Page 81 of One Hotlanta Night
She stops and gives me her full attention. Her arms are trembling just as my hands ache to reach for her, to hold her close as we have this conversation. But I’ll respect her need for physical distance. For as long as I can, anyway.
“Remember what you said to me on the phone that day, when we talked for the first time? About how you loved your job but didn’t want to do it forever? About how you felt stuck here with the way things were going? Like life was passing you by?” She looks at me in acknowledgement and surprise. “Yes, mi amor, I was reading between the lines. No one talks about craving change if they’re content with how things are. This is an opportunity for us to start something new in our lives. We can travel and explore—together. We don’t have to stay in the same place. And my job will pay well enough that you can go back to school if you want. To take the history classes you loved. You don’t have to work if you’re having a bad fibro day. We won’t need it. I can provide for you. For our family. We won’t have to struggle so much.” She seems to mull it over, but I can practically see her filing that away in her head under “to be dealt with later.”
“But that’s not the issue. Claire needs me,” she continues.
“Yes, she does, right now, anyway. But wasn’t she also the one that encouraged you to live your life? To not wait for happiness?”
“Of course she did. But I’m talking about the restaurant. We’re barely running with a bare-bones crew as it is—”
“What about Derrick? You’ve said he wants to help out more, has ideas for making things better. He looks like he’d love a chance to step in and help, don’t you think?” Her eyebrows knit together in irritation. “Mi amor, I’m being sincere with everything I say. I will always try to find solutions toourproblems. It’s what I do; I’m a problem solver. I know you’re scared of the idea, but I’m trying to tell you it will be okay. The relationships we have will change, but they won’t go away just because we’re changing zip codes.
“And as for your mom,” I bring it up because I know it’s a sore spot for my woman, “you’ve told me again and again how you wish your relationship could be different. I know that it has been difficult. This could be the chance at a new start—forher,too,” I rephrase quickly. My parents and I might be close, but that doesn’t mean that it has always been easy. “Sometimes distance brings clarity,” I say, speaking for both our situations.
Vivian resumes her quick strides, her fingers wringing the hem of her shirt as she does. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she walks back and forth. My skin itches with the need to step in and wrap my arms around her. To physically give her the reassurance that we can figure things out together. That she doesn’t have to do it on her own anymore. It’s killing me to give her the space to work this out for herself. But right now, I have to show that I can step back and let her, until she accepts that I’m not going anywhere.
“What will people say? They’ll say we’re nuts; that’s what they’ll say!” she cries out almost despairingly, and my eyebrows furrow, wondering why she feels this so strongly. I hear the words she’s saying, but they’re lacking conviction. What’s coming through is confusion. If that’s all it is, then I will clear that up for her right now. Give her the clarity she needs, removeall her hesitation, all doubt from her mind. She doesn’t have to decide anything. All she has to do is accept.
“Claire and your mom aside, why do you care?” I ask gently. “Why do you care what ‘people,’ whoever they are, think? Are they gonna live your life for you?” The look of hurt that washes over her face makes me wish I could take back those words. For whatever reason, I’ve hit a nerve; something she hasn’t talked to me about before; something we’ll eventually need to discuss. She’s spiraling, her pacing becoming more frantic, as she thrusts her hands through her hair and tugs at the ends.
“Michael, I… I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t–don’t have the greatest track record.” She looks up at me, her eyes beseeching me to understand. “We just met each other. I figured we had weeks, months to plan. Not just a wedding, but the rest of our lives. To adjust to—well, all of it. And now you’re telling me you want me to just leave everything I know behind and follow you to a strange city where I don’t know anyone but you? This is crazy. It’s too soon. I love you but—” Her voice chokes on a sob, tears falling freely now. Her eyes flash green through the wetness. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispers again, looking at her feet, unable to meet my gaze as she starts to walk away from me.
No, no,no!This can’t be happening. My chest tightens painfully as panic begins to take hold. Everything I’ve been looking for might be slipping away. My woman, the love of my life, might not want me as much as I do her.
No. There is no future without her in it. And I refuse to believe she doesn’t love me just as much as I do her.
She justsaidshe loved me, right? So it’s not me. It’s the situation. Just the situation. I can work with that.
I force a few deep breaths into my lungs. Rationale overcomes my fear, reminding me that I prepared for this outcome too. Project management makes you account for all variables, and alloptions include Vivian, no matter what. Plans can change, but my love will not. Now that I have her in my life, I can’t imagine living without her. “Youdolove me, don’t you, mi amor?” I whisper.
The thought that maybe she’s reconsidering more than just the move sends a chill through me.
Vivian
My feet move without any sense of direction, my thoughts overwhelming my mind, until I almost bump into the wall separating the living room from the kitchen. Turning at the last minute, I freeze as Michael comes toward me, his movements slow and controlled. Backing me up against the wall, he carefully,deliberately, leans his arms on either side of my head, bracketing me in so that I can’t see anything but the resolve in his expression.
I’m not used to emotional confrontation; sweeping things under the metaphorical rug is all I’ve ever known. It’s clear Michael is going to insist on a decision, on working this out together, and while his intensity scares me, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling a small rush at his determination.
He’s strong. Dedicated. Unwavering in his convictions. And he’s convinced this is the right choice for us.
But can I really do this?
“Vivian, I will find another job if you need me to. Because nothing is going to keep us apart. I won’t let it.”
He grips my chin softly but firmly, forcing my eyes to meet his.
“But, please, consider it. Consider what it can mean for us. A fresh start, away from all our bullshit, our pasts. The things that hold us back. A clean slate to build our lives together without any interference. Fromanyone.” He pauses, searching my eyes with his.
The fire in his gaze consumes me, pinning me to the spot.
“If what you’re really concerned about is what other people think, don’t be. What they think doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have to make sense to them, only us. My mom, your mom, our friends… They all think they know how we should live our lives. But they’re our lives to live, not theirs. They’re not part of our relationship; it’s me, you, and God. That’s what we have together; that’s what we’re going to build upon.
“Are they going to be there with us, doing our jobs and paying the bills and being there when we fight? Hell no. They don’t get to lay claim to that. That’s us, doing the work, makingthiswork, day in and day out. We will be here for each other, be strong for each other. That’s what a marriage is and no one else has any right to speak into it when they’re not a part of it.” He pauses, brushing away a strand of hair that’s fallen into my eyes, his touch so tender compared to the heated passion in his words.
“I know this is a lot sooner than what we originally talked about, and I’m sorry for taking you by surprise. It wasn’t how I expected our Monday to go. But I won’t say I’m sorry that this pushes our plans up. Because the sooner that you have my last name and the sooner that we can start our lives together, the better as far as I’m concerned.” He slides one firm hand over my stomach, caressing it. “This opportunity could mean us starting a family sooner rather than later. If that’s what you want.” He must hear the hitch in my breath, because his hand continues tosmooth over my belly, like he’s laying claim to it. To what could be.
He rests his forehead against mine, as if pressing our heads together would help me see inside his mind. “I know this feels really fast for you. But it’s not fast for me at all. I knew you were mine the moment I saw you. This is just going to make it official to everybody what I already know in my heart.” He reaches up, running his thumb along my cheek, wiping away the tears that have slowed to a trickle.
“I want to be with you. I want to hold you in our bed every night. I want to wake up to you every single morning. Want to have children with you. I want us to be old and gray on rocking chairs on the porch looking after our grandkids. And I promise that I will do everything I can in this life to make you happy to be with me. To be glad that youchoseme.” He pauses, his forehead wrinkling, and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again I can see a shimmer of fragility even as he fixes me with the intensity of his gaze.
