I rest my elbow on the table, chin in my hand, just watching him. “How are you feeling?”
He leans forward a little. “Grateful,” he says, low and sure. “Mi Gov, man.”
There are women all over the restaurant. Some with full beat, some with heels that sink in the sand every time they stand. All of them trying to catch his eye. But his eyes haven’t left me.Purr.
“Cyaa believe mi have you,” he murmurs, the edge of his voice dipped in awe.
I blush, my fingers grazing the edge of my glass. “Really?”
He doesn’t smile. Not right away. Just looks at me like I’m something rare. Like I’m the win he didn’t think he’d deserve. And Lord… Why is that making my heart thump harder?
“When Jordane come to me and say, ‘Mi see a nice teacher over school weh look like your type,’ mi never know say it woulda be you.”
Nickoi leans back in his chair, eyes steady on mine. “The woman fi change me. And about fi mek me be a father.”Whew.
I blush so hard I have to look down, pretending to smooth out my dress. This man has no idea what his words do to me. The waitress comes over with a gentle smile and sets down two glasses of water, followed by our appetizers. Nickoi gets creamy shrimp scampi. I get cheesy fries. Of course. One thing about me? I’m gonna order that.
As we eat, we slip into our own little world. Question after question, stories flowing easy, like we’ve known each other through a thousand lifetimes and just now found our way back. I learn that his mother’s side is from Flanker, in Montego Bay and his father’s side is from Spanish Town; 31 Johns Rd. His dad, Owayne, was close with him like best friends, with a complicatedbond and even though Nickoi acts like the oldest, he isn’t. Junior’s the eldest.
And crazy enough, Junior’s real name is Owayne, just like their dad. I smile at him as I eat, my pork chops sweet and smoky. He’s tearing into his lobster, but his eyes keep drifting up to me. He uses seafood scissors to break through difficult shells, cracking through with his bare hands, most times and still manage to not get any sauce on his clothes. He loves a little lemon juice squeezed into his lobster too.
“I feel like I know something real about you now,” I say, gently.
It’s quiet for a moment. Not heavy. Just full. Like we crossed a line neither of us saw coming, and we’re both okay with it.
Once we’re done, the waitress returns, this time with dessert. “How is it so far, Mami?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, voice dipping low.
Awww. Why is my baby looking so nervous for the first time?
I look across the table at him, my heart so full it could spill. “It’s amazing,” I say, and I mean every syllable. I pick up the fork and take a bite of the cake. He’s not eating. Just watching me. His gaze feels heavier than usual, like he’s thinking deep about something he hasn’t said yet.
“That mi wah hear, man,” he says softly, almost like to himself. Then he reaches across the table and gently takes my hand, stilling me. His tone shifts. I swallow.No sah… him a mek mi nervous now.
“I’m not perfect,” he begins, his thumb grazing my knuckles. “But mi try mi best fi come off perfect inna your eyes. Like mi tell yuh before… mi deh yah fi mek yuh happy, and a that mi plan fi do… as long as mi alive.”
I blink fast. The tears come before I can stop them. “The only tears mi ever want see yuh cry…” he pauses, looking me dead in the eye, “A tears of joy. That’s it.”
“Awww,” I whisper, my heart full. My fingers tighten around his.
But he’s not finished. “Mi know mi take yuh from a home weh maybe yuh never expect fi end up wid a man like me, bad man or not but through it all, yuh still a be you. And yuh still deh right yer wid mi.” his voice cracks a little, he’s so nervous.
“You had enough reason fi cut. Bad energy, rumors, everyting… but yuh never move. Yuh held it down.”
He chuckles softly, eyes dropping for a second. “And mi know it probably look too soon to people. But nothing weh a gwan between we… nobody else nuh need fi understand it.” My hands start trembling. I laugh lightly. A bit overwhelmed.
When I glance around, I realize the other couples nearby have gone quiet. They’re watching, smiling wide like they already know what’s about to happen. Then I noticehim,a man dressed in black, barefoot in the sand, spinning blue fire in hypnotic loops. The flames light up the night, dancing in circles around him. A few people are recording, their phones held high. The light from the fire casts a soft glow across our table. And it’s right there, in that flickering light, with Nickoi’s hand still wrapped around mine, that I realize something’s happening.
Zara… mi hope yuh ready fi this enuh.
I try to hide the tears slipping down my cheek. But mi emotional now. I don’t even know what’s happening to me.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, smiling through it, trying to pick up the fork again, just to look like I have something to do. Something to anchor me while this man talks like I’m the only woman in the world.
I use the fork to take up a piece of the cake then pause. That’s when I see it. The ring. My breath catches. A scream leaves mythroat before I can stop it. Tears start running down my face almost immediately. “Y-you really see me a-as your wife?” I stutter, sobbing through the words.
Nickoi nods with a smile, calm and sure. “Definitely… mi see you as mi baby mother and mi wife, Zara.”
His voice is steady. “And usually… mi nuh meds dem thing yah. But I guess a this love do.”
