Your Love Is King Page 15

  “All right, when were you gonna tell me about the money?”

  “I don’t know. Before we got married?”

  “What about a prenup?”

  He frowned. “I don’t want one.”

  “Come on, Chris. You can’t be serious. You’re gonna marry me without protecting your money when you didn’t even trust me enough to tell me about it?”

  “Stop saying that! I do trust you, and I’m not concerned about that money. My parents taught me long ago what’s important in life, and money ain’t it. Marli, we’re getting married, not closing some business deal. I’m not gonna ask you to sign some contract or agreement. I’ve prayed about this and I trust that God will keep us together. Divorce is not even an option as far as I’m concerned. I’m getting married to stay married. I love you, baby. Can’t you see that?”

  “Chris, I want to believe you, but—”

  “No buts, just believe me. Believe in us.”

  “Believe in us? How? If you can keep something like this from me, what’s to stop you from keeping something else from me? How do I know you don’t have another woman or something?”

  His eyes widened. “Another woman? What the hell? Where did that even come from?”

  “It came from the fact that you like to keep secrets from me.”

  “Secrets? No, secret—singular. I kept one thing from you, and I’m sorry. You just went to another level with this other woman stuff.”

  I stood to my feet. “That one thing you kept from me had a whole lotta zeros hanging off the end of it!”

  Chris stood to face me. “And I said I’m sorry! But how did we get from that to me cheating. That’s just crazy!” he said, raising his voice at me.

  I rolled my eyes. “Crazy, huh?"

  “Yes, crazy. I understand you’re upset, but you know better than that. You know I don’t have anyone else.”

  “What’s crazy is that I have no idea what you’re doing when you travel with the band. You gonna stand here and tell me that women don’t approach you, Chris?”

  “I didn’t say that. Of course they do. Women approach me all the time. But it doesn’t matter. I got what I want and that’s you, baby!”

  “So you say.”

  He threw up his hands. “Come on! Are you serious right now? You wanna know what I do when I’m on the road? I play my damn horn, eat, sleep, and talk to you on the phone. That’s it! You know that. I ain’t got no other woman, Marli.”

  “Whether you have another woman or not, you lied to me, Chris. You lied to me. I told you I can’t stand to be lied to.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, technically, it wasn’t a lie. I just withheld a fact. I never said I was broke, Marli. I said I had some money saved up, I just never said how much.”

  “No, technically, you lied.”

  I was mad and hurt. I felt betrayed and played and I needed to get out of there. So I walked over to the door, snatched it open, and left his condo. I’d made it halfway down the hall to the elevator when I realized I had no shoes on my feet, no car keys in my hand, and no idea where I was going. I stopped, leaned against the wall, and closed my eyes.

  A second later, I heard Chris’s voice. “Come back, baby. I’m sorry if I upset you. I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. I love you. Just… just come back.”

  I opened my eyes, saw the sadness in his, and sighed. “Chris, what are we doing? We’re moving way too fast. We don’t know each other well enough. This is all just too fast.”

  He leaned against the wall next to me. “Okay,” he said, “We can slow things down. We can wait and get married later. Whatever you wanna do. Let’s just get to know each other better for right now. I… I just don’t wanna lose you.” He reached for my hand. “Come back, baby.”

  I loved him, and I wanted to be with him. What was I supposed to do? I took his hand and followed him back into his condo. Once inside, I sat on the couch and buried my face in my hands. “Look, we can slow things down like you said, but I don’t wanna be shacking up here in the meantime. I should’ve never moved in here like this. I’ll just go back to my apartment.”

  He shook his head. “No, I’ll go. I’ll get a room or something if you want me to. I said this is your home, and I meant it. Stay here. I’ll go.”

  I sighed. “No, this is your home. I’ll just sleep on the sofa until we can figure this out.”

  Chris leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I’m sorry for not telling you about the money and for lying to you, but I’m glad you know now.”

  I nodded and then leaned back on the sofa and closed my eyes, signaling that I was done talking. I’d had enough conversation for one night.

  Of course Chris wouldn’t let me sleep on the couch, just as I knew he wouldn’t. I slept in the bedroom, and he took the couch. I found it hard to sleep that night. I couldn’t help but wonder what a future with Chris would actually mean. For the first time in a long time, I started to have some serious doubts about our relationship.

  Nineteen

  “It’s Only Love That Gets You Through”

  A couple of weeks later, I finally mustered up the nerve to call Carla and tell her about what was going on with Chris. I’d been hesitant to tell her, afraid to hear her say, “I told you so.” Afraid to have to confirm that she was right—we were moving too fast.

  I gave her the basic facts—he was rich and he didn’t tell me. Carla’s only response was, “Wow.” Then she asked if we could meet up during one of our breaks at work to talk. She wanted to hear everything—in detail. Of course I agreed. I needed to talk about things so that I could figure out what to do about things. We met in the cafeteria that evening and, over turkey sandwiches and weak hospital coffee, I gave her a full account of what had happened—from my discovery of the bill of sale for his truck, to the news that he was a doggone oil mogul.

  “You were right. We’ve really been rushing things, Carla,” I said.

  Carla nodded and shifted in her seat. After taking a sip of her coffee she said, “I knew you’d get around to it eventually.”

  I frowned a little. “Get around to what?”

  She sighed. "You finally figured out a way to mess things up with him. He's so good; you had to twist some stuff around just to make him seem bad. But you did it."

  I straightened my posture. "What? Are you crazy?"

  "Not now. Not today. Today, I'm very sane."

  "Then what are you talking about? He lied, Carla. He lied about something really important."

  "He didn't lie. He omitted a fact."

  I leaned forward. "No, he lied by omission. You don't do that unless you have something to hide. He hid the fact that he had money from me. No telling what else he’s hiding."

  "You don't think you deserve him. That's why you're doing this."

  "What?!" Was she out of her mind?

  "You think he's too good for you. That’s what it’s always been about with you. That’s why you settled for noncommittal booty calls instead of real relationships. That’s why you slept with every Tom, Dick, and Darius in the tri-state area. You have let what Tim did to you and all of the horrible things your parents said to you convince you that you do not deserve happiness or love. You really believe that you don’t deserve this tall, handsome, rich man. So instead of putting a freakin’ full page ad in the newspaper back home announcing that you hit the jackpot in every possible way with this man, what do you do? Your crazy ass pushes him away. I bet you even went so far as to accuse him of cheating."

  I slammed my hand down on the table, bringing attention to us, but I didn’t care. "Carla! Who do you—"

  "Who do I think I am? I’m your best friend, the friend who’s known you since elementary school. I’m the one who knows you better than anyone else in the world. I know you better than you know yourself! Yeah, I know I'm crazy. Hell, at least I can admit it. But you? You actually think what you're doing makes sense. So he didn't tell you he was rich? So-the hell-what? Can you blame him? Do you have any ide
a what it must be like to have that kind of money? Can you imagine what would happen if every woman he dated knew?"

  "We're not dating. We're engaged," I said through my teeth.

  "And you’re sitting over there with the Rock of Gibraltar on your doggone finger. You should be on your knees right now thanking Jesus and God and all of the angels in Heaven that this man pursued you and wooed you and showed you what real love is, because we both know that wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am-dang-you-pregnant-so-I-guess-we’ll-get-married relationship you had with Tim was not love."

  I closed my eyes, tried to calm myself. "Carla—"

  "As a matter of fact, you should be doing a holy dance right now. And then, after that, you need to pass out in the spirit. And after that, you need to run—not walk—to the altar with him.”

  “You were the one who asked if we were rushing things!”

  “I was wrong that day, but not today.”

  “Carla,” I said calmly, “We were literally a day away from getting married and he still hadn’t told me about his money."

  She rolled her eyes. "But he did tell you."

  "Only after I pressed the issue."

  "And he doesn't even want a prenup! He’s a good man, Marli! Come on! What is it? Does he just like thick girls? Shoot, let me gain some weight and take him off your hands. I'll show you exactly how to handle this situation."

  My eyes narrowed. "Carla, you done crossed the damn line, now. You're talking about the man I love."

  Carla stood from the table. "Then act like it."

  And with that, she flounced out of the cafeteria.

  For the rest of my shift, I was troubled by Carla's words. She'd been harsh and blunt with me. But as the night wore on, I came to realize there was some validity to what Carla had said. Maybe I was sabotaging this relationship on purpose. But what was I going to do to fix it?

  ~*~

  The next morning after I made it home from work, I couldn't sleep. So while Chris left for his daily workout, I cooked him a big, country breakfast and as soon as I heard the front door close signaling his return home, I called for him.

  "Yeah, baby?" he answered as he walked into the kitchen. When he saw the spread I’d prepared for him, his face lit up.

  “This looks good, baby. You did all this for me?”

  I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around him as I reached up and planted a soft kiss on his lips. “Yes. Just for you.”

  He smiled down at me. “Well, what did I do to deserve this?”

  “Nothing. It’s my way of apologizing. I’m sorry. I… I guess I overreacted about the whole money thing. I just… I just wish you’d told me sooner.”

  He nodded. “I know. I really am sorry about that. I’ll never do anything like that again.”

  I smiled up at him. “Good. Come on so we can eat. I have something else to tell you.”

  He took a seat at the table, reached for a plate, and looked up at me. “Well, one thing’s for sure, I know you’re not gonna tell me you’re pregnant.”

  I laughed. “No, I wanna get married tomorrow.”

  He sprung up from the table and hugged me tightly.

  “Are you for real, baby?” he asked.

  I closed my eyes and squeezed him tightly. “Yeah, I am. I love you, and I’m more than ready to marry you. I traded with someone, so I’m going in to work again tonight. I’ll be off tomorrow night, instead, for the honeymoon.”

  He grinned. “Oh, yeah, the honeymoon. Thank you, baby. You just made my day—hell, you just made my life! I’ma go call my folks right now.”

  “Okay,” I said and watched him jog into the living room.

  He returned a few minutes later with instructions from his mother to report to his parents’ house immediately after we left the courthouse. His father would marry us after we got the marriage license. We spent the rest of the day talking and planning. Honeymoon in New York—Broadway and shopping, and maybe a European cruise after that. It was, hands down, one of the happiest days of my life.

  ~*~

  “How’s work?” Chris asked.

  “Busy as ever. I miss you. Can’t wait to be Mrs. Christopher King,” I said.

  “Miss you, too, baby, and I can’t wait to be your husband. You know what else?”

  “No, what?”

  “I can’t wait to get you in that honeymoon suite. My daddy says that sex is a gift for marriage. I can’t wait to unwrap my present tomorrow. Girl, I’ma put it on you!”

  I giggled. “You better not be playing.”

  “Baby, when I get done with you, you ain’t never gonna want to leave my bed again. I promise you that.”

  I lowered my voice as a coworker passed by. “I could say the same thing, Chris. I got a few tricks up my sleeve, you know.”

  “Damn, really, baby?”

  “Really.”

  “Well, let me go run some laps or lift some weights or something so I’ll be prepared.”

  “You might wanna drink a protein shake, too.”

  “Girl, you keep talking like that and I’ma bring my dad up there and marry you tonight! You know how long I’ve been dreaming about this? How much longer is your shift?”

  “Six hours.”

  “I’m counting down.”

  “Me, too. Let me get off of this phone and get back to work. I love you.”

  “Love you, too. Call me if you get another break.”

  “Okay.”

  I was smiling as I hung up the phone. I sat there in the break room for a few minutes and thought about how blessed I was to have Chris in my life. I was so thankful and so happy that I almost couldn’t believe it. It almost seemed unreal to be that much in love.

  I didn’t get to bask in my happiness for long, though. As soon as I stepped foot back into the ER, I was called into one of the trauma rooms to assist with a child who’d been brought in by his mother.

  The child was in respiratory arrest. I especially hated to see children in distress, but as usual, I sucked it up and hurriedly walked into the trauma room. I approached the gurney to relieve one of the other nurses, Pam. “What’s his status?” I asked.

  “Eight-year-old asthmatic. Evidently, he had an asthma attack and the mother took some time trying out different inhalers only to find them all empty. By the time she got him here, he was in full respiratory arrest,” said Pam.

  I looked down at the little boy and shook my head. “Poor kid.”

  Pam nodded. “Yeah. Dr. Price is livid. You know how he is about kids. I’m sure he’s gonna call child services once we get him stabilized.”

  “He should.”

  I pushed air into his lungs with the Ambu bag and said a silent prayer for him. He was pale, brown-skinned with a mass of curly, black hair on his head. His keen nose and thin lips told me that he was probably of mixed race. As I studied him, I noticed something oddly familiar about him. He reminded me of someone…

  “Hold on!” Dr. Price shouted. “Stop bagging him. He’s coughing.”

  I’d been so engrossed in my own thoughts about the boy that I hadn’t noticed him coughing. I stopped bagging him and sure enough, he was breathing on his own. They were ragged breaths, but they were breaths nonetheless. I smiled and let out the breath I didn’t even realized I was holding. Dr. Price leaned over the boy and opened his eyes to check his pupils. It was then that I realized why the child seemed so familiar to me. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue.

  Dr. Price announced that the child’s pupils were equal and reactive and then ordered for someone to get him an ICU bed. I looked over at Pam who held the child’s chart.

  “What’s his name?” I asked softly.

  Pam gave me a confused look. “Who? The kid?”

  “Yeah, what’s his name?”

  “Okay, calm down. Let’s see.” She flipped through the chart. “Uh, Russell C. King.”

  “Okay, um, I’ll be right back.” I popped the gloves off of my hands and headed toward the nurses’ station.

  Be
hind me, Pam yelled something about calling upstairs for a bed for the boy. I was headed to the phone, but I knew the ICU wouldn’t be the first place I called. I picked up the receiver, but before I could dial Chris’s number, a woman approached the desk with a frantic look on her face.

  “Ma’am, you were in there with my baby. Is he all right?”

  I looked up at her and laid the phone down. “Um, he’s stable. I’m getting ready to call for him a bed. He’s gonna have to go to ICU.”