to let her bite my head off without a fight. Essence was stubborn, and part of me was tempted to remind her who called the shots. But if I’m being real, that fiery attitude drew me to her in the first place.
I pulled two plates from the cabinet, scooped the pasta onto them, and spooned on the rich, savory sauce I’d perfected. I knew I was playing a game but wasn’t backing down. I told myself it was all about spending time with Tyler, my son. I’d missed so much already and needed to make up for lost time. But deep down? It wasn’t just about Tyler. There was this pull, this need, to make Essence mine. And that feeling had been gnawing at me ever since I stepped back into her life.
Two years without a woman would make any man feel some type of way. But this wasn’t just about needing someone in my bed. It was more than that. She was more than that.
As I tossed the salad, my thoughts drifted back to her, and it pissed me off that she was taking up so much space in my head. Being around Essence was intense. She had this way of making me second-guess everything, and I didn’t like that. Not one bit. I wasn’t the type to get wrapped up in feelings, but with Essence, it was only a matter of time before I had to decide. And what I wanted, more than anything, was her. But it had to be on my terms.
A few minutes later, I heard footsteps coming down the hall. I shook off the thoughts and carried the plates to the table, trying to focus on anything but the storm of emotions swirling in my head. Essence stepped into the kitchen, Tyler on her hip, and just like that, everything else faded.
“Everything looks great,” she said, her voice soft but steady.
“Thanks.”
She moved toward the fridge, and even in those black yoga pants and that simple gray long-sleeve, she looked like a damn snack. The kind you’d savor slowly. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and there was something about how natural she looked—young, vibrant, real. Tyler was getting sleepy, his head resting comfortably on her shoulder.
Essence prepared Tyler’s bottle, and the tenderness in her movements hit me in a way I wasn’t prepared for. There was pride in seeing her as a mother and handling things, but I also regret knowing I hadn’t been there like I should have.
“You hungry?” I asked, watching as she handed Tyler his bottle, his little hands gripping it tight.
She nodded. “Yeah, but I’ll feed him first.”
“Nah, let me take him,” I said, holding out my arms.
She hesitated. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Later,” I replied, taking my son from her and feeling his weight in my arms. “Now, sit down before you insult the chef.”
Tyler nestled into me with a soft, contented sigh, and I couldn’t help but smile. We both sat down, and while I held our son, I nodded toward the food. “Go ahead and eat before it gets cold.”
Essence picked up her fork, twirling the pasta before taking a bite. “Oh, Mark,” she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. “This is amazing.”
I shifted in my seat, clearing my throat. She had no idea what that sound did to me.
Tyler, meanwhile, lifted his head, staring up at me with those wide, innocent eyes. He studied me, trying to figure out who I was and why I was there. I grinned, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He let out a little yawn and settled back against my chest, and in that moment, I felt something deep. A primal need to protect this little boy, to be everything he needed.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Essence asked, pulling me back to the present. “I can fix you a plate. You can eat with one hand.”
“In a few minutes,” I said, my voice softer than usual. “Right now, I’m just enjoying being with my son.”
Essence’s grin widened, her eyes softening. “He’s growing on you, huh?”
I looked down at Tyler, feeling a lump in my throat. “I never imagined I could fall in love so fast.”
Our eyes met across the table, and in that instant, everything shifted. This wasn’t just about making up for lost time or stepping into the role of a father. It was about something deeper, more real than I’d been willing to admit.
And it wasn’t just about Tyler. It was about Essence, too.
* * *
I brought another forkful of pasta to my lips, savoring the flavor while watching Mark shift Tyler comfortably in the crook of his arm. Tyler opened his eyes briefly, then, feeling safe, closed them again. The bond between father and son had already been forged—a bond I knew I could never come between. I swallowed, feeling the weight of my thoughts. Maybe I was making a huge mistake by turning down Mark’s proposal. I wanted love, but did I really want to risk depriving my son of being raised by his father full-time?
“Tell me about your students, Ms. Monroe,” Mark said, pulling me out of my head. I was grateful for the distraction.
When I looked up, I saw genuine interest in his gaze.
Propping my elbow on the table, I rested my chin in my hand and smiled. “Well... I’m still teaching third grade, even though I’m with a different school district now. This year, I have a unique bunch.”
“How so?”
“I have two sets of identical twins.”
“Two?” Mark’s eyebrows shot up.
I nodded and giggled. “Yep, Donnell and Ronnell, and Gretchen and Gertrude. The boys are easier to tell apart because Donnell is shorter than his brother. But the girls? They’re almost impossible to distinguish unless they’re standing right next to each other,” I explained between bites. “Both are blonde with blue eyes and speak with a slight lisp. Thank goodness Gretchen has a small gap between her front teeth; it’s the only way I can tell them apart.”
Mark’s lips twisted in amusement. “I thought schools usually separate twins.”
“They do, but their mother insisted on keeping them together. Apparently, they were separated after birth due to a bitter divorce. The judge gave each parent custody of one child.”
Mark’s brow furrowed in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
I shook my head. “Nope. The father even moved to another country to keep his ex-wife from ever seeing Gretchen again. Last year, he was in a fatal car accident. The girls were reunited soon after.”
“That’s wild.”
“It really is,” I said, sipping my now watered-down iced tea.
“Despite the tragedy, I’m sure the family is relieved. I can’t imagine keeping a child away from their mother or father like that.”
Mark’s frown deepened, and I studied his face, hoping he understood that I hadn’t intentionally kept Tyler from him. That was never my intention.
Mark finally agreed to let me fix him a plate, and we talked about my job while we ate. Tyler drifted to sleep in his father’s arms within half an hour.
“Can I ask you something?” I began, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Sure.”
“What would you have done if you’d known I was pregnant?”
“I would have come home and married you.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s sweet, but I still wouldn’t have married you.”
Mark’s confidence didn’t waver. “I’d have convinced you.”
“It wouldn’t have worked,” I said, giving him a half-smile. “It’s not about you; it’s about what I want.”
“So, what will it take to convince you I’m serious about marrying you?”
“Love,” I said quietly. “I’m not settling for anything less.”
Mark grew quiet, giving me a long, hard look before saying, “I can’t understand how you’d put love before our son’s well-being.”
“You don’t have to understand it,” I replied with a shrug. “But I’m not about to enter into a loveless marriage.”
“Do you admit we’re good together?” he asked, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.
“We were good together,” I clarified, emphasizing the past tense. “No doubt about our chemistry, but I need more than that. Now, can you pass me the pepper?” I made it clear I was done with the conversation, but Mark wasn’t ready to drop it.
“People throw around the word ‘love’ too much. Don’t you see? Folks get married for love every day, and most of the time, it doesn’t last.” His tone was tinged with cynicism.
“True, but love is the foundation. Without it, what’s left?”
“A mutual commitment to raising our child.” When I didn’t respond, he added, “I know it would work if you gave us a chance,” he said, his voice tinged with hope. “My son needs me in his life.”
“I agree. Tyler does need you, but I don’t.”
Mark leaned back in his chair, looking defeated. “You sure know how to hit a brotha where it hurts.”
I offered a slight smirk. “Just keeping it real.”
Tyler began to fuss, and Mark stood up, cradling him gently. “Finish eating. I’ll put him down,” he said when I tried to reach for him. I watched Mark leave the room, mixed emotions swirling inside me.