Page 21 of Betrothed To Love

“Let’s talk about my campaign strategy,” she says quickly, overlooking what I said, but I won’t let it go.

“If we’re married, we should be attracted to one another, right?” I ask before standing. Then I step over to her and sit. “I’m definitely attracted to you. I’m a lucky man because my wife is beautiful.”

With a smile, she says, “You’re very comfortable saying wife.”

“Well, we’re married, aren’t we?” I ask and she shakes her head. “We gotta get used to this and saying it. But back to my question. I’m attracted to you. Do you find me attractive?”

“Mr. Bako,” she says while still shaking her head.

“Husband,” I correct.

“I’m not as quick as you with this yet. Give me time. Baby steps. But, yes, you are very handsome.”

“Good,” I say, then smile. “Now that we both know there’s an attraction, what’s next for your election?”

“An announcement in The Chronicle so I can speak out before Richardson does. I just need to make sure you’re okay with it.”

“When?” I ask, because although I’m cool with it, I have Niya and my family to consider.

“Tomorrow?” she says in a questioning tone.

“Is there any way it can run Monday morning? I need to tell my family. I have a daughter and my family and I don’t have secr⁠—”

“A daughter? You have a child?” she says in an elevated tone, clearly surprised.

“Yes. My baby girl, Niya. She’s four,” I say, then pull my cell from my pocket. My baby is my screensaver. “This is her.”

After taking my phone and studying the screen, Mireya looks up at me. “She’s beautiful. Look at all that hair,” she gushes. “And she’s four?”

“Yeah. She just turned four in June.”

“And her mother? Are you two still together?” she asks, almost timidly. “I mean… I… just don’t want any issues with the campaign,” she adds quickly.

“We haven’t been together since she found out she was pregnant,” I say and her entire facial expression changes. Her eyebrows pinch together and her nose wrinkles, so I explain what only my fam and Aven are privy to. “When my ex found out she was pregnant, I was happy as hell; she wasn’t, at all. She unilaterally made the decision to get rid of our child and I found out through a damn voicemail confirming her appointment at a clinic. I met her there and stopped her. It took some convincing but she had Niya for me and the day my baby was born was the last day I saw her.” Although her facial expression relaxes a little, her eyebrows are still knitted.

“So she didn’t want her baby? Left her with you and hasn’t been back to see her?” she asks.

“To be fair, we had only been seeing each other for about five months. We hadn’t even talked about kids. It was too early and we just never discussed it. We were responsible though, condoms and she was on the pill. She just wasn’t taking the shit like she should. Niya wasn’t planned but she was a blessing. She was mine and I wanted her. Janis, that’s her name, agreed to have Niya for me. She moved in during her pregnancy and I took care of her. She was serious about not wanting kids too. The paperwork was signed and filed before Niya was born, and when they were discharged, I took my little baby home and Janis disappeared.”

“Wow,” she utters. After shifting her legs and sitting back on the sectional, she repeats herself. “Wow. And you raise your daughter alone. That’s impressive.”

“Not completely alone. Shuga helps a lot, along with my dad, Asali, my brothers, and even my nephews.”

“That’s still impressive, very impressive,” she repeats before leaning forward and standing. She grabs her flute then turns back to me. “I’m intrigued. I want to know more but I also need more of this.” She raises her flute then nods to my empty one. “More?” she asks.

“I’m cool with more,” I admit.

After grabbing my empty flute, she walks out of the living room and I appreciatively watch her sexy ass exit. Her dress clings to her form, accentuating the sway of her hips and the little shake of her perfect, round ass. My wife is blessed with a full, beautiful body that many women only dream of, voluptuous in all the right places.

“Your family,” she begins as soon as she returns with our refills. “You’re really close.”

“Very close. Asali’s family is all still in Nigeria and Shuga was an only child. It’s just us, my parents, my four brothers, and our kids.”

“So you’re Nigerian-American?”

“According to Asali I am, but trust me, our Nigerian family says we’re more American,” I admit, then smile. “I’ve only been to Nigeria twice, both times when my grandparents passed. I’m born and raised in Diamond Falls but Asali makes sure we don’t forget our roots.”

“Igbo? Yoruba?” she asks.