Page 130 of When Love Takes Root

The promise rising in me was too big for a sleeping woman, so I kept most of it between me and God.

If You trust me with this woman, I’ll cover her. I’ll honor what came before me and protect what You’re growing now. I’ll learn her children, not tolerate them. I’ll never make them feel like loving their mother means losing their father all over again. And if You allow a future beyond what I can see tonight, I’ll treat it like sacred ground.

Celeste shifted and settled deeper against me.

I smiled despite the ache in my chest.

Being desired was one thing.

Being trusted with her rest felt like covenant before language.

I wanted to give her more than a good evening. I wanted to give her consistency. Prayer. Truth. A pantry ready for her babies. A love rooted enough to stay.

If I ever loved Celeste Coleman out loud, it wouldn’t be reckless.

It would be rooted.

The movie faded to credits neither of us watched. I stayed still with one arm around her and the other resting over the blanket. My phone lit once on the coffee table, then went dark again.

Pretty Red

I looked down at her and smiled.

Not yet.

One day, I’d say it where she could hear me.

For now, I kissed her forehead once more and let the woman God placed in my living room sleep like fear had finally gotten tired too.

Thursday Morning

For a few seconds after I opened my eyes, I didn’t know where I was.

The room was too still. No little feet in the hallway. No cabinet door slamming. No Skye whispering loud enough to wake the whole house. No Kayden clearing his throat outside my door like a teenage bodyguard pretending to be casual.

Just the hum of air conditioning and dawn pressing pale blue against the curtains.

Then I breathed in, and the room gave him back to me.

Sandalwood lingered on the pillowcase beneath my cheek, clean and warm enough to make my fingers curl into the sheet.

Rosemary lingered too, faint from the kitchen. My body knew before my mind did. A man had put me in his bed and slept across the room so I wouldn’t wake up afraid.

Lord, help me.

Josiah.

Beside it sat a glass of water and a folded note.

Beautiful,

You fell asleep hard. I moved you so your neck wouldn’t punish you in the morning. You called me bossy twice, so I’m counting that as consent with commentary.

I’m on the chaise.

You’re safe.

J.