Page 291 of When a Soul Cries

Sol lowered the mug and looked at me.

Then she chuckled.

“You are crazy.”

“We already established that.”

She shook her head and turned toward the window, hiding a smile behind the rim of her mug.

“I’m serious, Sol.”

“I know you’re serious.” She looked over at me again. “That’s what makes you crazy.”

I pushed away from the island. “Call it whatever you want. I know what the fuck I want.”

Her eyes came back to mine.

“And when I know I want something, I don’t play around with it. I want you. I want Halo. I want you to be my wife. I told you that shit last night, and I woke up wanting the same thing this morning.”

“Rome, people don’t normally decide to get married like this.”

“I’m not people.”

She rolled her eyes.

“And I don’t give a fuck what people normally do. They ain’t gotta be married to you. I do.”

She lowered the mug slightly. “You do?”

“Yeah. I do.”

She stared at me for several seconds before looking down into her coffee.

For the first time all morning, I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

Then, so softly I almost missed it, she said, “Okay.”

My eyebrows pulled together.

I leaned up off the counter.

“What you say?”

Her eyes lifted.

“You heard me.”

“Nah.” I took a step toward her. “Say that shit again.”

A smile started creeping across her face.

“Okay, Roman. I’ll be your wife.”

For a second, I just stared at her.

The words settled somewhere deep.

My wife.