She toys with her food. She has barely eaten despite knowing how I feel about food wastage.
“Eat.” I command albeit in a soft tone.
She stares at me for a minute or two, her mind working fast. Finally, she takes her plate and begins munching on her fries. I let out a sigh of relief. For a moment I thought she would lash at me.
Watching her eat turns me on. I want to place her on this table and have her until she screams my name but I can’t. I want to mark her. To remind her that she belongs to me and nobody else. She is my mate. My life. Tonight she is miles away and I have to bring her back to me. Back to our reality.
“You are quiet.”
She continues eating like I never said a word. My temper is rising and I am struggling to reign it. I’m not ruining this night for both of us. No. Not today.
“Listen… If you don’t talk to me, how will I know that you are okay?”
She looks at me, holding my gaze for two minutes or so before going back to eating. I run my hands through my hair, a gesture I am familiar with when I am extremely exasperated. These walls are up again and I am bound to break them.
Tonight. Our operation can go fuck itself if need be.
I have no appetite but I can’t risk wasting this food. I know how she feels about food wastage. The fries are so delicious and it’s such a shame that my ravenous self took a vacation today, leaving in it’s place a fussy, sassy diva who doesn’t understand the importance of good food.
Truth be told, I am nervous.
My test results came back positive and I don’t know how to break this to her. How will I do it? Where will I start? Is she ready to commit to me as a parent? Already running a whole covern of withches is work enough and I don’t want to add more on her plate. It’s full. I desperately try to think of an escape route but find none. She won’t let me go easily. That’s the disadvantage of being mated to a leader. They push until they get what they want from you.
I unconsciously reach for my belly. I am 2 months pregnant yet I’m already acting like a soon to be mom. Wait, I am a soon to be mom. Nine years of being without a child makes nine months look like two days.
I am finally going to be a mother. We are going to be parents. I know how she’s wanted a child ever since we got married and the thought gets to me so much that I end up crying. She arches a questioning brow before taking me in her arms, gently stroking my hair and whispering in my ear. I bawl endlessly, soaking her shirt with my tears, snorting but she doesn’t care. We both don’t care.
“Nita… Baby. Talk to me. What’s wrong?” She gently purrs. Her eyes glow in the semi darkness. I can feel the animal in her. It’s excited, mad, anxious, angry and worried at the same time.
“You might as well as be a big girl and save us from this predicament Nita.” My sub conscious rebukes me in a snippy tone.
The bitch. Smh.
“Hey. .. I am… We are… I… I…”
“Nita, are you okay?”
“Yes. Yes. I am. Just a little bit emotional of late.”
“Girl, you scared the shit out of me.” She whispers into my hair.
“I know. I am sorry.” I pad across the room to light myself a cigarette before coming back and hugging her from behind, taking in her scent; a familiar mixture of lavendar and ice. I love this girl so much there isn’t a single thing I wouldn’t do for her. Well, apart from acting a fool for her you know?
“Nita. If there is something that is troubling, you might as well as spit it out. The boys and I got some parcel we have to deliver tonight and I want to make sure we are okay before I leave this place.
I feel her pain. Beneath that hardcore gangster demeanour that is part of her is a soft person who always wants the best for her mate. Losing her parents at an early age, she had to raise herself alone and I understand the overprotectiveness in as much as it can be infuriating sometimes. I kiss her on the neck, gently nibbling on her earlobe before whispering in her ear.
“I am pregnant. We are going to have a cub”
She goes unnaturally still in my arms.
© Nyar Afrika 2018.