Chapter 7
Two years earlier…
"Is something wrong?" I asked, keeping my voice calm, though my heart was doing somersaults in my chest. I’d noticed throughout dinner that Mark had gotten quieter, his usual smooth, easy-going vibe replaced with something heavier, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
He’d taken me to one of the fanciest spots on the Baltimore Harbor for the weekend. He told me to dress up and wear my best. The evening felt like it had a purpose, like something big was brewing underneath the surface. He was holding something back, and I’d been waiting all through dinner, the anticipation clawing at me, making it hard to even enjoy the meal. My imagination was running wild. Whatever it was, he was about to say it, and I was ready to hear it.
As if he could feel the tension building between us, Mark reached across the table, his strong hands wrapping around mine. His touch was warm and familiar, but the weight behind it made me feel like something was slipping away. He finally lifted his head, his golden-brown eyes locking onto mine. “There’s a plane leaving Dover Air Force Base in the morning. I’ve got orders to be on it.”
My heart dropped. “What? B-but I thought you had until the end of the week?”
He shook his head, his jaw tight. “I thought so, too, but things changed. I got orders this afternoon.”
I dropped my gaze, trying to hide the tears welling up in my eyes. I didn’t want him to see me break. But Mark, being Mark, gently tilted my chin up with his hand, forcing me to look at him. His touch was tender, but I could feel the firmness in his fingers as if he needed me to stay grounded in this moment.
“Hey…” he said, flashing me that smile of his—wide and reassuring—but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We still have tonight.”
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to smile back, but the pain in my chest was impossible to ignore. It felt like the floor had dropped out from under me, and I was free-falling, trying to grab onto something to stop the ache.
The waitress appeared out of nowhere, placing two slices of strawberry cheesecake on the table like nothing was wrong. It felt so out of place, like a bad joke in the middle of a funeral. I picked up my fork and stabbed into the dessert, taking a big bite to fill the silence. I wasn’t even hungry, but the quiet was suffocating.
Mark noticed the shift, too. He lowered his fork, leaned forward, and studied my face like he was trying to figure out what I was thinking. “Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean we can’t remain friends.”
My breath caught, and I hesitated, my voice barely a whisper. “Is that all I am to you?”
Mark leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his face. He sighed deeply before speaking. “Essence, I’ve been as honest as I can be. I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m always on the move, always going to the next mission. The military doesn’t leave room for staying in one place or…for anyone.”
I nodded, swallowing back the lump in my throat, even though it felt like I was swallowing shards of glass. I wanted to scream, to cry, to make him understand what this was doing to me, but instead, I kept my face calm, refusing to let him see me fall apart. “You don’t have to explain. I get it. Long-distance relationships… they don’t work.”
He gave me a smile, but there was regret in his eyes, regret I couldn’t ignore. He extended his hand across the table again. “Friends?”
For a second, I just stared at his hand. That simple gesture felt final and empty, carrying the weight of everything I feared losing. Finally, I reached out and took it, forcing myself to grip it like I was okay with this. But inside, my heart was screaming. I felt hollow, like I was playing a part in some scene I had never auditioned for, but here I was, trapped in it.
“Friends,” I repeated, though deep down, every part of me wanted something more.
The doorbell chiming from the app on my cell phone jolted me awake. The bedroom was still dark, and the clock on my nightstand read 5:30 a.m. Who in the world would be at my door this early?
Groggily, I slipped into my robe, tying the belt tightly around my waist as I approached the front door. Peering through the peephole, I saw Mark standing there. Why am I not surprised? The military does more before eight a.m. than most people do all day. I unlocked the door and cracked it open, blinking away the remnants of sleep. “Mark.”
“Good morning. I hope I didn’t wake Tyler,” he said, his voice calm, almost too casual for the time of day.
What about waking me? I thought but bit my tongue. “No, although he’ll be up soon. Why are you here?”
“Did you forget I was coming to spend the day with Tyler?”
When Mark said he’d be by in the morning, I didn’t think he meant this early. I was pretty sure I made it clear he should come after I’d left for work. “I said to come over when Liz is here.”
“You’re setting limitations. Besides... Liz isn’t coming.” He gently pushed on the door, and I stepped back, letting him in.
“Isn’t coming?” I repeated, my voice rising in disbelief. “Why not?”
He shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on the rack like he lived here. “Because I gave her the holiday off.”
The audacity. “How could you do that?”
“I told you I planned to spend time with my son, and I meant it.”
I shook my head, trying to process his boldness. “You had no right.”
“Yes, I do. I paid Liz and gave her a nice Christmas bonus,” he said, all calm, as if he hadn’t just flipped my morning upside down.
“I can’t believe you.”
Mark just shrugged, unfazed. “Liz wanted to spend the holiday with her daughter, and since I have nothing else to do for the next couple of weeks, I told her to go.”
“She never mentioned wanting to visit her daughter.” Liz’s daughter lived in Denver—hardly a short trip.
“She didn’t want to leave you hanging with Tyler. But I’m here now so she can enjoy her holiday.”
I frowned. Liz and Mark were clearly in cahoots, and I didn’t like it one bit. But it was too late to argue now. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice.”
“Nope. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I hear someone waking up.” With that, he quickly kissed my cheek and strolled down the hall like he was at home.
I stood there, torn between wanting to yell at him and feeling a slight twinge of gratitude. What am I going to do with him? Mark definitely had a mind of his own. Shaking off the thought, I put on a pot of coffee. I yawned and headed to my bedroom. Might as well get my shower out of the way.
As I lathered my body, my thoughts drifted to how well-behaved Mark had been these past few days. Surprisingly well-behaved , I mused.
A week had passed since Mark appeared in my classroom. I would come home after work to find him at my house, cooking dinner while Liz attended to Tyler. Then Liz would leave, and I’d have dinner while Mark got Tyler bathed and ready for bed.
Yesterday had been no different. After dessert, Mark insisted on loading the dishwasher while I kicked back and watched Best Man Holiday . Once he was done, he joined me on the sofa. I thought I’d be anxious for him to leave, but instead, I found myself enjoying his company. Really enjoying it.
We talked about Tyler’s future and starting a savings account for him. Mark even mentioned contributing to the college plan I’d set up when Tyler was just a few days old. And not once did he bring up marriage or try to kiss me.
That was the surprising part. Here was a man who’d been adamant about wanting to marry me, yet he was no longer pushing the issue. Not even a hint. It was almost as if he understood what I needed more than anything right now was just… him. Not as a husband, but as a partner, a co-parent, someone I could lean on without feeling pressured.
And that, right there, was what had me so conflicted. The more time we spent around each other, the more I realized how good we were together. How natural it felt to have him in my space, sharing in the everyday moments of our lives.
I closed my eyes and let the hot water cascade over me, trying to wash away the confusion settling in my chest. One thing was clear: Mark was making it harder and harder to keep my guard up.
Last night, after the movie ended, I’d pulled down some old photo albums from the top shelf of my closet. We flipped through the pages, reminiscing about the last sixteen months of Tyler’s life. Mark hung onto every word I said—from the joy of carrying Tyler for nine months to the bittersweet memories that led up to the day he walked into his son’s life. I could see the pain in his face, knowing how much he had missed. He was so invested in every little detail, so genuinely interested in our son’s life, that it brought tears to my eyes. If I hadn’t already known how amazing Mark was, I knew it now. Tyler was lucky to have him as a father. And in that moment, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude that he was here now.
Turning off the water, I slid open the door and reached for a towel. As I wrapped myself in it and stepped into my bedroom, I heard Mark’s laughter from across the hall. The deep, genuine sound sent a shiver through me, making me acutely aware of his presence in a way I couldn’t ignore. Hearing Tyler laugh along with him made me smile.
The men in my life. That’s what they were—Mark and Tyler. Whether I wanted to admit it or not.
I moved to my closet, finally settling on simple brown slacks and a cream turtleneck sweater. I reached for a bottle of scented lotion, spreading it generously over my skin. As the fragrance wrapped around me, I smiled, realizing this was the first time I had the luxury of getting ready for work in months. Usually, I’d balance Tyler on one hip while applying makeup on the other. Having Mark around was proving to be an unexpected blessing.
What if you agree to marry him? Nope, it's not happening.
* * *
I fastened Tyler’s footed pajamas and set him down on the floor. In a flash, he was off, giggling and racing down the hallway like he had somewhere important to be. I chuckled, shaking my head at how quick he was, then grabbed the dirty diaper to toss it before following after him. Moments like these were everything to me.
As we reached the kitchen, I scooped Tyler into my arms, blowing bubbles on his belly to hear that sweet, infectious laughter. Once we were both laughing, I sat him in his highchair.
"Alright, Champ, let’s see what’s on the menu this morning," I said, grabbing the instant oatmeal from the cabinet. But before I started, I handed Tyler a slice of banana to keep him occupied.
I found a bowl, filled it with water, and placed it in the microwave. The scent of hazelnut coffee drifted through the air, and I poured myself a cup, savoring the rich, warm aroma.
“How about we make something special for Mommy?” I asked, giving Tyler a wink.
“Ma Ma!” Tyler squealed, his little voice filling the kitchen with warmth.
I grabbed a carton of eggs and some veggies from the fridge, starting to prep for a couple of omelets. After filling Tyler’s sippy cup with juice, I handed it to him. He eagerly abandoned the banana, gripping his cup like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. I took a sip of my coffee, set it down, and reached for a knife, chopping onions, green peppers, and tomatoes. As I worked, I couldn’t help but feel this deep sense of belonging. Not just to the Saunders name but to something deeper—My son. Our son .
For three days, I followed Essence’s rules—only coming over when Liz was there, making sure I didn’t disrupt her space. But yesterday, Liz and I had a long talk, and the conversation drifted to the holidays. She mentioned how much she missed her daughter and family in Denver. It took a little convincing, but I got her to see that Tyler would be in good hands and that Essence would get over it. Liz agreed, and I figured if worst came to worst and Essence tried to shut me out, my mother was ready to step in and take Tyler. But I wasn’t worried—Essence would have eventually come around.
I tossed the veggies into the skillet, letting them sizzle before cracking four eggs into a bowl. By the time I poured the oatmeal into the hot water, the veggies were perfect. I added the eggs to the skillet, and as I plated the second omelet, Essence walked into the kitchen.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” she greeted softly.
For a split second, I thought she was talking to me, but then I saw her beaming down at Tyler.
She bent down to plant a kiss on his forehead. “How’s my little darling this morning?”
“Ma-Ma,” he cooed, his tiny hands reaching for her.
After another kiss for Tyler, she grabbed a mug from the cabinet and headed for the coffee pot. She glanced over at me. “Want a cup?”
“I’m good, but I wouldn’t mind some sweetener,” I said, bringing the plates to the table.
She noticed the breakfast I’d prepared. “Wow, these look amazing.”
“You’re amazing,” I shot back, my tone genuine.
She smiled as she grabbed a couple of sweetener packets from the counter.
“Why don’t you sit and eat while I feed Tyler?” I offered.
She shook her head, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “How about you eat, and I’ll handle feeding him?”
“Nah, you’ve gotta work today, and I don’t. Sit down and enjoy.” I pulled out a chair for her, gesturing for her to sit.
Essence sat down, still looking amused, and took the fork I handed her. Tyler started to fuss a little, so I quickly mixed up a bowl of oatmeal, adding a touch of sugar and cold milk to cool it down.
“You better hurry up with that breakfast. Tyler doesn’t like to wait,” she teased, her playful smile making me feel more at ease.
“I see you got jokes.” I settled in front of Tyler, feeling more peaceful than I had in a long time.
Essence took a slow sip of her coffee, then turned to me with a curious look. “So, what’s on your agenda for today?” she asked, her voice casual but laced with that subtle edge of concern.
I smirked, spooning another mouthful of cereal into Tyler’s eager mouth. “I’m thinking about playing it by ear. Maybe hit the mall and pick up some females. What do you think, Champ?”
Tyler squealed, his tiny hands clapping excitedly, making us laugh.
Essence’s giggle was light, almost musical, as she dug into her eggs, her eyes flicking between me and our son. She had this way of looking at me that made it hard to focus on anything else—especially when she crossed her legs. Those fitted wool slacks showed off every curve. I tried to keep my attention on Tyler, but it was a struggle.
“Are you sure you can handle him alone?” she asked, her tone half-serious, half-teasing.
I gave her a confident grin, raising my right hand in a mock pledge. “Scout’s honor.”
She hesitated, then started listing off Tyler’s schedule, her voice filled with that motherly caution I’d come to expect from her. “He usually takes a nap around eleven. If he cries, he probably wants his rabbit, Floppy. Please give him a bottle, but make sure it’s water, not juice. And don’t forget to lock the side of his crib and never—”
“I got this,” I cut in gently, catching the flicker of worry in her eyes. “If I run into any issues, I’ll call you. And if things really go south, I can always hit up Her Highness Dorlinda Saunders. She’s got all the answers, right?”
Essence gave me a look—half-amused, half-annoyed—while I carried the empty bowl to the sink. She finished her coffee, still looking unconvinced, trying to decide if she should trust me or keep hovering over every detail.
“Why don’t you hand over your keys so I can warm up the car?” I offered, hoping to ease her mind.
“They’re right there.” She pointed to a set of keys hanging on the corkboard beside the refrigerator.
“How come you don’t park in the garage?” I asked, genuinely curious.
She shrugged, a little exasperation in her voice. “Because the door is old, heavy, and too much trouble.”
I nodded, grabbed the keys, and slipped on my jacket while thinking about how good this all felt—just like it should be.
* * *
I scooped Tyler up from his highchair, laughing as I swung him into my arms. “Give Momma a kiss.” He planted a big, sloppy kiss on my lips and grinned. I smoothed back his curls, feeling the warmth of his little body against mine. “Be good, sweetheart.” I carried him into the living room, kissed him, and gently set him down in his playpen.
As I turned to the window, I caught sight of Mark outside, scraping the ice off my windshield. A warm sensation spread through me, filling me with comfort. He was doing something simple, something thoughtful, but it meant a lot. It felt like he belonged here with me and Tyler, slipping seamlessly into our lives. He was taking control in a way that made it harder and harder to stick to my decision not to marry him. But I was determined. I wanted love and marriage, the real thing, or nothing at all.
I returned to my room, glancing in the mirror to check my makeup. I added another coat of lipstick and brushed my hair, taming the strands that had escaped my bun. Mark was in the foyer when I returned, wiping his feet on the rug. He looked up as I entered the room.
“Has your car been winterized?” he asked, catching me off guard.
“Uh...no,” I admitted, surprised at his thoughtfulness.
Mark frowned, his expression serious. “I’ll make you an appointment. Tomorrow, you can drive my vehicle.”
“My car is fine,” I insisted, not wanting to be a burden.
“No, it’s not...so don’t argue with me. If you don’t do it for me, do it for Tyler.”
He knew exactly how to get me to listen, and with that, the argument was over.
“All right, fine.” I reached into the hall closet and pulled out my long camel wool coat. Mark stepped forward to help me into it, his hands warm on my shoulders as he adjusted the collar. “Thanks,” I said, picking up my briefcase. I glanced at Tyler, seeing him happily occupied with his toys, and headed toward the door.
“See you later, Mark,” I said as I walked out, feeling the weight of his presence and the uncertainty that came with it. Mark lowered his hand to the knob and paused before opening it.
“Is that how you say goodbye?”
Before I could prepare, he pulled me in his arms and kissed me—a deep, delving kiss, a meeting of lips and tongues. My entire body came to life, every nerve, every muscle. He held me close and kissed me the way I had wanted him to since he had entered the house this morning. Before I lost control, I stepped back, letting my arms fall to my sides.
“Have a nice day,” Mark said as he opened the door, his voice warm and sincere.
Stunned, I just nodded, ignoring the flutter in my chest as I stepped out. With every act of kindness, every lingering kiss, he was making it harder for me to keep him at arm’s length.
As I drove to school, I gripped the steering wheel tightly. I’m in trouble, I thought, the realization hitting me hard. My relationship with Mark was starting to develop into something much more than I had ever imagined. And honestly, I was beginning to wonder if I was strong enough to fight it. For the last few days, he had managed to keep his hands to himself, but today, he kissed me. That kiss had thrown me off balance, leaving me unsure of what to think or expect next. Would he respect the boundaries I’d tried to set, or would he pull me into his arms and break down every last one?
The truth that I hated to admit, even to myself, was that I wanted him. I’d always wanted him. Mark was under my skin, in my blood—no matter how hard I tried, he was always there. Two years of trying to push him out of my mind hadn’t done any good because, deep down, I still wanted him. And the worst part was, whenever I closed my heart to him, he always seemed to find a way to crack it open again. He was invading my life and my space, and I knew that unless I held my ground, it would only be a matter of time before he broke through my defenses and recaptured my heart.
Once I pull into the parking lot. I vanished thoughts of Mark aside and hurried up the sidewalk, anxious to escape the cold. I pushed open the door to the school, the familiar scent of floor cleaner and chalk instantly grounding me, but it did nothing to quiet the storm brewing in my mind. The halls were still empty, as I liked it before the day's chaos began. I had enough time to grab a coffee and read the morning news before my students flooded in with boundless energy and endless questions.
As I walked down the hallway, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the screen and felt a twinge of guilt when I saw Malcolm’s name flashing. I hadn’t returned any calls, and I knew he’d notice. Sighing, I answered, knowing I couldn’t avoid him any longer.
“Hey, Malcolm,” I said, trying to sound upbeat, but my voice came out more strained than I intended.
“Essence, I was starting to think you were avoiding me,” Malcolm’s voice was calm, but there was an edge of concern underneath. “I’ve called you a few times.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” I replied, forcing a smile even though he couldn’t see it. “It’s just been… crazy around here. You know how it is with the holidays coming up and all.”
“Yes, I get that,” he said, but I could tell he wasn’t convinced. “Are you okay? You sound a little off.”
I hesitated, glancing around the empty hallway as if someone might overhear the thoughts running wild in my head. How was I supposed to tell him that Tyler’s father was back in town and his presence was messing with everything I thought I had under control? Whenever I saw Mark, my mind went into overdrive, replaying memories and imagining possibilities I had no business entertaining.
“I’m fine, really,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just… you know, a lot’s going on.”
There was a pause on his end, and I could almost see him frowning, trying to piece together what I wasn’t saying. I groaned inwardly. Malcolm was sweet and predictable, always knowing when something was off with me. But that was part of the problem. Everything with him was so... steady. No surprises, no excitement, just safe.
And maybe that was why my mind kept wandering back to Mark. Mark, with his boldness, spontaneity, and way of making me feel alive in a way Malcolm never could. And those kisses... I shook my head, trying to clear it, but it was useless. Mark was back, and I couldn’t stop thinking about him, no matter how hard I tried.
“Essence?” Malcolm’s voice pulled me back to the present. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” I repeated a little too quickly. “Listen, I need to set up my classroom before the kids arrive. Can we talk later?”
“Sure,” he said, though I could hear the doubt in his voice. “I just wanted to let you know we are finally drawing up the contract for this real estate deal. If everything goes as planned, I’ll be back home in the early part of next week. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”
“Of course,” I said, forcing enthusiasm into my voice. “We’ll talk when you get back. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too,” Malcolm replied, sounding a little reassured. “Take care, Essence. I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye, Malcolm,” I said quickly before hanging up and shoving my phone back into my pocket. I let out a long breath, leaning against the wall momentarily. My mind was a mess, torn between the man who had been a rock for me the last few months and the man who had returned, again turning my life upside down. I didn’t know what Malcolm wanted to talk about, but its weight hung in the air, adding to the pressure I already felt.
But I couldn’t think about that right now. I had a classroom full of kids who needed me to be present and focused; right now, that was the only thing I could control.
Straightening up, I grabbed a cup of coffee, then walked to my classroom and forced myself to focus on the task at hand. But even as I arranged desks and prepped my lesson, Mark was still there, lingering at the edges of my thoughts, refusing to be ignored.