Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“I punched you in the face the first time you talked to me about this. Now I’m giving you tips.”
I smile wider. “The world’s a strange place.”
“Think about it,” he says. “She spent so long wondering if it could be real, if it could ever work. Now everybody will see it working. Everybody will know. I think that will mean a lot to her. I know it will.”
“This means a lot to me,” I say. “You and me, sitting here, talking, able to sit here and talk. Able to put all that dark stuff behind us. I never thought we’d get back to this place.”
“Neither did I.”
“But Eva brought us together,” I go on. “Just like she did the first time. I had no friends before she introduced us, except for her. I was so obsessed with work. Then she told me, ‘I’ve met this guy. He’s as obsessed with his work as you are with yours.’ You remember how she used to emphasize certain words?”
Adam chuckles. “She could say the same sentence a thousand different ways.”
“Exactly, and that’s what she did.”
“I know she’s going to say yes,” Adam says. “And I know it’s going to be the happiest moment of her life. I know something else, too.”
I wait, and he goes on, “You’ll never let anything happen to her.”
I think of that grimy building, my woman on the mattress, the fury boiling through me.
“Never.”
On the way to the show, I think about the night Adam played the video for us.
We’d stayed at Harper’s apartment since we didn’t want to disrespect Adam by doing anything in his house. We struggled to keep our hands from each other, the obsession expanding with his blessing until there was no way we could’ve fought it. After we’d had sex, Harper on top, riding me hypnotically, she lay in my arms. I leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
“I love you,” I whispered.
She gasped in her cute way, then looked up at me. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me. And don’t look so shocked. I’ve loved you for over a year.”
She shuffled up the bed, resting her arms on my chest so she could look directly into my eyes. “Yeah, well, I’ve loved you a whole lot longer.”
We’ve said it every day since then, multiple times a day, often multiple times during a conversation. It spills out of us with the force of truth, solidifying our relationship each time we say it.
At the show, I take the VIP line and show the man at the door my ticket. It was an honor to help finance this show, assist in booking the venue, doing what I always will…
Lifting my woman up, supporting her to chase her dreams. She was so giddy when she watched the ticket page fill up.
“I think we’ve gone viral,” she said, skipping across the bedroom to me.
Walking to my section, I sit down, looking up at the stage.
Soon, the room is full. People are drawn to the show to hear more about the terrible thing that happened to my woman—the evil thing she’s turning into something good, a positive from the deepest darkness.
She looks dignified in her stylish buttoned-up shirt, her hair bound up in a bun. The lights shine off her flushed cheeks. As she walks across the stage, I have to stop myself from studying the crowd, from analyzing if anybody is as obsessed with her perfect form as I am.
Does that make me jealous? Maybe it does, and I’ll never stop. She’s mine. Just as I’m hers.
It’s a gift to watch my woman onstage, her voice only warbling here and there, as she banters with Tiffany, and then gets into the darkness of her story.
“My boyfriend saved me,” she says, shooting me a secret look. “He charged in there and…”
As she speaks, I relive it, knowing I’d do it all over again. Knowing I’d never let anything happen to her, just like Adam said.
At the end, people line up to ask questions. Harper gives me a look as I approach the stage, a slight tilt to her head. I don’t have it in me to smirk back or do anything other than take slow, even breaths and summon my courage.
We’ve talked about this. She’s told me she wants it, but that doesn’t change how important this moment is and doesn’t reduce its size. When I reach the front of the line, an employee hands me the microphone. I clench it way too hard, and then I look at the stage, at my angel under the spotlight, at the glistening of her eyes.
I remember all we’ve been through, from the first touch in the car to the not-a-date at the pizza joint, to the terrible things those men tried to do. The finally-a-date, the first time we had sex…