Chapter 17
Gina
THE MORE TIME KOFIspent making love to me, the better I understood that what I'd experienced at twenty-one was a far cry from what good sex was all about. Kofi was way above average in his physical makeup, yet not once did I feel threatened by him.
Now, as he urged me toward my second explosion of the night, I clung to him with all my strength inside and out. Tremors shook my legs and extended to my entire body as he bucked against me, intensifying my orgasm.
Eyes shut tight, I yelled his name.
"I love you." The words flowed out as if they were on a loop I couldn't cut. My voice must have been loud on the night air, but I couldn't stem my cries and I also didn't care who heard me.
As my hips stopped churning against Kofi, he covered my body with his and supported himself on both elbows. "Me nim. Me nso me d? wo."
"What language is that?"
"Twi."
"Okay." I was having the hardest time moving, as if I were some lightweight material suspended in thick liquid. "And what does it mean?"
"I said, I know and I love you too."
I should have been cold as the air conditioner blew frigid air onto my sweat-soaked body, but Kofi's warmth kept me insulated. He kissed my face, neck and shoulders as if he couldn't get enough of me. His adoration brought tears to my eyes.
I sniffled and he raised his head to look at me. The moon cast shadows through the curtains, but his concerned expression was clear. "What is the matter?"
Shaking my head, I said. "Nothing. I just ... I just love you. That's all."
He rolled away, then pulled me into his arms and kissed my forehead. "I had to ask. Loving someone usually doesn't involve crying."
I trailed a finger over his chest toward his navel. "When someone loves me the way you love me, it ... I dunno. This may sound silly, but I can almost believe you've touched something in me nobody has ever touched before."
We lay in silence for a while before Kofi got out of bed and went to the bathroom. He returned to pull me into his arms and wrap himself around me. I loved that about him, the freedom he felt to express himself in exactly the way that suited him in the moment.
Running my hand along the contours of his upper arm, I asked, "Why do you love me?"
His breathing was slow and even as he spoke. "Because you're funny, smart, special and sweet."
"And broken."
He sighed and squeezed me a little. "I think of you as fractured, not broken. Broken is when you're beyond hope and you can't help yourself. Something bad happened to you, but you dealt with it in the best way you could and it didn't break you down. You've come this far and you'll go much farther."
I waited, knowing he wasn't finished.
"The thing is," he said, "you won't get past a certain point until you let go of the forgiveness in your heart."
"When did you get into theology?"
"What I'm telling you has nothing to do with religion. It's a simple equation. Negative energy breeds more negative energy. You haven't made the decision to release your anger and resentment against this man and your mother. Until you do, you will be stuck in the same place."
"It's not as easy as you think. When you've been violated it's hard to forget it happened. It's something that lives with you and—"
"I'm not saying you should pretend it never happened, but you do need to lay it to rest." He sighed into my hair. "Gina, I gave you some advice, but until you choose to do something different you'll be going around the same mountain year after year. Do you even know where this man is who raped you?"
I winced and I was certain Kofi understood why. "Last I heard, he was in Canada." My tone turned bitter. "Married with children."
