Love UnExpected (Love's Improbable Possibility)

by Love Belvin

  “No. Don’t cry. This isn’t a reason to cry. Are you okay?”

  After a few seconds I murmured, “I don’t know if I can be what you need. You’ve been so good to me…so patient and kind. And I’ve been moving at a pace that makes me wonder if I’m fooling you…or me. I don’t want to hurt you,” I whimpered through my tears.

  He was silent and I didn’t know what that meant.

  “I’m depleted. I don’t know how to pursue, let alone, maintain a relationship—intimate or platonic. You deserve someone who can. You deserve so much more.” My cry went from weeping to all out bawling as I realized I’d betrayed myself. I told Azmir what my biggest fear was concerning him.

  “Hold on…wait…wait,” he comforted as he rose from the seat taking me with him. He gently let me onto my feet then wiggled out of his shorts, lifted me in his arms again and walked me back into the apartment leaving the gorgeous view of the marina and the whispering bliss of our lovemaking back on the patio.

  He ushered me into the master bathroom, letting me down on the floor. Azmir stepped in the shower to turn it on. After that, he began removing my lingerie. He pulled his black T-shirt over his head before leading me in the shower. I stood in front of him as the water sprinkled down onto my body. I then felt the soft scraping of the body scrubber being applied to my back. Then to my shoulders. He worked his way down to my feet before cleaning the front of my body. He let me wash my private areas while he washed himself. When I glanced over my shoulder to look at him, his eyes fell down to the floor.

  What in the hell does that mean? Once again I’m lost for perception.

  Once we were done, he reached over me with his long arms, turned the water off and went out to retrieve a towel that he wrapped around me then led me out. Azmir grabbed another towel to quickly dry himself and then wrapped it around his waist. He took the towel from around me and dried me from neck to toe.

  When he was done and had wrapped the towel around my shoulders, “When I spent time in juvie I told myself that I would not be violated. I came up against a few brutal contenders but always triumphed, even if it were by the skin of my teeth. I also told myself that I would never return. I’m still a free man. About a week after my release, I told myself that I would never be poor again and that I would work so hard that I would have multiple businesses, giving me an empire. I think I’m at sixteen now…and steadily increasing. I told myself that if I found the right woman I’d pursue her endlessly and give her the world that I’ve abound. Weeks later you showed up in my boardroom requesting space on my property. I don’t make promises to myself that I can’t keep, Ms. Brimm.” He kissed me on the side of my head. I was at a loss for words.

  “I’m not a very patient man. I do apologize for that. I’ve applied pressure that you’re not comfortable with. I’ll slow down but will not stop until you’re mine. But it must be your choice,” Azmir spoke with conviction as we both gazed at each other through the massive vanity mirror.

  “What irony, that the one thing I desperately want and am vigorously pursuing doesn’t think she’s enough. I’ve amassed $439 million in three years, all on gut intuition and knowing my opponents. I make no mistakes in acquisitions. I seriously doubt if that’ll start here.” His glaring through the mirror into my eyes said so much that ears couldn’t hear.

  It was in that moment that I knew indisputably that I had to work on me. I had to repair my broken spirit. I had to learn to be emotionally sound and independent. I had to learn how to trust people and be loved. I couldn’t receive what this man was offering because I knew none of it.

  “Come. Let’s go to bed. It’s late,” he ordered.

  We retreated to his bedroom and I asked, “Can I borrow a T-shirt? Since I’ve soiled my only lingerie here…”

  He squinted his eyes then let out a hint of a smirk. “In the third drawer from the top of the first set to the left.”

  I trotted over into the enormous walk-in closet and located the drawer. As I pulled it out, attractive feminine colors popped out. I saw purples, pinks, soft blues, ivories and all in different fabrics. There was lace and silk. I couldn’t believe he brought these for me and stored them at his place, further illustrating his desire for me to move in.

  Hmmmmm… I went to the next drawer to find his underwear neatly folded and arranged by color. His cleaning lady does a hell of a job organizing. I opened the next drawer and found crisp white crew neck T-shirts. I quickly grabbed one.

  When I returned to the bedroom I stood at my side of the bed as Azmir took inventory of my attire. “This is perfect!” I exclaimed like a goofy schoolgirl and jumped into bed not giving him a chance to respond. He turned off the only light that was on then immediately scooted over to me draping his long and warm arm over me, buried his face into the back of my neck and exhaled.

  There’s that current. Damn. I hope he didn’t feel my body jolt.

  “Azmir, what was the name of that song you sang to me earlier?” I had to know.

  “Mmmmmmm…” he hummed trying to regain consciousness from the sleep that was falling upon him. “Moody’s Mood for Love. Quincy Jones,” he murmured into my neck.

  Damn current!

  Hmmmmmm… “That wasn’t Quincy singing on it…” I quizzed.

  “Nah. That was Brian McKnight, Take 6 and Rachelle Ferrell.”

  “It was beautiful,” I whispered. “What made you select that song?” Again, I had to know. I’d never seen him so relaxed and spirited as I did during his performance.

  He backed his head from my neck.

  Shit. Did I screw this up again?

  “Because it exemplifies how I feel about you. My pops would sing it almost every night to my mom when I was a kid. Frankie Crocker used to sign off to the original version every night on a New York City radio station. My dad said one day I’d sing it to a woman who captured my heart like my mom did his. I like Quincy’s rendition. I’ve liked it for years. Finally, I can sing it with conviction…because I get it.”

  I couldn’t cry any more tears in front of this man, though they were impending. Although the words easily flowed from his tongue, I had no doubt that they were sincere. I envied that. I wanted the ability to express my convictions so boldly and with such ease.

  “Azmir…?” I called out to him, though I knew he was listening. “I want the courage to sing Rachelle’s lines to you. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

  There! Not so bad. Butterflies were still invading my belly, but I fought through it.

  “I know, baby. And I can’t wait,” he whispered in my neck and wiggled until he was well nestled.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  I heard the sound of an alarm. It played and played and played before I lifted my head.

  Damn.

  It was my phone, which meant it was time for me to get up and start my day. I hated leaving Azmir’s bed, it was so contenting, generous in space, warm and inviting. I reached over and silenced my phone then turned to peak over at Azmir who, miraculously, was sound asleep after the thunderous sound going off. So was Azna, who managed to get in the bed at some point during the night. Azmir’s bed was a few feet from the floor. Azmir must have put him up here. Azna looked like a ball of fur.

  I turned back to the fine specimen of a man just inches away from me. He appeared beautiful and alluring, even in his sleep. I rested my head on the fluffy pillow once more and counted to ten, something I often did to help wake up. I then crawled out of bed and tiptoed in the bathroom where I brushed my teeth and washed my face. I searched for all of my belongings from the night before like my underwear, camisole and jewelry. We were primal in here just a few hours ago and it’s evident. If I were a mistress and his wife unexpectedly showed up to find this morning disarray we’d be busted.

  As I headed back into the bedroom Azmir was sitting up in bed, nude from the neck to the waist, petting Azna. “Why are you up so early? It’s not even six,” he spoke in his extra-baritone morning voice. His voice was sexy even first thing in
the morning.

  Focus, Rayna!

  “I have to get to work, Mr. Jacobs,” I reminded him.

  “Not until eight.”

  I furrowed my eyebrows in jest. “I have things to do before work.”

  “Such as…?”

  He’s being nosey. “I workout…if you must know.”

  “Stay with me. Boyd should be here any minute. We can have breakfast first then head to the rec to workout before work. You can shower there.”

  “Mr. Jacobs, I can’t. I don’t have clothes here.”

  “Ah-ha! Therein lies the problem. Here’s a solution: move in. It’s a simple issue of geography.” He ended with the panty snatching smirk. He is so sexy! Oh my…! “Stay and I’ll start my breakfast in here and then we can burn off the first few hundred calories…in here.” He patted the bed.

  I smiled shyly as I processed his proposal. “As tempting as that sounds, I can’t. I’m going home to workout. I’ll take Azna with me. He has a vet appointment on my lunch.”

  He rose from the bed and strolled over to me oozing sex. When he reached out to touch me, I flinched as I held my arm out.

  “Don’t,” I pleaded harsher than I intended. He paused with a slight look of hurt and disappointment in his face. “Azmir, if you touch me we both know that I’ll succumb to your sexual prowess. Starting today, I am on a new path. Amongst many things, I’m trying to learn how to communicate with my mouth, remember that?”

  There. Nice start of this journey, Rayna!

  Azmir formed a seductive growler expression with his mouth. Does he do this to me on purpose?

  “But you can use your mouth to communicate this morning.”

  I gave him a maternal glare to let him know that I was adamant.

  I grabbed Azna and headed for the bedroom door. Out of nowhere, the music from the night before started to play in my head halting my stride. I did an about-face back towards him, putting my bag on the floor but keeping Azna in my left arm. I reached up to grab Azmir’s face, pulled it down towards mine and gave him the most passionate kiss I’m sure I’ve ever given a man. I moved with inspiration and hope…hope for us…hope for me. His mouth was warm, tasting so promising and innocent. He was delicious even before brushing his teeth. I was in love with this man and had plans to show him. I finally withdrew my tongue, then lips knowing that at any second I could end up back in his bed.

  Taking a step back, I read his expression. He was lost, but he enjoyed it. I exhaled deeply and murmured, “Good day, Mr. Jacobs.”

  He said nothing, just continued to search my eyes.

  On the way out I saw the cleaning lady bringing Azmir’s clothes in from the balcony. Shit! Does she know that they’re soiled…with me? I shook my head of the thought. I had another long day to face. I couldn’t waste my time worrying about that. And I was off to start my day. A new day.

  While working out I fell into introspective thinking.

  I’d meant every word I’d said to Azmir. I needed to work on me. Since my return from Jersey I couldn’t help but be haunted by my issues of trust and feeling unworthy of love. I didn’t want to do to Azmir what I’d done to Michelle, I didn’t want to fail his faith in me. I didn’t want to live or die alone. I felt empty and confused. Worst of all, I didn’t know where to turn to repair myself. Azmir was great but he was not a solution. I didn’t want to seek refuge or healing from a human being. I also didn’t want to put too much into one person. I needed help to accept Azmir, not make him some focal point or a sole reason to better myself.

  One of my patients, Mary, would always come in talking about her church and the love of Christ, all of the typical and annoying banter of a holy roller who felt that Jesus was the answer for everything. Mary would always boast of her church, and of course, give the proverbial invitation time and time again. Suddenly, I recalled those patients that would come to the church as though it was a hospital when I was a child. I had become one of those sick people. No, I didn’t have substance abuse issues, neither had I been in prison. But my heart had been imprisoned by fear. I so desperately wanted to free myself of the strongholds that were on me. I decided before leaving my place for work that I would call Mary and finally accept her invitation to church.

  It was that simple for me. I had to start somewhere.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  I’m at Smith, Katz & Adams headquarters for a breakfast staff meeting. I always got nervous during them and I thought it was because subconsciously, I knew I was not necessarily there based on my own merits but that of Michelle’s…and most recently Azmir’s unleashing of his voracious attorney. Ever since his involvement, I’d been rolled out the red carpet by the practice. I couldn’t lie, the feeling was extraordinary.

  “Morning, folks,” Dan Smith opened the agenda as everyone hurried off the food line and back into their seats to start the meeting. I was too nervous to eat—waiting for the other shoe to fall.

  “Well, gang, it’s my personal misfortune to have to inform you that we lost John Ephart two days ago. He succumbed to a heart attack while away in Palm Springs.” There were countless gasps and mutters in the room.

  Okay, so everyone is just as shocked as I am.

  I withdrew for a minute, reflecting on my encounters with John Ephart. He was always a pleasant man when the leasing deal in Long Beach was underway. He didn’t interfere much; only when asked. I recalled him patting me on the shoulders afterwards in the parking lot. He didn’t say much other than “Great work, kiddo!” but it meant a lot to my raw nerves that were still settling.

  Not another passing. Naturally, my thoughts ventured to Michelle. No death would ever compare to that loss. Snap out of it. Not here. Not now.

  “We have a new law practice in place,” Dan continued. “He’s eager to get started. He and his team need to meet with all the therapists…including you, Rayna, there in Long Beach. In fact, I recommended that he start with you as you’re most familiar with all the locations and system considering your tenure with us. His name is Brian Thompson…” blah…blah was all I heard after that. Why would he start with me? The meeting was uneventful after that announcement. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

  Work was busy per usual after the full staff meeting. That was the great thing about my job, I enjoyed it so much that I easily became engulfed and before I knew it, it was my lunch hour or time to leave for the day. But along with time would go my energy. I’d brought Azna into work with me so that I could conveniently get him to the vet for an evaluation and shots. I felt like this was a test run at parenting. Ewwwwww…I don’t like the idea of that. I could never be a mom. I don’t think I’m built for it. Besides I don’t think it’s in the cards for me anyway. I quickly thought to myself considering my loss of fetus recently.

  My fearful thoughts were interrupted by an alert for a text.

  Your departure left me wounded…and hanging. I don’t want to get used to that. I’ll buy your house. Just give me a fair price.

  He is so sweet. The thought of his generous offer warmed me. Oh, Azmir, only if things were that simple.

  Don’t you have bigger acquisitions to take on, Mr. Jacobs? Sidebar: when’s the next time I’ll see you? I’d like to make up for leaving you hanging. I can even lick your wound(s) if it would make you feel better.

  I can make myself available in 5 mins but that would be indecorous. If you shared my bed this wouldn’t be an issue. Sidebar: Tonight?

  Damn. Tonight wouldn’t work. I have - don’t laugh - church.

  CHURCH? When did the halo appear? I missed it amongst the whips andchains. He teased.

  I know. It’s me trying something new to help cure my…issues.

  Indeed. Just don’t let them convince you that my bed isn’t undefiled. Azmir quipped.

  Oh, they’d probably submerge me in the baptism pool if they had privy to what you do to me in your bed and out. I couldn’t resist my twisted humor. I had to snicker to myself.

  Until the next time you’re in my bed (wh
ere I just might chain you to keep you there)…He replied. My breathing hitched.

  Until then… (you wouldn’t dare!)I ended our exchange.

  Church wasn’t too bad. We learned about purpose. We were even assigned “A Purpose Driven Life”, something I’d started reading immediately and found myself engulfed in during the first sit down. It was the perfect start to my journey, my self-discovery. It reminded me that my world was bigger than just me. That there was a Guider, a Being bigger and stronger than myself Who wanted to be depended on to fill me. The one thing that struck me is how Warren said God didn’t intend for us to live like the Monks in isolation. He wants us to commune together because somehow we helped each other grow and develop.

  That was my biggest fear: depending on people. I’d come to depend on my solitude. It was a protective barrier. But I also knew that it was no longer working for me. For so many years that barrier only included virtually one person. That person is no longer with me, had left me bereft. That loss demonstrated that I couldn’t put my all into one person. I needed to put more substance into myself. I also needed something bigger than me to lean on. I couldn’t wait until the following week’s Bible study to explore the principles of the book.

  In the meantime, I’d learned that the pastor of the church was a licensed therapist. I found it odd how I immediately felt drawn to his teaching persona. He was gentle and full of hope, solutions, and encouragement. Pastor Edmonson was a middle-aged Caucasian man who was enthralled by his beautiful wife, who so happened to be African American. They worked as a team that night and I was captivated by how they gelled. I wanted that with another human being. I’d suddenly felt overwhelmed by the concept of the journey to get to a point in a relationship where I could flow seamlessly with a man that way. I made note of the church’s website and decided to explore it for more information. Perhaps counseling would be a great assist for me during this period of evolution. I sure was desperate for change.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  It was a late Saturday morning and I was in my spare bedroom that I’d managed to turn into a makeshift dance room. I had mini-speakers spread throughout the room and nailed to the walls. I even threw up a few mirrors to give me reflection. I’d been dancing on Saturdays to keep my mind. It wasn’t like I had the demanding life that I used to.