Blinking, I focused on him again. “Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” I turned and continued prepping Elle’s healthy tray, and then we made our way back into the living room.
***
“Marcus, Elle fell asleep. Maybe you should lay her down in my bedroom. We can sleep out here.” Marcus nodded, grabbed Elle, and carried her off into my room.
We had watched two of the three movies, much to Marcus’s displeasure. As the screen played, my mind drifted off into another direction during the movie. I was there physically, sitting beside Marcus as his arm was draped around my shoulder. I even nodded a few times when Elle made a comment about a character and laughed when she did. Still, mentally my mind was engaged with thoughts that Marcus had brought back to life.
Of course, I hadn’t forgotten about the miscarriage. It was a subject that I had learned to tuck away in the back of my mind and no longer think about it: an out-of-sight, out-of-mind type of ordeal. When it had been brought back to surface, it felt as if I had been smacked head first into a concrete wall—a throbbing pain that was so brutal I couldn’t recover from it.
The miscarriage was not the only memory that flashed through my mind throughout the night. I thought about everything that had happened prior to and following the miscarriage, about the way my life had evolved within a few short months of knowing Marcus, and how a brief random meeting at Club21 started it all. If I had met him at his office instead, would we have still fallen in love? Would we have followed the same exact path that led us to where we are now? Would we have suffered with the constant arguments, the lies, the betrayal, and the heart-aching memories of losing one another? Would it all have been the same?
My mind ran back through how it had all played out: finding the file in his office with the information about my brother, the miscarriage, and the pain and confusion I dealt with for weeks from loving someone who I hated at the same time. I hated that I fell madly in love with him so quickly and when I wanted to be angry with him I couldn’t because he had a power over me that no one ever had.
You can’t help who you fall in love with. Yet I had fallen in love with a man that most women would run away from. Even after finding out about it all—his lifestyle, his involvement with the mafia, his knowledge of my brother’s death, and the constant lies—I fell in love with this man who had turned my world upside down in such a short period of time. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stay away, and I would never walk away again.
“Mia, come here.” Slightly turning my head, I stared at Marcus sitting on the sofa. I hadn’t heard him walk back into the room. Absentmindedly I stood, making my way toward him as the vision of him became a blur. The tears building up in my eyes forced me back to reality. I desperately tried to fight them from running down my face. I strained, held my breath, hell, I even focused on the collar of Marcus’s shirt, but it all failed. By the time I reached him, the tears wouldn’t stop.
Marcus pulled me in to sit on his lap. I positioned myself so that I was straddling him. With my head lowered, I fidgeted with my fingers. Tilting his head aside, he ducked under so that he could get a better look at me. I chanced a quick glance his way. Marcus had a worried look in his eyes, “Baby, what’s wrong?” he whispered.
“Nothing.” My throat was low and hoarse.
With the tip of his fingers, he lifted my chin to fully look at him. “Mia, why are you crying? Simba didn’t kill his father. It was his evil Uncle Scar who did.”
Laughing once, I nudged his shoulder and sniffed a few times. “I’m not crying about the movie.”
“So if you’re not crying about the movie, it has to be about something else. Tell me. What’s wrong?”
Letting out a shaky breath, I pressed my lips together before responding, “I was thinking about the last four months.” Shaking my head, I looked at him. “All of it, Marcus: my brother, our baby, and us. I thought I could lock it away in my head and not think of it again, but it’s easier said than done.”
“What are you saying exactly? Are you having doubts about us?” His eyes searched my face, trying to find meaning behind it all.
“No, I’m not at all. What you said in the kitchen about me making an amazing mother hit me hard. It brought me right back to the miscarriage, and all the pain resurfaced again. Then I began thinking about everything else, and my mind just . . .” I waved my hands in circular motions, trying to find the right words.
He grabbed my face, and with an unreadable expression, he stared at me for quite some time. “You will make an amazing mother one day. You will have a beautiful baby boy or girl that will love you and look at you as if you’re the most perfect person in the world. I know that losing our baby left a scar that you feel may never be healed, but it will, Mia. Trust me. One day you will have a child, and I hope and pray that you have that child with me.”
Swallowing the large lump in my throat, I sniffed, “You still want to have children in the future?”
Shock registered in his expression. “You’re my life, and I wouldn’t dream of a life without you being my wife and having my kids.”
“I love you, Marcus. I really do, but I don’t think . . .”
“Mia, I get it.” He caressed his thumbs along my cheeks. “You deserve better than me. I put you through so much.”
“Marcus, you’re perfect for me in every way imaginable.”
Breathing out a smile with no sign of humor, he said, “That’s crazy talk.”
Shaken by his response, I reached for his face to get his full attention. “No, it’s not.” Leaning my forehead against his, I whispered, “Before you, my life was filled with loneliness. I struggled each day to get by. I wasn’t happy. So as crazy as this may sound to you,” I lightly shrugged, “it’s not to me. I’m completely in love with you, Marcus. Ever since I met you, I’ve found a purpose in my life that makes each day worth living.”
There was a whirlpool of emotions clouding his eyes: love, lust, pain, and desire. Gripping the back of my head, he pulled me in, crushing his lips against mine. There was so much passion behind that kiss. All of the love we had for each other poured into one magical kiss that left us breathing heavily. Our tongues twirled in soft circular motions as his hands gripped my face to pull me in closer. My arms wrapped around his neck as my fingers gripped his hair. That was the first night that we ever showed our affection for one another without the urgency of sex. He kissed and held me, allowing me to pour out all my love for him in one simple kiss.