Page 102 of Yearn
After dinner, Teyonah took the kids upstairs and began their evening routine.
We still hadn’t had much time to talk about what we were and how this all would work out. I just knew that I would be in her bed tonight.
I would just have to wait for the kids to go to bed before sneaking back upstairs.
So to give myself something to do, I cleaned up and loaded the dishwasher.
Once done, I wiped down the stovetop and shut off the jazz.
Betty would be shocked and then laughing at me right now.
My nanny had done all the cleaning up after me.
Never did I have to wipe a thing.
When I heard Teyonah finally reading the bedtime story, I tidied the counters, stacked Tupperware with unnecessary satisfaction, and put the leftover chicken into a glass container like it was a heart we might need to revive tomorrow.
So close to being inside her.
The sink stopped dripping.
My chest felt steady and full.
And then. . .all of a sudden the fucking doorbell rang.
Huh?
I checked the time.
9:00 pm. What the fuck?
The air in my chest changed pressure.
I dried my hands on a towel, set it down, and walked to the door.
It’s too late for anybody to be showing up.
I opened the door.
NO!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!
Scott stood there in a suit the color of money, crisp enough to suggest power but pulling just a little too tight around the middle.
Papers sagged in his hand.
He was forty-nine, and it showed on his hairline that thinned on the edges and had been combed in careful lines that couldn’t hide the shine of his scalp.
For a man who made the higher side of six figures, he clearly didn’t know how to carry it well. A bit sloppy in the details: shirt collars slightly wilted by the end of the day, cufflinks chosen more for flash than taste, shoes shined just enough to pass.
Not suave.
Not refined.
But not ugly either.
He was a man who had coasted for years on the privilege of being “good enough” and the confidence to make everyone else believe it.
And right now, standing there, Scott looked less like a husband who had been lost and more like a creditor who had come to collect a great debt.
