#tbitbedit

She had dreamed of this day for months, Where the invisible string between them would become shorter and shorter and their hearts would reunite as one. It was always a fairytale in her eyes; he’d come to her desparate and weeping for her forgiveness and they’d ride off into the sunset with dopey smiles on their faces, drunk off the love they had for one another. 

It was quite the opposite. They sat at opposite ends of her elongated dining room table, fiddling with the delicate wine glasses that held a dangerous amount of sweet red wine that she’d refilled twice more since his arrival. For them to be so uncomfortable in each other’s presence was so unlike them. It drove her mad. 

The silence was deafening and could cut the tension like a sharped-bladed knife. Cleotha wrapped her hand around the body of the glass and brought it to her lips, “What brought you here, Joe?” Her words were muffled from the glass, but he heard her loud and clear. 

Joe’s jaw clenched as he thought long and hard about his answer. Nothing that he said would matter regardless of how he tried to phrase it. Simply put, he was scared. But, he knew she wouldn’t hear that. They were so in love and he proposed to her. If he was scared, he would’ve broken it off sooner than later. But, it wasn’t that he was scared of commitment or being together with her forever, he doubted his ability to be the best life partner he could be. 

His parents’ relationship wasn’t successful; hell, they left him an orphan. There was no guidance on how to be a good man let alone a good partner and soon-to-be husband. So, as he explained to her, “I panicked.” 

Cleotha Jean was not easily amused, but his response drew a chuckle from her. Her tired eyes held no life. “Panicked? About what, Joe? I-I-I’m not understanding. We were together for almost 3 years and you panic weeks after our engagement, call off the wedding, then show up at my house months later just to say you panicked?” 

Joe inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. She was upset and rightfully so. But, the harshness of her words made him want to crawl into a hole and stay there. It was deeper than she thought. Yet, being the emotionally intelligent person she worked to be, Cleotha took note of how he retreated further into his seat and sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. But, Joe, I just…panicked for what?” 

He panicked. She hurt. She’d lay in bed at night and pray that God would mend the heart she’d feel break like rock to a window. She’d writhe in pain, begging for him to return. He panicked while she suffered. 

“I got in my head, Cleo,” he said shortly. “You have both parents in your life and your father loves your mother more than words can describe. He’s a good man, a good father, and a good husband. I never had that example. I freaked out. I don’t have parents, I don’t have an example of what a good husband should be. The last thing I wanted to do was take this huge step and failing you as a husband. That kind of weight either makes or breaks a person…and it broke me. And I’m sorry for putting you through that.” 

Cleotha’s lips twisted as she fought the lump that formed in her throat. She sought for any form of dishonesty or lack of truth in his eyes, but all she saw was a plea for forgiveness. One more chance, he begged silently.

“It might take forever and a day for you to forgive me, but…I can’t do life without you, Cleo. I tried and I’ve been so miserable. Words can’t make up for anything, but I want to start over.” 

And the question became, would she agree? 

-

“A little to the left, baby,” she said, hands pressed against the small of her back as she waddled toward the middle of the nursery. He glanced upward at her after he made the adjustment to the position of the white crub. “Perfect. Thank you, baby.” 

Her husband stood to his feet and walked toward her with a smile on his face. He planted the softest kiss against her lips, hands around her swelling belly. “You’re welcome. Looking beautiful as ever.” His lips grazed the skin of her neck, making her eyes flutter closed. She giggled and pressed her hands against his chest. “Joe…” 

“I’ll never get enough of you, Cleo,” he drug out her name playfully and pecked her forehead. “Love you darling.”