Page 66 of Essence of his Soul

“Finally, we meet,” he said, standing up and offering me his hand. His grip was firm—like he was sizing me up—and I gave it right back.

“I wish it could’ve been sooner, sir,” I said, holding his gaze. I meant it. If things had been different, maybe I’d have done this the right way sooner.

He let go of my hand, rubbing the back of his head, which was nearly bald except for some salt-and-pepper hair around the edges. “I’d like to have a word with you later, in private.”

I caught the irritation in his tone, and I knew this wouldn’t be a cakewalk. “That’ll be fine, sir,” I replied, keeping my tone respectful. I was ready for whatever he had to throw at me.

Essence, though, wasn’t feeling that. I could see the tension in her shoulders. She moved beside her dad, wrapping an arm around his waist like she was trying to soften him. “Behave,” she murmured to him, her voice low but firm.

He kissed her on the top of her head, his whole demeanor shifting as he pulled her close. That was a father’s love right there. I respected it and felt the same way about Tyler.

Before I could say anything else, her great-aunt entered the room, and Essence started introducing me to a parade of family members. Aunties, uncles, cousins—I lost track after a while. All I could do was smile, shake hands, and hope I remembered some names by the end of the night.

“Your dad’s not feelin’ me too much,” I murmured to Essence as we moved through the crowd.

She squeezed my hand, giving me that look that said everything without saying a word. “He’s a pastor,” she said, her voice soft but serious. “He not only likes you, but as a minister, he actually loves you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?” I asked, my tonehalf-joking but also dead serious. Her dad’s vibe wasn’t exactly screaming love.

Essence laughed and pulled me closer, wrapping her arm around my waist. “Trust me,” she said, her voice full of reassurance. “You’ll be fine.”

As we continued to move through the house, I spotted Tyler. He was getting passed around like a favorite toy, everyone smothering him with kisses. That kid had no idea how loved he was.

In the living room, Tamara’s husband and some male cousins were deep in a heated football debate. They were going back and forth like they were on ESPN. I slid right into the conversation, and before long, it felt like I’d been here forever. Essence’s family was loud, full of love, and real. This was home, the kind of place where you could see yourself building something solid.

And that’s exactly what I wanted—with her.

* * *

As I set the table, trying to focus on the task, I caught my mother giving me that look. You know, the one where she’s got something on her mind, and you’re about to hear all about it. I wasn’t in the mood, but I knew it was coming.

“Tyler looks just like his father,” she said, casually like she wasn’t fishing for more. But I knew her better than that.

I pulled the cornbread out of the oven, trying to stay cool. “Yes, he does,” I said, keeping my tone even, like I wasn’t bracing for the real question.

She didn’t miss a beat. “I like him, Essence. Mark seems like a good man. Have y’all talked about the future?”

Here we go.I looked over, trying to keep it light. “Other than raising Tyler? No.” I made sure to sound like it was no big deal, even though we both knew it was.

My mother gave me that sympathetic smile, the one thatalways made me feel like I was the one missing something. “He’s a nice man. I was hoping maybe the two of you...” She let her voice trail off like she wasn’t trying to push too hard, but I wasn’t fooled.

I could’ve told her everything that went down with me and Mark these past few days. But I wasn’t about to jinx it. Not yet. “No, Mom. I’m good with how things are,” I said, trying to convince myself as much as her. I sat down at the table, needing a break from this conversation.

Mom followed, pulling out a chair and sitting down beside me. “I thought maybe you’d changed your mind,” she said, watching me closely.

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Why would you think that?”

She smiled, but there was something else behind it—something knowing. “I have eyes, Essence. Anybody can see how Mark looks at you.”

“How he looks at me?” I repeated, feeling exposed all of a sudden.

“The same way your father looks at me,” she said, her voice soft, filled with that bittersweet memory.

I sighed. “Mom, Mark’s not like that. He’s told me straight up he’s not looking for love.” I was tired of repeating and saying it like I believed it myself. Mark had been clear since day one.

But Mom, being Mom, wasn’t letting it go. “Well, I think he’d make a wonderful husband.”

“Mom, please,” I said, shaking my head, trying to shut this down before it went any further.

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