Page 91 of One Hotlanta Night
I sit back in my chair, slightly out of breath and unaware that I’d been leaning closer over the table, my words having run out of me. My heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest, my emotional speech exhausting.
I’m almost surprised Michael hasn’t said a word, yet also grateful that he didn’t intervene. His solid presence and reassuring touches helped ground me as I said my piece. Only his tightened hold on my shoulder and twitching thigh revealed how much he was holding himself back, restraining himself from jumping in to protect and defend me. I try to focus on his warm touch as I attempt to slow my breathing, inhaling and exhaling slowly, as I watch for my mom’s reaction across the table.
Her eyes are glassy as she picks up her half-empty wine glass, swirling the liquid around as she collects her thoughts. I detect sadness in her expression, but I can’t get an accurate read on what she’s thinking or feeling. After several moments of tense silence, she finally clears her throat and speaks. “Can’t you two justlivetogether for a while?”
That one sentence tells me everything I need to know. I get her concern, I really do. And for other people, it might make sense. But it only highlights for me our differences in opinion. She doesn’t understand the depth of Michael’s love, how intense and all-consuming it is. Or how much I return it.
I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’m supposed to be with this man. If it was up to my mom, she’d probably advise us to wait a few years.
And I’m not willing to wait any longer than I have to. Not now that I’ve found him. I’m holding on tight and never letting go.
“Mom, that’s not gonna happen—”
Michael places his hand over mine and squeezes it, halting my next words. He glances at me, eyebrows raised, and I give a slight nod of my head. Turning toward my mom, he says, “Ms. Chadwick, I’ve heard everything that you’ve said, and I respect your fears and concerns for Vivian. What I can promise you is that I’m going to take care of her. I’m going to love and cherish her all the days of my life. That—”
My mom cuts him off before he can finish. “I understand that’s what you’re meaning to do, young man—”
“That is exactly what I'mgoingto do. I don’t make promises lightly and the commitment I’m making to your daughter will never change. Regardless of anything that happens in the future, you have nothing to worry about when it comes to her. But I will not listen to my future wife being spoken to like this any longer. As her husband, it is my job to protect her and keep her from harm and distress, and right now you’re hurting her.”
His eyes flare, but he keeps his voice even.
“Vivian is going to be my wife. As far as I’m concerned, she already is; the wedding is just a formality. This is happening whether we have your approval or not. But I know my wife would really like your blessing. Please think it over.” He stands and pulls a piece of paper out from his pocket, setting it next to my mom’s plate. “This is my mother’s number. I’m sure she would love to hear from you as soon as possible. We’ll be getting married at the end of the month, and my family is already making arrangements. Please call her if you’d like a part in the planning. We’ll be going now.”
Michael steps to pull my chair out for me and helps me up. I’m shaking from all that’s happened in the last five minutes and am grateful for his steadying hand.
“I’ll call you soon, Mom,” I say, just now feeling the tears trickling down my cheeks as my body feels the impact of our argument. The hurt on my mother’s face slices through my heartlike a knife. I don’t like leaving the situation this way, but it’s going to take time for her to process. Staying here rehashing the same words over and over isn’t going to solve anything. We have the history to prove it. Best for me to leave now before I let loose things I can’t take back.
Michael guides me out of the restaurant, my sleeve pressed to my eyes to hide the tears running down my face. Only once we’ve made it to the privacy of where his car is parked do I allow the sobs to take over. My shoulders hunch over as I rock back and forth, feeling like my stomach has been ripped out of me and Michael holding me through it all.
This feels like a different kind of breakup, and I don’t know if our relationship will ever be the same again. All the pressure, the disappointment, the purewantof having my mother be happy for me—if not proud of me—washes over me in waves and I feel like breathing is too hard a task.
Michael wraps his arms around me, cocooning me between his muscular chest and the car, squeezing me tight and grounding me as I cry it all out. He strokes my hair softly, not saying a word. Just being there for me, comforting me, and pressing kisses to the crown of my head as the tears gradually slow, then stop.
When I’m finally able, I tilt my face up to him. His thumbs brush away the strands of hair sticking to my face, then softly caress the line of my jaw. “It’ll be okay, mi amor.” I appreciate that he’s not saying itisokay, because it isn’t. Not at the moment anyway. “She’ll come around.”
“I don’t know that she will.” I sniffle.
“Listen to me, amor. Your mother loves you, and it’s only natural for her not to understand this. She wants what’s best for you, and this is foreign to her, right?”
“We haven’t been on the same page in years,” I admit.
“She’ll see. She’ll learn just how much I love you. How I’m always going to be here for you, no matter what. I’m never goingto leave you, cariño.” His arms band tighter around me, as if to emphasize his words.
“What if she doesn’t?” I look up at him imploringly, wishing he could say something that will make it all better.
“Then I will be your family, just asyouare my family.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “You already have a family with me, my parents, everyone. They all love you, Vivian, just like I did when we first met.”
It never ceases to blow my mind when he tells me he loved me on sight. That such a pull could exist between two strangers. That it was real, because here we are now, planning a life together. A shiver runs through me as I’m comforted that this is really happening, and I snuggle closer into his embrace.
“We will work it out. I know it won’t always be easy, but we will figure it out together.” He lifts my chin and softly kisses my lips. My face is swollen and damp from the tears, but it doesn’t deter him. The kiss is sweet, tender; different from the man who was just defending my honor a few minutes ago, but no less passionate. As we break away, I stare into those dark, gorgeous eyes that I love so much and feel completely safe and cared for as he looks back at me.
“Now, I know just what will help.” His smile warms me inside.
“What?” I whisper, a small smile of my own creeping over my face.
“Hot chocolate. There’s that new Starbucks place just down the road. I hear their drinks are pretty good. Let’s get something sweet since we skipped dessert.” I flush, remembering the last time he mentioned having “dessert” in this context. “And then I’m going to take you home and make love to you all night long until you’re crying from orgasms instead.”
I can’t help rolling my eyes even as I grin at him. This man. He knows just what to say to make everything better. Food andhumor and sex—what else do I need? I kiss him hard. “Thank you,” I tell him.
