Chapter 12 Lesley #2
She turned to look out the window, watching Coupeville roll by, the mix of old Southern charm and new money gleaming in the morning light. “Cancel their whole day just to... take care of me. Make sure I’m good. Make sure I don’t have to stress about anything except what I’m supposed to be doing.”
The honesty in her voice hit me harder than I’d expected.
Here was this woman who commanded respect in every room she entered, who could plan events that would make society pages and coordinate details that would make me give up, and she’d never had anyone put her first. I felt her, though.
I felt the same way, to be honest, and it was why the little ways she showed me that she didn't mind looking out for a nigga I wanted to do the same.
“I’m on yo ass like Huggies,” I said, my voice soft but serious. “You need something done, you tell me. You need to be somewhere; I’ll make sure you get there. You need somebody to handle the things that stress you out so you can focus on being the queen you are. That’s what I’m here for.”
She turned back to me, eyes softer than they’d been all morning. A little open. A little scared. Like she was deciding whether to trust what she was seeing.
“Who are you right now?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Because this isn’t the man I married. This isn’t even the man who abandoned me for two weeks.”
I stopped at a red light and turned to look at her. The way the sun caught her skin, the careful way she held herself, even when she was being vulnerable.
“This is me when I stop pretending I don’t want you,” I said, my voice carrying the weight of months of holding back.
“This is me when I stop acting like you’re just a name on a piece of paper.
This is me when I finally admit that I’d rather spend my day making sure you’re taken care of than making another dollar or closing another deal. My concern is you.”
The light turned green, but I didn’t move immediately. I let the cars behind me wait while I reached over and pulled her lips to mine, soft, deliberate, a promise I intended to keep.
“This is me falling in love with you, Colecion. And I’m tired of acting like I’m not.”
Her breath caught, and for a moment, the only sound in the car was the quiet hum of the engine and the rapid beating of my heart.
“Really, Lesley?” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
“Bae drive,” she said, a smile spreading across her face. “Drive, before I have to get out and handle Mildred for blowing that horn at you.”
I laughed, squeezing her hand before pressing the gas. Colecion reached for the music, switching to her playlist. Gucci Mane’s “Mr. and Mrs. Perfect” filled the car, and I grinned at her choice.
“You ever been to Turks and Caicos?” I glanced at her. “Me and pops are thinking about taking y’all, you and Karyn. When’s the last time you've been out of the country?”
“At least four years. Rebecca got left at the altar and still had honeymoon reservations, so we went and turned up on that nigga’s dime in Belize.” She grinned. “I’d love to go.”
I laughed, remembering the video feed from that night when her friends had come over. Those women were loyal as hell to each other.
“Okay, Turks it is. Now one last question...” I reached over and retook her hand, intertwining our fingers. “What’s your wildest dream? Snap your fingers, and it’s done type shit.”
She was quiet for a moment, really thinking about it.
“You know what I really want?” she said finally, her voice getting animated.
“I want to open an event emporium. Not just planning services, but everything under one roof. Venue space, catering kitchen, florist, photography studio, bridal boutique, everything someone needs to make their day or event perfect.”
Her eyes lit up as she talked, hands moving as she painted the picture.
“I’m talking about a place where a bride can come for her dress fitting, taste menu options, see her flowers being arranged, and have her engagement photos taken all in the same afternoon.
Where families can plan quinceaneras or anniversaries without coordinating with fifteen different vendors. ”
I could see the vision she was describing. I could picture her moving through a space like that, commanding every detail, making people’s dreams come true with that precision she brought to everything else.
“You really see that, huh?” I asked, squeezing her hand.
“I don’t just see it,” she said, her voice steady. “I’m going to build it. One day.”
I nodded slowly, letting the words settle.
“Then one day just turned into soon,” I said finally.
She looked at me, confusion flickering for a second before she caught the seriousness in my tone. “Be for real. I need land, lots of land and money, lots of money.”
I leaned in closer at the next red light, kissing her hand before putting it back on my thigh where I wanted it. “Good thing ya nigga got money and lots of it. I heard you. I believe in you. And when you're ready, I’ll make sure you get whatever you need to bring it to life.”
Her breath hitched, lips parting, but before she could answer, the horn behind us blared again. She rolled her eyes and laughed, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe me.
She went back to describing and telling me what all she needed.
Her voice carried, soft but steady, and all I could think was how right it felt to be here.
No boardrooms, no warehouses, no bullshit, just me and her, moving through the city like this was what we’d been supposed to be doing all along.
I glanced at her, sunglasses catching the light, ponytail swinging like it had its own rhythm, and let a slow smile pull at my mouth.
“Day one,” I said.
She turned to me, brow arched. “Day one of what?”
“Of me acting like the husband I should’ve been from the jump,” I told her.
Her lips curved, that smile that always knocked me off balance. “We’ll see, Lesley.”
“Nah,” I shook my head, confidence rolling off me as I pressed the gas. “You will.”