Page 170 of Tarek

“I don’t give a fuck about Karma or you.”

“You don’t deserve happiness,” she shouts, “I swear to God, I will ruin it. You hear me. I will destroy it.”

I pause my voice drops “Melatonin look.”

“It’s Melody and–.”

A beep cuts her off. It’s Penny. Without hesitation I switch lines.

“Treasure?”

“Hey, did you get the goods?” She sounded like a smuggler over the phone. I tap the steering wheel, grunting low.

“Yeah, I got it.” Looking at the greasy brown bag on the passenger seat.

“Yes, okay drive home safely,” she says.

“Is that for me or the food?” I ask.

“Both.” Then she hung up.

* * *

PENNY

My bones feel like liquid; after devouring those delicious doubles and sipping on homemade mango juice. Carrying twins is uncomfortable but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I shift to the side and ease myself off the bed. Tarek’s already up; he is probably downstairs in the gym, like he always is at this hour. I look at the clock 4:00 a.m. God, I need to pee. I stand and the bedside light flicks on automatically. Then I feel it, a faint flutter low in my belly. My hands fly to my stomach, and I close my eyes waiting for the feeling again. There it is again my babies are moving. I sit down on the edge of my bed, and I begin to cry.

“Thank you, lord,” I mutter. I scrape my face as I wipe my tears away.

“What the hell?” A ring is on my finger. A ring that I didn’t put there. There is a fucking ring on my marriage finger. I look around the room trying to gather my mind. It’s not Christmas or Easter. My birthday is in May; we are far from May.

My hand trembles as I look at the ring, it’s beautiful. It’s a vintage art déco style emerald-cut diamond ring. It’s striking and luxurious in appearance. It was exactly what I wanted.

I slip my bedroom slippers on, and I walk down to Tareks in-house gym. I can’t help but admire the old stone castle we call home. It’s his father’s ancestral estate. The walls are lined with oil paintings of long- gone relatives, their eyes seeming to follow me as I pass. I imagine them wondering,What the hell is a black woman doing in our house?Well I am living here. And apparently, its about to be for life.

I make quick work passing through the Game room, then the outdoor patio and enter Tarek’s gym.

Stepping in the gym makes me feel out of place in my pj’s. This wasn’t just a gym, it’s a space that echoed opulence. Crystal chandeliers glitter from above, casting light over the sleek marble walls and polished floor. Mirrors cover the wall, making the room feel large and spacious. There is a faint scent of eucalyptus from the potted plants in the corner.

A deep grunt catches my attention as I watch Tarek on the bench, lifting weights that look impossibly heavy. He doesn’t hear me approaching since his ears are blocked by his earphones.

I walk around the back of the bench and look down at him as he finishes his rep, pushing the bar up in place with a controlled breath. He sits up and pulls the earphone out of his ears.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing towel and wipes his face.

My jaw drops. “Hey? Is that all you have to say to me?”

* * *

TAREK

Is that all I have to say? No. I haven’t slept since I placed the ring on her finger last night. I even made noises trying to get her up out of bed. I thought I would be able to work out and make breakfast and surprise her. But nothing goes according to plan.

“Why is this ring on my finger?” she asks.

I wipe my face. No one tells you how nerve wrecking it is to ask a girl to marry you.

“Yes. I want you to marry me.”

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