MONFUA
I stared at the screen as my finger circled over the submit button. While Sukalati was still asleep, I was in the living room debating whether I should submit my application to the fire academy. “Nigga just hit submit,” I gritted while looking at the screen.
This was the part of being an adult that parents didn’t prepare their kids for. I knew it was the best decision, but I also knew the life I lived outside this couldn’t coexist. The feeling of a hand gliding up my bare back startled me. “What’s that?” I heard her ask.
My eyes were still focused on the screen. “My application to the fire academy,” I mumbled.
My head eased its way toward her. The bed sheet was wrapped around her tightly as she held her hands behind her back. Her cheeks rose into a bright smile. “A fine ass firefighter. I can see it. Why don’t you do it? What are you scared of? Change?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“I am too, but look at me here with a man I married before I learned who he was. I think you should hit submit. What was it you asked me, are you afraid of risks?”
I laughed. It had always been easier to challenge other people but never myself. As I took in her beauty, she brought her arms from around her back, and she snapped a picture of me using an old Polaroid I had in my closet. “Fine ass,” she laughed again.
I reached out to grab it, but she backed up. “Aht, aht. Pose for me, Fua. I want to make memories.”
I dropped my head before I slowly raised my eyes to her. My tongue slowly ran across my lips. “Ok.”
I went to put my hair into a ponytail, and she snapped another picture. “No, leave that shit down. Come to me,” she purred.
My stroll toward her was slow and intentional. With every step I took, she snapped, pulling the Polaroid from the camera, tossing it onto the floor. When I was close enough, I reached out and took it from her hand. I turned it around and snapped.
Snap!
“Undo the sheet.”
She shook her head as she held a giddy grin on her face.
I nodded and she shook her head. She backed herself into the wall, unable to move.
I stopped only inches away from her as I reached out and slowly pulled at the sheet.
“Sukalati, look at me, baby,” I told her as the sheet slid down her chocolate skin.
Snap!
“Tell me your fears,” I said to her.
Her head was slightly tilted to the side as her eyes became glassy. “Don’t cry. Tell me,” I muttered.
She caught her tears, “Failing,” she whispered.
Snap!
“What else?” I asked.
“Losing you and my brother.”
Snap!
“What else?” I said, moving closer.
“Not being loved.”
I paused. These were all valid answers. Answers that I could relate to.
However, that shit with losing me and her brother, well, that was something I couldn’t weave out.
I was now standing in front of her, and I took her hand into mine.
“Hold your hand up,” I instructed her. She held it, and I placed my hand against hers and snapped.
I waited until the picture slipped out and shook it.
Once it came into both our hands, I gave it to her.
“You keep it as a reminder. I’m not your homie, lover, or friend, Sukalati.
I’m your husband, and as long as you're honest with me. There for me, I will be all that for you and more. Do you hear me?”
She smiled, “Yes.”
I kissed her lips. “I want to teach you something. Consider this your first lesson. I want you to say, oute alofa ia te oe.”
She laughed. “A what and what.”
I smiled. “Let me slow it down. Oo-teh,” I paused. “Say it,” I added.
“Oo- teh.”
“Ah-lo-fah.”
She moved her head in response to the sound. “Ah-lo-fah.”
“Good girl. Ee ah teh o-eh.”
She smacked her lips, “You're going too fast. Slow down.”
I dropped my head and laughed. “I mean, damn, how slow do you want me to go. Ok, ee-ah-teh o-eh h,” I moved my lips slowly for her.
“Ee -ah- teh o-eh.”
I nodded. “Ok, let’s put it together. Oute alofa ia te oe. Just let that shit roll off your tongue.”
“Oute alofa ia te oe,” she said perfectly.
The shit made a nigga feel good, like it was real. I knew it would mean something in due time, but hearing her say it in this moment felt good.
She caught my eye, “Did I say it right?”
“Yes. Yes, you did.”
“What did I say?” she asked curiously.
I was debating if I wanted to bullshit around the question, but the more I gazed into her pretty ass eyes, I couldn’t lie. “I love you,” I muttered.
In her eyes, I was telling her what she had just learned, which was true, but in my eyes, I was actually telling her how I felt. She looked away, then back at me. “Is that how you feel?” she asked.
I smiled. “I—”
I paused as her eyes and mine both shot toward the door. I quickly looked at her, “You called your brother?”
She shook her head quickly. “No. I swear.”
I grabbed the sheet, putting it around her as I made my way toward the door. When I glanced in the peephole, I was confused. I grabbed my gun, cocked it, and opened the door, aiming it at the guy. “Who the fuck are you and why are you at my door in the middle of a fucking rainstorm?” I gritted.
He, himself, seemed confused. “Sorry. I was looking for someone.”
“Who nigga because you’re out here like you trying to find your way back to fucking OZ.”
I thought he was looking at me, but I noticed he was looking past me. “Lakia!” he called out.
I turned to see her standing behind me, “Who is this nigga Sukalati and why is he at my fucking house?”
Her eyes widened as her mouth opened. “It’s Kirk, my ex.”