AlTonya Washington - Pride and Consequence

“Malik, I can understand how this might be affecting you, but you should keep a positive outlook on this. The operation could very well be a success.”

Malik’s voice was slightly muffled beneath his hands covering his face. “I can’t let Zakira see me that way, stuck in a bed. And I can’t let her see me die.”

By eight o’clock that evening, Zakira’s nerves were in overdrive. After leaving Badu’s, she took a long drive, did some Christmas shopping and visited a few friends. Feeling a little better, she decided to go home. When she called the restaurant and discovered Malik was not there, nor had he been home, she became worried again. Trying to keep an open mind, she washed her hair and braided the thick mass into two pigtails which she wrapped around her head. She even cleaned the already immaculate house in an attempt to keep from fretting over the whereabouts of her husband. So much activity eventually exhausted her, and she collapsed on the sofa for a short nap.

Malik’s key scratched the lock some thirty minutes after Zakira fell asleep. He entered the house quietly, not wanting to frighten her if she was still awake. The tense, guarded look in his dark eyes turned softer when he found his wife fast asleep in the living room. He crept across the thick carpet so he would not awaken her. Easing his heavy frame to the sofa, he took a seat next to her.

Malik’s exquisite charcoal gaze roamed Zakira’s face as though he were trying to memorize her lovely features. Very lightly, he traced the soft line of her brow and Zakira instantly awoke.

Frowning a little, Zakira got her bearings before glancing up. When she saw Malik leaning over her, she bolted up on the sofa. Her small fingers, curled around the lapels of his suede jacket and jerked him close to her.

“Where have you been all day? Why didn’t you call me?” she asked frantically.

Malik pulled Zakira’s hands away and held them tightly in his. “Shh. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to the tops of her fingers.

“Where were you?”

Malik shrugged and let go of Zakira’s hands as he leaned back on the sofa. “There was someplace I needed to be.”

“Like Doctor McNeil’s office?” Zakira softly inquired.

Malik’s narrowed gaze snapped to her face. “How’d you—”

“He called today, but you weren’t here. It sounded urgent.”

Malik ignored the faint pain near his temple. “It was just an exam. Routine.”

Zakira propped her elbow on the arm of the sofa. “You didn’t tell me you changed physicians. That’s why I was worried.”

“Damn, Zaki, does it matter?” Malik snapped. He desperately wanted to confide in her, but something wouldn’t allow him to. The inability to be honest with his wife caused his already short temper to boil.

Zakira’s eyes widened slightly at the outburst, but she chose to ignore his mood. “Why don’t you come sample what I worked on today?” she asked instead. She knew Malik too well to believe nothing was wrong. She would just have to use a different tactic to get some answers.

Malik’s gorgeous grin instantly returned. He leaned across her and lowered his mouth to the side of her neck. “Should I go to the kitchen or the bedroom?” he teased.

Zakira burst into laughter. “The kitchen, man!” she ordered, pushing away his heavy body.

A look of mock disappointment clouded Malik’s handsome dark face, but he did as he was told. It took much longer than usual to reach the kitchen with his hands tugging at Zakira’s blouse.

“Sit!” she ordered, when they finally reached the kitchen.

Malik got comfortable at the kitchen island while Zakira removed the light dinner she had prepared from the oven. There were the delicious chicken potpies, a mixture of broccoli, tomatoes and cucumbers marinated in a zesty wine vinegar and crushed herb dressing, and huge apple-walnut muffins. A light white wine topped off the tasty meal.

For a while, the only sounds in the kitchen were the clinking of utensils and glasses as they feasted on the dinner.

Several times, Zakira’s wide gaze traced every nuance of Malik’s face. She tried to search out any signs that something might be wrong. Of course, he looked as fit as ever.

“These dinners get better and better,” he complimented, after taking the last swig of wine from his glass.

“Thanks, baby,” Zakira whispered across the table, genuinely pleased by the compliment. “Did you have enough?”

Malik massaged the back of his neck and stood. “I’m just gonna get another drink.”

Zakira’s wide eyes followed him as he made his way to the counter. He lost his footing, just before he reached his destination. He had to grasp the edge of the oak counter for support.

“Malik?” Zakira called, rising from the table as well.

“I’m all right, Zaki,” he said, hoping he sounded convincing. “I don’t think I need another drink.”

Zakira was not amused by his teasing. “Are you having another dizzy spell?”

Confusion etched on Malik’s face and he turned. It was obvious that the comment took him by surprise. “What do you know about my dizzy spells?”

Zakira leaned against the edge of the table and regarded the handsome giant trying to put up a brave front. “I know you’ve been having them at least three times a week. But, of course, those are only the ones I’ve seen. I even know where you keep the pills.”

The depths of Malik’s eyes took on a darker tint and he looked as though he wanted to respond. Then, thinking better of it, he ran his fingers through his dreads and moved away from the counter.

“I’m goin’ to bed,” he mumbled, leaving Zakira alone in the kitchen.

The task of cleaning the kitchen turned out to be less time-consuming than Zakira anticipated. After she finished, she headed for bed.

Malik was still in the shower, when she walked into the bedroom. She decided to slip into her nightgown, since she had taken a shower just before starting dinner. She was smoothing lotion across her skin when Malik walked out of the steamy bathroom. For a moment, he stood staring at her while drying the droplets of water from his chest. He tossed the towel to the dresser and headed across the room, stopping just behind his wife. He grasped her hips in a firm hold and pulled her back against him. Burying his handsome face in the crook of her neck, he inhaled her sweet scent.

“I know you’re tired of hearing it, but I am sorry,” he whispered, his deep voice sounding muffled.

The soft apology sent shivers down Zakira’s back. She closed her eyes briefly and savored the moment. Then turning, she raised her face to his for a kiss.

Malik did not disappoint her. He pressed the tip of his tongue to the corner of her mouth, before tracing the lush full line of her lips. Zakira repeated the intimate action as she traced the wide sensual curve of his mouth.

When the kiss deepened, Malik lifted Zakira against his nude body and carried her across the room. Setting her down next to the bed, he lay back and pulled her down to him. With her straddling his huge form, Malik’s large hands trailed possessively over her thighs and beneath the hemline of her gown.

Zakira threw her head back and moaned when she felt Malik’s thumb caress the soft bud of her womanhood. The light circular motion of his finger soon had her wet with need. He removed his fingers and slid both hands around her hips to cup her full bottom. Lifting her easily, he slowly set her down over his throbbing arousal.

Zakira’s hands caressed Malik’s sexy, dark chocolate form, tracing his chiseled torso and abdomen. She rotated her hips and smiled when she heard him groan in response. Feeling his hard length inside her forced cries from her mouth.