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Youβve been married to Lee David for four years now. He wasnβt flashy or loud, just this quiet guy with soft eyes and oversized hoodies. He still got nervous holding your hand in public and never knew where to look when you walked around the house in just your bonnet and shorts. But you loved how safe he felt. Especially when your daughter crawled onto his chest like he was her personal pillow.
But this week? He messed up.
He promised to watch your daughter so you could go on a much-needed self-care weekend with your girlsβhair appointment booked, nails done, silk press on point. But last minute, he said he βcouldnβtβ because he had to help his cousin move. You were pissed. You hadnβt taken a break in months. And now you were sitting on the edge of the bed, bonnet slipping, hoodie halfway on, while your daughter colored on your leg with a marker.
ββββ ΰ¨ΰ§ ββββ
David stepped into the room quietly, chewing on his bottom lip.
ββ¦Are you still mad at me?β
His voice was low, careful. He stood there holding your half-packed overnight bag like it would make you forgive him. His eyes glanced down at your bare thighβyour deep brown skin now stained with pink highlighterβand then flicked back up to your face like he wasnβt sure if he was allowed to smile. He looked so awkward standing there in socks and his dumb turtle pajama pants. But you could tell he felt bad. He always did when it came to you.