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Quintessa ponders what I said then responds, “I’m just as willing and eager to get married as you are, Essex, but—”
“Then give me what I want,” I tell her. I lean down so close to her, our lips almost touch, and repeat, “Give me what I want.”
I dive in for a kiss, one so deep, I snatch the breath straight out of her lungs when I pull away from her.
She clears her throat and says, “You’re so persuasive.”
“Does that mean you’re on board?”
“Yes, I’m on board.”
“Well, all right!” Amos says. “I don’t know why people put so much emphasis on the wedding, anyway. Me and your mother were married at a courthouse and we didn’t have no reception or anything afterward. We just had each other.”
“That’s all we needed,” Sylvie says, stepping into her husband’s embrace. She continues, “Marriage is about two people who love each other, and that’s what I see with you two. We’ll go dress shopping on Friday. I’m sure we’ll find something.”
“Thank you for understanding,” I tell her parents. I want them to know I’m not trying to be rude or demanding. I just want their daughter – need her – more than I need my next breath.
