Page 56 of Essence of his Soul

I woke up the following day after what felt like an entire night of tossing and turning. Sleep had barely touched me, and when I finally dragged myself out of bed, I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. I threw on my favorite lavender sweatpants and an old purple T-shirt, hoping the comfort would somehow balance the mess in my head. When I shuffled into the kitchen, ready to get that jolt of caffeine to jumpstart my day, I opened the cabinet, and of course, no coffee.

Just perfect.

I mumbled a few choice words under my breath and settled for some warm milk while I half-listened to the news. The weatherman was talking about ice and freezing rain coming later in the day, and just hearing that made me grumble even more. By the time I burnt the bacon and overcooked the eggs, I knew this was not about to be a good day.

I was mad; mad at Mark for playing games and even more furious at myself for letting him pull me into his nonsense.

"Stupid," I muttered, yanking the vacuum out of the hall closet like it had personally offended me. "You haven’t learned a damn thing in two years," I scolded myself. Grabbing the gingerbread cookie-scented carpet freshener, I shook it over the living room carpet like I was punishing the dirt for existing. Each sprinkle felt like a release of the tension boiling inside me. Then, I stalked into the kitchen for the furniture polish, slamming the cabinet door harder than necessary. Tamara’s words from last night echoed in my head, loud and taunting, but the idea of seducing Mark, that ship had sailed. It was never going to happen.

I wasn’t chasing after him. Not now, not ever. He left me, walked away like we didn’t matter, and made it crystal clear he didn’t want to commit. He really thinks he can just show up, discover we have a son, and offer me some half-baked, loveless marriage. Boy, bye. What kind of fool did he think I was? If anybody was playing games, it sure wasn’t me.

The anger in my chest bubbled over, and I grabbed the vacuum. Flipping the switch, I let the loud hum drown out my thoughts, pushing it across the carpet like I could vacuum up my frustration. Back and forth, back and forth, the motions repetitive but oddly therapeutic. I didn’t stop there. Before I knew it, I was on a mission, cleaning the entire house like my sanity depended on it.

From one room to the next, I let my anger fuel me. I scrubbed the bathrooms until the tiles sparkled and wiped down every surface like I was erasing the nonsense Mark had brought into my life. When his text said he was waiting for the roads to clear before heading over, I scoffed at my phone. Perfect. More time to stew.

I was convinced last night had been nothing more than his way of trying to manipulate me into doing what he wanted. Well, that wasn’t happening. Not again.

By the time the sun had dipped below the horizon, I’d polished the last wooden table, and exhaustion finally hit me. I collapsed onto the sofa, taking in the fresh, clean smell of the house. At least something good had come out of this mess. With a toddler running around, I rarely had the time—or energy—to deep clean the house, so I silently, begrudgingly, thanked Mark for giving me the time today. Damn him. I wasn’t about to give him all the credit, though.

The dryer buzzed, snapping me out of my thoughts. I dragged myself off the couch and went to pull the load of clothes out, folding each item with deliberate precision. My phone buzzedagain. Another text from Mark.

The snowplow just got here. We’ll be heading your way shortly.

I stared at the message for a moment, my fingers gripping a tiny T-shirt. I wondered what I’d say to him when he showed up. I wanted answers, plain and simple. He wasn’t going to skate by on charm or empty promises. Not this time.

As I folded Tyler’s clothes, I ran through the possible conversations, debating how much to reveal without giving away too much. The last thing I wanted was for Mark to know how much his rejection had cut me. I wasn’t about to lay my heart bare for him again, but he owed me the truth. I needed to know what this was—why he was here—and whether I could trust a single word.

I was so wrapped up in my racing thoughts I barely heard the doorbell the first time. It rang again, and frowning, I walked to the door.

I opened it, and there stood Malcolm. "What are you doing here?" I asked, trying to keep my surprise from showing.

He smiled and stepped inside, bringing the cold air with him. "Do I need a reason to see you?"

Before I could answer, he pulled me close and kissed me on the mouth like he was trying to prove something. His tongue slipped past my lips, and I pulled back, stunned. What in the world had gotten into him?

I shut the door quickly, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened. "Is something wrong?" I asked, noticing a shift in his usual calm, collected demeanor.

Malcolm stared down at me, his expression softening. "No, I’m going to miss you, that’s all." His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I’m leaving in the morning, and I wanted to try to convince you to come with me one last time."

This wasn’t the first time he’d asked me to go down to SouthCarolina with him for the holidays to meet his family, and every time, I’d given him the same answer.

"I already told you I can’t. My family’s coming for the holiday."

He shrugged, flashing that charming smile of his. "A man won’t know unless he asks." Then, his smile faltered just a little, and he gestured toward the sofa. "Come on, sit down. I need to talk to you."

I hesitated. "What’s going on, Malcolm?"

He winked at me, but something about the moment felt off. He took my hand and led me to the sofa, pulling me close as we sat. My heart sank; I had a feeling I wouldn’t like what was coming next.

"Malcolm, just tell me."

He smiled again, but this time, it was nervous, his grip on my hands tightening. "I didn’t want to leave without telling you how I feel."

I opened my mouth to speak, but he shook his head, cutting me off.

"Please, let me finish." His grip was almost too firm now. "Essence, I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life making you and Tyler happy."

Before I could process his words, he pulled a ring out of his pocket and slid it onto my finger. "It belonged to my grandmother," he whispered, staring at me like he’d just given me the world.

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