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“I had Rufus drive twenty miles and you’re not going to eat it.” Mekhi pointed his fork in the direction of my plate.
I looked down at the homemade banana pudding in front of me and then up into my husband’s eyes. I still mused daily that I was actually his wife. Ours was a relationship that went back over twenty-one years with us meeting in third grade at the age of eight, becoming booed up in our early teens, breaking up when Mekhi got me in legal trouble at age eighteen which was then followed by ten years of the silent treatment.
But now here we were, sitting across the table from each other in this massive house he’d purchased for me with his successful record producer money. He was the love of my life. The only man I’d likely ever love, and he was smiling. Proud he’d sent his driver/boy/bodyguard/friend to get a surprise for me and I couldn’t smile back. Every sweet thing he did for me these days felt like the last supper. I dropped my head in my hands and burst into tears.
“Sammie.” I felt him push back from the table. He came around and pulled me from my seat into his arms and against his chest. “Baby, please.”
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I know I should cry when you’re at work, but I can’t help it. It’s so close and now I’m scared.”
He rubbed my back and pressed his cheek against the side of my face. “Baby, don’t be scared. It’s going to be okay. You’ll be home before you know it.”
I continued to boohoo like the broken record I’d become these days. Crying. Always crying and to think...I’d signed up for this fate by confessing to my crime rather than going to trial. What had I been thinking?
Mekhi lowered me to my seat and left the room for mere seconds, returning with tissues. He got on his knees in front of me and began to wipe my tears. “You’ve got too much time on your hands, baby. Are you sure you don’t want to come back to work for a few weeks?”
I’d considered my job as the social media coordinator for Mekhi’s record label, Airamas, but I’d walked away from that last month and the publicist had found someone else. The guy was good. Better than me in fact, so there was no point in me getting in his way. I shook my head, but that was another regret. I should have worked up until the last minute.
“Have you given any thought to what I suggested?” Mekhi asked standing.
Start my community service. The thought of that gave me a pain in the chest.
“If you start right away, you could get half of it done before you go. Then you could be almost free when you get out.”
“Free?” I blew my nose. “You mean except that tiny little thing called probation.”
Mekhi dropped his head. “Sam, I’m just trying to make suggestions. You’re bored and hurting and scared. When I’m experiencing any of those things, I have to work.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Scared, Mekhi? When was the last time you were scared?”
I saw him Adam’s apple move up and down. His face took on a shadow and I realized that was a stupid question. He’d been scared after our baby died. Well, my baby because we found out from postmortem DNA testing that it hadn’t been his. But still, he thought it was and he’d loved her. He had been scared then – scared I was going to lose my mind. Now it was my turn to rescue him from his thoughts.
“I’ll do it.” I offered myself as the sacrifice. “I’ll call tomorrow and see what I have to do to set it up.” I stood. “You’re right. I want to be free when I’m free.”
A faint smile touched his lips. I knew he loved these sensible victories. He rubbed his hands up and down my arms and my insides turned to jelly.
“I’m proud of you.”
I leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips. “Let’s eat this pudding before it loses its pop.” We returned to our seats. I took a deep breath and pushed the spoon between my lips, fighting with each mouthful not to throw up. Now even my appetite betrayed me. With every decadent meal I enjoyed, I was one day closer to the horrible food that would be served behind bars.