Respect Me, Part 1 by Nia Arthurs
Harriet
I wakeup to breakfast in bed.
Scrambled eggs. Bacon. Toast. A handsome man with broad shoulders and fingers capable of wicked things.
The blanket falls to my waist as Jerrison stares at me. There’s no way I deserve such a hungry look with my bonnet twisted off my head, boogers in my eyes, and no makeup on.
And yet, there are soft smiles. Even softer glances.
I ease closer to him. Yearn for more of him. I want to fall harder in love. Trace my fingers over his shoulders and watch goosebumps rush over his skin. Crank the hands of time until we’re back to the newlywed version of ourselves.
“What is all this?” I ask, my lips quirking up.
Sunlight dances through the air, picking up the flecks of green in his eyes. There’s scruff on his face, which tells me he started cooking before he shaved.
I like it on him. The short beard brings even more attention to his square jaw and those soft, pink lips.
Gorgeous.
I can’t resist leaning forward for a kiss. “Morning.”
“Morning.” He touches the edge of my bonnet. Tilts his head. Smiles. “You didn’t eat when you came home yesterday.”
“True.”
“And I kept you busy all night.”
“Also true.” I laugh softly.
He kisses my temple. “Thought you might need some energy.”
My cheeks hurt from smiling. I’ll need more than energy. I’ll need make-up to cover the bruises. I’ll need fragrant body gel because the smell of us still lingers on my skin. I’ll need to explain this big, sappy grin to people who’ve only seen me frowning lately.
Last night was… every dirty thought that ever crossed my mind. Heat and eyes that met, lingering over moments that stretched to forever. Fingers that stained in places where colors had never been before. Grasping hands and tortured gasps. Nails on quivering backs and soft, wet caresses.
I may have gone a little crazy.
Not that I care.
I needed to get out of my own head. I needed to reclaim some thread of the couple we used to be.
There was no other way to accomplish that goal.
Every time Jerrison and I have a conversation we fight, but it’s different when we talk with our bodies. Easier to connect sexually rather than emotionally.
I smile brightly at Jerrison as I shift out of bed. My legs move just fine. In the reflection of the mirror, I see a woman with brown skin gleaming. The kind of glow that comes only after a night of satisfaction.
There’s no discomfort anywhere and there wasn’t any pain yesterday either. Jerrison was extremely attentive to me. In fact, when he met resistance, he stopped and started kissing me all over again until I was so ready that the air thickened with the scent of my desire.
It’s been a while since we’ve made love like that.
“Let me take you to work this morning.” He offers, handing me the orange juice.
My smile drops. “It’s okay. I’ll drive myself.”
“You sure?” The question feels like a test and a part of me tightens with unease.
Last night was magical.
And random.
Maybe a little too random.
The reason he pulled me close wasn’t because of jealousy, was it?
Trust is a fragile thing.
He broke mine.
And what? Now I broke his?
If he’s fishing around for answers to boogeymen that aren’t there, how should I feel about that?
“Sweetheart?” Jerrison watches me intently.
I shake my head. Focus on what’s right in front of me. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve got an errand to run before I head to the bakery.”
“Okay.” He drops the topic.
I relax somewhat. If he was still suspicious, would he let the matter drop that quietly?
We eat together. Mild conversation. Rumblings about the weather. The latest scandal in the news. Our plans for the day.
Time gets away from me.
I head to the closet and pick out my clothes, intending to take a quick shower. My plans are foiled when Jerrison joins me in the bathroom.
His body presses into mine. I kiss him and taste the rain. It reminds me of the days when we first got married. Back then, separating from him felt like tearing a piece of my soul out of my chest. I couldn’t sleep unless he was next to me and I couldn’t breathe unless I was breathing him in.
By the time we dry off, I’m floating on clouds and half-wondering if I really need Doc again.
Isn’t the problem solving itself? Jerrison wouldn’t be so hungry for me unless he’d decided to change.
Maybe last night was the last fight.
Maybe it’ll get better on its own.
After a little debate, I drive to the garage. A part of me wants to preen in front of Doc. See? I don’t have to grovel for your advice. I solved the problem on my own.
I search the garage filled with broken-down trucks until I find Doc. He’s working under one, his legs resting on a cardboard.
“Doc!” I sing, prancing his way.
He slides out of the truck and greets me with a nod.
“You got started without me?” I dance to the toolbox, looking for the wrench.
“You’re in a good mood today.” Doc sits up and wipes his hands on a rag.
His assessing gaze falls over my face and my grin turns self-conscious. Doc won’t be able to see the love marks, will he? He won’t know what we did in our bedroom last night?
Of course not. He’s not a mind reader, Harriet.
But my heart clops with fear anyway and I laugh nervously. “Yes, well… I… had a good night.” Clearing my throat, I look away from Doc and finally locate the wrench inside the tool box.
Wrapping my fingers around it, I heft it over my shoulder and return to Doc. He’s standing, dark hands brushing oil on his cover-alls and black eyes pinning me in place.
It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking. He’s almost like the scanner he uses, quietly running a thousand calculations at once.
“Here.” I hand the wrench to him, unable to meet his eyes.
Doc takes the wrench from me. “Let’s work on this truck today.”
I nod and follow him across the room to an old truck that looks so dilapidated it belongs in the junk yard.
To my surprise, Doc turns to me and asks, “What do you believe is the issue with your marriage.”
“I…” My mind goes blank.
Is this really happening? Is Doc finally helping me?
I hear my heart thumping in my ears.
My mouth snaps closed.
Do I need this?
There’s no harm in getting his assessment after all I’ve done to earn the privilege, is there? Just because Jerrison and I are in a better place, it doesn’t mean that we can’t use a little guidance.
“All men make mistakes, you know?” I watch as Doc uses the wrench on the engine of the truck. “Honestly, it’s kind of my fault. Life got in the way and our relationship suffered because of it.”
“What exactly got in the way?” Doc asks, setting valves aside.
“Work. Bills. The repetitiveness of owning a home and living together. I understand why my husband got bored with me.”
“Hm.” Doc hands the wrench back.
I accept the weight of it in my hands. “I changed a lot too. When we met, I was always at the boxing ring. I came to life with my fists. I didn’t fear anything. But growing up taught me to tame myself and I lost that edge.”
“What made you interested in him in the first place?”
I pause. Try to piece these random questions together. Where is he going with this?
Doc stops and looks at me patiently.
I shuffle my weight from one foot to the next. “I liked him because he was handsome.”
Doc’s lips twitch into a frown and I know without him saying a word that it’s the wrong answer.
“He was so loving and gentle with me,” I add defensively. “I rejected him at first, because he was younger than me, but he didn’t take no for an answer. He would show up at my dad’s gym everyday. He picked me up if I needed a ride. He brought me flowers and celebrated my birthday with me. He even made a mixtape I could listen to while I was exercising.”
“How did you feel when he did that?”
“Seen. Loved. Protected.” I shrug. “What woman doesn’t like being romanced?”
“That’s true.” Doc bares his teeth as he fights with a stubborn valve. “For women, the emotions are important, but that also gives women a disadvantage.” He finally loosens the old valve and sets it aside. “I’m very glad to hear you’re a boxer because, for what you want to do, you have to dig deep to find the fight inside you.” His tone turns grave, as somber as his eyes. “Because you will have to fight hard to see if that person you fell in love with is still inside your husband.”
“He is.” I sigh dreamily, thinking of last night. “You can count on it, Doc.”
He doesn’t look so convinced. “I’ll help you, but my help is contingent on you listening to what I say.”
“Of course.”
His lips flatten into a thin line. “That’s all for today.”
My jaw drops. “Are you serious?”
He gestures to the door.
Still a little shocked, I stumble back. “Is this the part where I pay the secretary? I was told there was a cost.”
He smiles slightly. “Not for you. All the work you did at my shop counts for a lot more than money.”
My chest sings from his praise. For some reason, his approval means a lot to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doc.”
He waves me away.
I step outside. Lift my face to the sky. Grin at the puffy clouds and dancing tree leaves.
Doc is on the case.
Our first real session happened today. Things can only improve from here.
At that moment, I hear a twig snap.
A cold feeling prickles my spine.
Uneasy, I whirl around and scan my surroundings.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Doc’s garage. Tall trees. Giant buildings in the distance.
There’s no one there. The hair on the back of my neck stands to attention and I can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching me.
My heart slams against my ribs.
Nerves tighten in my stomach.
Unnerved, I hurry to my car and speed away.
