Page 3 of Love Delayed

My father was a brilliant engineer but changed careers to the hotel industry after they married. My parents now own four properties. A college graduate with a hospitality degree, my gift from them was a newly remodeled property I would own and run, yet something I had no interest in. Still, my mom guilted me into taking on the responsibility, stressing how much they had worked hard and sacrificed to be able to pass along to me a profitable property. So, I set aside my true desires for Intel to please them. I was honestly a tech geek, which oddly turned Zamora on. She was the only one who knew me better than anyone, and I loved her with all of my being.

She and I were the best of friends. No matter how bad of a day I had, laying eyes on her made everything better. What I loved most about Zee was her creativity. She turned our condo into a cozy home and would cook mouth-watering meals I would choose to eat over dining out at a 5-star restaurant any day. My baby could cook her ass off, but somehow, her greatest gift turned out to be our downfall.

One day, she announced that she was going to Maryland to attend culinary school. This news hit me from left field and caused my heart to stop for a second or two. If I can be honest, it wasn’t the fact that she didn’t include me in her decision that broke us up. It was more like jealousy––me being jealous of her daring to pursue her dreams while I still allowed the Colemans to control my future. I wanted to work with robots and build machines that would help improve our health and environment. I yearned to be in a lab working on better ways for our world to function, but I was too cowardly to speak my truth and go after what I wanted for my life. Now, I had to live with the harsh reality that I had lost the best woman in the world for me because of my issues with myself and not because she did what I was not courageous enough to do, which was follow her heart.

I missed her so much after she left but was too bullheaded to even talk to her. I was a fool to let her go, and when I finally admitted it to myself and got the nerve to want to reach out to her many months later, I saw a share on a mutual friend’s page that she was headed to New York for two months for some culinary experience. I smiled at the photo of her beautiful, bright smile and cocoa skin. Her hair was in a bushy, curly style that I thought was a perfect new look on her, and her slanted almond-shaped dark brown eyes shined. Her high cheekbones were a little chubbier, and her body had filled out a bit more––with plumper tits and rounder hips, but she was still beautiful. As my eyes traced the photo from her head to the strappy sandals on her feet, I let my fingers caress the screen for a moment. Then, breaking my own heart for a second time, I silently wished her well, not wanting to set her back from what she had more than likely already healed from––me.

Zamora

The Pregnancy Announcement

I was standing in my kitchen wondering what I could whip up real fast. I wasn’t too hungry or looking to make anything heavy. I decided a cheese omelet with some fruit would be light. I placed my favorite frying pan on the gas burner and quickly grabbed the eggs and cheese. I grabbed my mixing bowl, whisk, salt, and pepper, and cracked open my eggs. I learned a long time ago to let the chill, off the eggs so they can cook evenly. It has become a habit over the years. I set the beaten eggs to the side, chopped up some pineapples and strawberries, and then grated my cheddar cheese. Initially, my idea was to keep it simple, but I thought a loaded omelet sounded better, so I went for the Applewood chicken sausage and veggies.

After slicing and dicing, I coated my frying pan with a few drops of olive oil and tossed the chicken sausage in first. Before I could add my veggies, my cellphone rang, and it was my husband. I decided I’d buzz him back after I was done, but seconds later, he called again. I added my veggies to the pan and then answered.

“Hello,” I said, placing him on speaker.

“Zee, where are you?” he asked in a rush.

“I’m home. Why?” I asked, wondering why he sounded so winded.

“Listen, I got something to tell you, and I’m on my way. If someone comes by the house, don’t answer the door, okay.” I’ll be there in like fifteen minutes,” he added.

I poured my eggs into the pan. “Why, what’s going on, Ev? What are you talking about?” I asked him, and then my doorbell chimed. “Hold on, someone is at the door.” I placed my spatula down on the counter and headed towards the door.

“No, Zee, no, do not go to the door,” he yelled, but I was already at the door. I looked through the peephole to see the back of a woman’s head, so I opened it.

“May I help you?” I asked. She turned to face me, holding her swollen belly.

“Hi, I’m Terri, and I am pregnant with Evan’s son. Can we talk?” she asked politely. Stunned, I ignored Evan’s pleas not to speak to this stranger and hit the end button on my phone. It took me a minute to register the words that just came out of her mouth, and I blinked several times. “You are Zamora Watts?” she asked.

I cleared my throat. “I am, and your name again. All I heard was pregnant with Evan’s son.”

“Terri, Terri Madison. May I come in?” she asked, now rubbing her very pregnant mid-section.

Taking a moment to process what was happening, I stepped aside and let her enter our home. Maybe that was a bad decision, but I needed to know what was happening under my simple nose. I had zero reasons to think that Evan was cheating, and to have made a baby made my stomach churn.

She stepped in and stood in the foyer, and I shut the door. I realized my omelet was smoking up my kitchen. “Oh shit,” I shouted, and ran to remove the pan from the burner. I turned the vent on high and fanned the air with my oven mitt. In the midst of a coughing fit, I noticed that Terri had followed me from the foyer into my kitchen. My floor plan was open, so she didn’t have to look hard to find me. I offered her a seat.

“Thank you,” she said and hoisted herself onto a stool at the island.

The smoke quickly began to clear, and I ignored my ringing phone because I knew it was my deceitful ass husband. “So, do you want to tell me why you’re here?”

She placed her hand on top of her stomach. “Well, first, I didn’t want to do this like this, but I was tired of Evan lying to me about you and over his promises to leave you. I just thought it was time to tell you that he and I have been on and off for about a year, and I am currently six months pregnant.”

Inside I was hotter than fish grease, but I didn’t leap across the counter and dive on this pregnant bitch. I knew that Evan was the problem, but she participated and deserved some smoke just as much. “Listen, Terri, I don’t know what you wanted to accomplish by coming to my home with this news. I don’t know you, and for all I know, you could be crazy, delusional, or a stalker. However, if what you are saying holds any truth, what do you want from me?”

“I don’t want shit from you. I just want Evan to man the fuck up and be a part of my child’s life,” she shot back.

“I’m sure he will because I know for sure he wants to be a dad, but again, what do you want from me? Do you want me to give my husband a divorce so you can be with him? Do you want me to say great, we are going to be co-parents? I want to know how you felt just an ounce of comfort with coming to my home and telling me this news alone?” I asked, knowing full well that I had no intention of putting my hands on her. Still, I wanted her heart to race at the same speed mine was racing after hearing a woman tell me that my gotdamn husband, the man that I built my life with, would do me so damn dirty by not only cheating on me but conceiving a child.

Evan and I had tried for close to three years to conceive, and now I was standing in my kitchen having a conversation with a woman that rode the fuck out of my husband’s dick and had the evidence growing in her womb. I wanted to tackle her ass.

“I don’t want anything from you,” she tried to say, and then Evan walked in. She looked at him, but I kept my eyes on her because if I had looked at him, I would have grabbed the knife that I had just chopped the veggies with and stabbed his ass.

“Terri, why? I mean, really, you’d do this,” he said, and I could hear the panic in his voice.

“Evan, I told you that I was done playing games, so here I am, and you need to tell Zamora the truth!” she demanded while pounding my kitchen island.

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