Page 17 of Essence of his Soul

As if hungry for his touch, I arched toward him, pressing closer, moving against him, encouraging him. Mark responded by grabbing my hair and gently tugging my head back, tilting my chin high. Then he gave me the kind of kiss my traitorous lips wanted, devouring my mouth with a passion that stole all my breath and left me panting and gasping.

“Let me make love to you.”

His words were the splash of ice water I needed to shake off the madness. Shaking my head to try to clear my mind, I lifted both my hands, palms out, to put some distance between us. What in the world was I doing?

“No,” I cried.

“No?” he repeated. His gaze moved over my features as surely as a caress.

A whisper of goosebumps raced along my spine, so I forced composure. “You heard me. No.”

“You don’t mean it,” he teased.

There was no way I was admitting the truth. “Everything that looks good isn’t always good for me.”

“It’s good, and you know it.”

Oh yeah, I knew it. Mark was standing beside me again, his hands grasping my waist. He turned me in his arms and swooped in with another searing kiss that left me gasping and breathless. I released a cry. My body seemed to sing joyfully as I felt his nearness and touch again. At that point, Mark could have thrown me across the kitchen table and taken me right then. I pushed him away with all the strength I could muster.

“Leave. Now!”

“Okay.” Mark’s jaw tightened. “My bad. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

The tension between us was thick, making it hard to breathe.

I looked into his eyes and saw that familiar stubbornness, that look that said he wasn’t going to back down.

“The only man that’s going to raise my son is me,” he said, his voice steady and determined. “And if that means I gotta keep you from anyone else, then so be it.”

Before I could even yell, ‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ Mark grabbed his leather jacket and walked out. The door closed with a solid, final click, leaving me standing there in stunned silence.

I curled up on the sofa long after he was gone, staring blankly at the Christmas tree. The house was too quiet, with only the twinkling lights on the four-foot tree blinking. Their soft glow flickered across the room, casting shadows that seemed to dance with the turmoil inside me.

After he left for Korea, I prayed every night that Mark would call. I remember stalking the mailbox, hoping for a letter that never came. My heart would jump every time my cell phone rang, only to crash when it wasn’t him. As the weeks turned into months, reality hit me hard—I was just a fling to him, a fairytale that didn’t come with a happily ever after. Instead, I was pregnant and alone.

The heartbreak was too much to bear, so I packed up and moved back in with my parents, hoping the familiarity of home would ease the pain. I couldn’t bring myself to return to the elementary school where Kelly and I worked, where everyone knew I had fallen for that charming military officer. So, during Christmas break, I resigned, avoiding the whispers and the pitying looks that would come once they found out I was pregnant. The months that followed were some of the darkest ofmy life. I slipped into a deep depression, mourning the future I had dreamed of but would never have.

I found a reason to fight back when Tyler was born, his tiny fingers curling around mine. For my son, I clawed out of the darkness, determined to build a life for us both.

And now, two years later, Mark had the nerve to think he could just show up and pick up where we left off, like the pain, the loneliness, the sleepless nights had never happened. Like my heart hadn’t been shattered, I was still trying to piece it back together.

Being around him now meant risking everything I’d worked so hard to rebuild. It meant reopening wounds that had barely started to heal. The thought of letting him back in—only to be broken again—scared me more than anything.

I pulled the throw blanket tighter around myself, my eyes still fixed on the glowing tree. The ornaments shimmered, holding memories of Christmases past, love, family, and joy. I wanted that for Tyler but wasn’t ready to trust Mark to be part of that picture.

* * *

I took the long scenic route back to my parent’s house, hoping they’d already turned in by the time I pulled up. I wasn’t in the mood for my mother’s questions or my dad’s long-winded speeches. My head was still spinning, trying to figure out why Essence had shot down my marriage proposal like it was nothing. Marriage was supposed to be about two people coming together and working toward the same goal. We had a son, and that alone should’ve been enough. So, what was the issue? We used to get along just fine—hell, we could do it again if she’d drop her guard and let me take the lead. Plus, our chemistry was still off the charts. What more could she possibly want? I already knew the answer: love. Essence was on some other stuff.She really believed love and marriage had to be a package deal, but like the song says,what’s love got to do with it?Love was overrated. As if to make my point, some sappy ballad came on the radio. I immediately switched the station, landing on a rap track with a bass-heavy beat that matched my mood perfectly.

I clenched the steering wheel, feeling the frustration rise in my chest. I thought Essence would be happy I proposed and that I was stepping up and ready to share the responsibilities of raising our son. But no-o-o! Outside of Tyler, she didn’t want anything to do with me. I glanced at the speedometer and eased off the gas when I realized I was pushing eighty-five.Dammit. Maybe it was just my pride talking. I wasn’t used to women turning me down. I was always calling the shots, never the other way around. Well, except for Carmen. My jaw tightened just thinking about that mess. She’d done an actual number on me—all in the name of love—and after that disaster, I swore no woman would ever get that close again. As I stared at the dark road ahead, my mind drifted back to Carmen James. I could still see her the first time we met, clear as day. I was leaving the mall, saw her, and instantly knew I had to have her. It all happened so fast—one minute, we were engaged, and the next, everything fell apart. After that, I made a vow: no woman would ever get that deep into my heart again.

Since Carmen, I kept my relationships short and sweet. That’s how I liked it. No strings, no expectations. I didn’t want anyone waiting for me to come home, hoping for more. It was easier just to be forgotten.

But with Essence? It was different. She was the one Icouldn’tforget. For two years, she stayed in my head, replaying over and over—the way she felt in my arms and looked at me with those big brown eyes. Even this morning, I thought about how gorgeous Essence Monroe was. What kind of fool would let a woman like her slip through his fingers? She was intelligent,charming, and fiercely independent, unlike military wives who leaned on their husbands for everything. Essence had been holding it down as a single mother for over a year, doing a damn good job raising our son by herself. But that independence? That’s what scared me. Because deep down, I wanted her to need me as much as I needed her.

Need her?I frowned, the thought unsettling. Mark Saunders needs a woman? That didn’t sit right. All I needed was to be a part of my son’s life. That’s why I proposed. I had to stay focused on that and keep my head straight. Otherwise, I might end up making the same mistakes I had made with Carmen, and I wasn’t about to let that happen again. I had to forget about those four weeks Essence and I spent together, put all that behind me, and stay focused on the goal.

But she’s seeing someone else.

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