Choosing Each Other
1137 Words
Chapter 7
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For the first time since meeting Marcus, Aaliyah wasn't trying to figure out where they stood.
They were together.
Really together.
That should have made everything easier.
It didn't.
Love, she was learning, didn't suddenly make life simple. It just gave you someone you cared enough to worry about.
Three weeks passed after their argument.
They settled into something that felt almost ordinary. Marcus came over after work. Aaliyah cooked, though he constantly complained that she used too much pepper. They argued about movies. He left his shoes in places he shouldn't, and she complained about it every single time.
Sometimes they kissed in the kitchen while dinner was burning.
Sometimes they just sat together without talking.
Those were Aaliyah's favorite moments.
One Friday night, Marcus arrived later than usual.
Aaliyah opened the door.
“You're late.”
“I know.”
“That's all?”
He smiled.
“I'm sorry.”
She stepped aside.
“Come in.”
He kissed her cheek as he walked past.
She watched him put his keys on the table.
“You look tired.”
“I am.”
“Bad day?”
“Very.”
Aaliyah walked over and wrapped her arms around him.
Marcus let out a long breath and held her.
“Better?” she asked.
“A little.”
She looked up.
“How little?”
He smiled.
“About fifty percent.”
“Only fifty?”
“I'm going to need another hug.”
She laughed and held him tighter.
They stayed like that for a while.
Then Marcus kissed her.
It was gentle at first.
Aaliyah's arms slipped around his neck, and his hands settled at her waist.
The kiss deepened naturally, without either of them forcing it.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers.
“I love this,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Coming home to you.”
The words caught her off guard.
She looked at him.
“This isn't your home.”
“I know.”
“Then why say that?”
“Because sometimes it feels like it.”
Aaliyah didn't know what to say.
So she kissed him.
They moved slowly toward the sofa, still laughing between kisses because Marcus nearly knocked over a cushion.
“Careful,” she whispered.
“I'm trying.”
“You're not.”
“I know.”
She laughed again.
Then the laughter faded.
Marcus looked at her.
There was desire in his eyes, but there was something else too.
Something deeper.
He touched her cheek.
“We don't have to do anything you're not ready for.”
Aaliyah held his wrist.
“I know.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
She kissed him again.
This time, she didn't feel nervous.
She felt safe.
The night became quieter after that.
They talked less.
There were kisses, lingering touches, whispered words that belonged only to them.
And when they finally went to bed, Aaliyah understood something she hadn't expected.
Intimacy wasn't only about desire.
It was trust.
It was being close enough to another person to let them see the parts of you that you usually kept hidden.
The next morning, sunlight slipped through the curtains.
Aaliyah woke first.
Marcus was still asleep beside her.
She watched him for a moment.
His hair was messy. One arm was stretched across the pillow, and he looked completely different from the confident man she had met at the restaurant.
He looked peaceful.
Human.
Aaliyah smiled.
Marcus opened one eye.
“Why are you staring at me?”
She laughed.
“You're awake.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Get up.”
“No.”
“Marcus.”
He pulled her closer instead.
She laughed as she landed against his chest.
“You're impossible.”
“You knew that.”
She rested her head against him.
After a few quiet moments, Marcus spoke.
“Aaliyah?”
“Hmm?”
“I've been thinking.”
“That usually scares me.”
He laughed.
“I want you to move in with me.”
She lifted her head.
“What?”
“I know it's soon.”
“Very soon.”
“I know.”
She stared at him.
Marcus sat up.
“I'm not asking you to answer today. I'm not trying to rush you. I just know what I want.”
“And that's me?”
“You.”
Aaliyah looked away.
Part of her wanted to say yes immediately.
Another part—the part that had been hurt before—wanted to run.
She took a breath.
“I need time.”
Marcus nodded.
“Take it.”
“No pressure?”
“No pressure.”
She smiled.
“Thank you.”
He reached for her hand.
“I don't want you because you're perfect.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Good, because I'm definitely not.”
He laughed.
“I want you because you're you. Even when you're stubborn. Even when you overthink. Even when you pretend you don't care when you obviously do.”
She smiled.
“And you?”
“Me what?”
“You're not perfect either.”
“Never claimed to be.”
She leaned closer.
“Good.”
Their foreheads touched.
“I think that's what makes this real,” she whispered.
Marcus kissed her softly.
And in that moment, Aaliyah knew she didn't need to have every answer.
She didn't need to know exactly where they would be a year from now.
For now, it was enough to choose him.
And she had.
Not because she was afraid of being alone.
Not because she needed someone.
But because, somewhere along the way, Marcus Bennett had become the person she wanted beside her when life was beautiful—and when it wasn't.
That was the kind of love she had always wanted.
The kind worth choosing.
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