Page 46 of In the Middle of No(ah)where
Marcus's presence is my anchor, a grounding force amid the swirling chaos of my life. He understands my struggles and reminds me daily of my worth, my strength, my resilience.
Midterms are a week away, and I find myself regressing more and more–building elaborate Lego spaceships and creating my alien villages, seeking solace in the simplicity of childhood. Purin is now a semi-permanent fixture on the couch because I don't like to be too far away from him.
There are two knocks on the front door before it opens. I know it's Marcus. He's the only one that knocks like that, and my heart skips. When he steps inside, I smile at the bags in his hand.
"Did you get me chicken nuggets and extra fries?" I ask as he heads into the small kitchen.
"Have we met?" He grins and teases. "Go wash your hands, and we can eat." I turn and run to the kitchen sink before he callsover his shoulder. "And don't roll your eyes at me. You know how many germs are on those LEGO?"
How did he know I rolled my eyes? His back was turned. As if reading my mind. "I have eyes in the back of my head," he laughs.
"That's silly, Daddy. Are you an alien?" I half-dry my hands on the towel and finish wiping them on my jeans before pulling out the chair, where my nuggets are already open. I dip one in the BBQ sauce and pop the whole thing in my mouth in the biggest bite ever. "Mm, so good."
"Don't talk with your mouth full," he scolds before taking a bite of his cheeseburger.
"Sorry," I tell him before dipping my fry in the mound of ketchup. "What's the plan after dinner?" I ask.
"Did you pick up your room like I asked?" I slouch down in my chair, making myself small. "That's what I thought. First, we'll start by cleaning your room. Put all of your dirty clothes in the laundry bag I gave you and put it by the front door so we can take it to my house later to wash."
I love that he allows me to wash clothes at his house instead of using the laundry room.
"Then, you're going to shower."
"Together?" I ask hopefully.
"Of course." He gives me a wink and takes another bite of his burger.
21
Marcus
The beginning of December is magical here in Rockport Ridge as the first snowfall blankets the ground–ice crunching under the soles of our boots. The air is filled with the crisp scent of wood smoke and apple cider as we make our way through the winter festival. Space heaters warm the path along with tents, decorations, and lights.
"It's kind of romantic, don't you think?" Noah asks as we walk along the path. Twinkle lights hang overhead, and a few flakes are still drifting to Earth.
"Very." His gloved hand is in mine.
We fall silent as we take in the carolers, whose rhythm falls in line with our footsteps.The quiet intimacy of the moment is breathtaking, a testament to the depth of our connection.
It's the end of Noah's first semester, and I couldn't be prouder of him.
As the sun dips below the horizon, Noah turns to face me, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I'm so in love with you, Marcus," he says softly, his voice a gentle caress against the cold evening air.
My heart swells with emotion, feeling the same deep affection for Noah.I reach out, my hand gently cupping his cheek, trying to convey the depth of emotion that words could never fully express.
Our love and relationship has not been perfect. We've faced our challenges but found something truly rare and precious.
The light breeze whips across our faces, nipping our cheeks as we walk hand in hand through the market. Noah picks up a few Christmas gifts along the way before his hand joins mine again.
"Noah, do you remember that ridiculous putt I missed on the seventh hole?"
Noah chuckles. "That was random."
I laugh along with him. "I guess it is. But it's something I was thinking about."
"Let me guess. The wind made you think about it since you blamed the non-existent wind that night?" he teases.
Our joined laughter mingles, a comforting melody of the playful banter we often find ourselves in. "Okay, okay," he relents. "What about it?"
