Quarantine and Chill - AMBW Standalone Romance - Page 71

He pulled it out and checked the screen. Without answering it, he stopped walking and closed his eyes. “Damn it.”

“What?”

“It’s Amber’s father.”

“Did they notify him?”

“I don’t know.” He opened his eyes. “Fuck. I’ll be right back. I should talk to him.”

“Okay.” I stood there, watching him walk away.

Kamal is not okay.

If I was shaken by Amber’s death, then he was shattered. If I couldn’t get the images of today out of my head, then it would plague him for the rest of the year,

What am I going to do? How can I help him?

I was completely out of my comfort zone and had no idea what to do next. But in the end, it didn’t matter. I would stay in this condo with him. I would cook for Kamal and watch over Ganesha. I would love him as much as he let. Hug and kiss him. Make love if he let me.

No matter what I would stay right here because in this moment, he needed me the most.

After his phone call with Amber’s father, we ate in silence. He barely touched his food. He just stared at the plate.

I wanted to say something, but no words came.

Neither of us ate much of the food. When he rose, I did. We both dumped the contents in the trash and cleaned up the dishes.

Still, no conversation came.

I gave Ganesha a pain pill that was stuffed in a meatball. He ate it and passed out in his new bed. His pink kitten snuggled up close to him.

Kamal’s mother called next. He talked to her on the balcony for close to an hour. Not sure of what else to do, I showered and went to bed. When he finished with her, he cleaned up too and lay down next to me.

What will happen to us?

Usually, we lay together in each other’s arms. Our limbs tangled. Our gazes focused on each other. Conversation moving within the shadows of the bedroom.

Tonight, we didn’t even touch each other. Stunned, we both lay on our backs, staring at the ceiling and saying nothing. It took forever for me to fall asleep. But I knew that when I finally did close my eyes, Kamal remained awake.Chapter 20

KamalA month later

Incubation

Three weeks passed. We were now in April. New York City remained on lockdown. Even worst, over five hundred people in New York City died daily from coronavirus. I wasn’t sure when we would open again.

Jade, Ganesha, and I stayed in my condo with no problem. I bought a small wheelchair for Ganesha’s hind legs so he could still get around. Jade took him outside to the park near my place whenever it was sunny. My furry nephew would be back to his old self in another month or so.

I took two weeks off from work, needing a break from the company and the world. At times, I just stood on my balcony and stared at the haunting image of Manhattan—empty and ghostlike.

When Jade’s supplies arrived, things brightened. Even Ganesha wagged his tail from his doggy bed. It gave us all something to do. For days, I would bring Ganesha and Bebe up to the second level, and there I helped Jade transform my sunroom into a nice art studio. We played music the whole time—cleaning and unboxing, stacking, and setting everything up.

What would I have done if she hadn’t been there to keep my mind busy?

We finished in no time. It almost made me sad to not have any more projects to complete with her. I made note of all the things that had been delivered—large amounts of clay, carving sets and tools, blocks of soapstone, different lengths of wire, wood slabs, and various shapes of metals. Once I knew what she needed, I bought more and had it delivered. She grinned in delight and that joy gave me pleasure.

She’s becoming more than a lover. More than a girlfriend.

Some afternoons, I would come into her studio with Ganesha. There, we simply watched her carve and chip away at blocks. She liked to sculpt to jazz. My soul grew quiet in those moments, finding its only peace in the day. For hours, she would hammer away at metal, causing dents here and there. Eventually, shapes appeared. Images formed. And my soul brightened, and I got to believe in something good for a moment during such a bad time in the world. I was able to hope. To be inspired. To feel renewed. I found faith in the grooves of her artistic creations. And I learned more and more what an authentic relationship felt like—how warm and welcoming love could truly be.

This. I want this. . .for the rest of my life.

If Jade wanted to leave my condo and go back to Zora’s place by herself, she never voiced it out loud.

That was good because I would have never let her go.

Tags: Kenya Wright Romance
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