Read Where I Wanna Be Online

Authors: Vera Roberts

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Romance, #Multicultural & Interracial

Where I Wanna Be (55 page)

 


Actually, I was wondering something…” Faith stepped closer to Eli. “…um, do you want to, um…”

 


Do I want to what?”

 


Do you want to spend the night with us?” Faith asked. “You’ll sleep in the guest room, though.”

 

A slow smile appeared on Eli’s face. “I would love to. I would have to leave early in the morning, though.”

 


That’s fine.” Faith nodded. “I understand.”

 


I’ll make little man his pancakes before I leave, though, so he’ll have a good breakfast before he goes over to your mom’s.” Eli promised.

 


Nate would like that,” Faith nodded.

 


Okay, I guess I’ll head to bed now.” Eli kissed Faith’s forehead and gave her a hug. “I’ll see you in the morning, baby girl. Good night.” He then walked to his room and closed the door behind him.

 

Faith stared at the guest bedroom door and sighed. Having Eli sleep in the guest room was a stepping stone in rebuilding their relationship. Soon he would move back home and eventually back into their bedroom. That was when the real challenge was going to start. “Good night, Eliodoro.”

 

****

 

During the night, Faith tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable in bed. She blamed the late night macchiato she had at Nicola’s. She should’ve known better than to drink that despite how delicious it was. After being awake for a couple of hours, she came to terms that she was just going to be up.
Great. I’m going to miss all the good sales tomorrow.
She decided to go to the kitchen and make a warm cup of milk. That would at least guarantee her a few hours of sleep.

 

She put on a robe and walked out of her bedroom. She did a quick check on Nathan and saw he was sleeping soundly. She was on her way to the kitchen when she stopped at the guest room. She tip-toed to the door and pressed an ear against it. She couldn’t hear anything. Eli wasn’t a big snorer and could pretty much sleep through the worst storm.

 

Faith eyeballed the door knob and wondered if she should go in and check on how her husband was doing. Did he have enough blankets? Was he comfortable? She decided to chance it. Eli couldn’t get mad at her for caring. She gently turned the door knob and slowly opened the door. Stripped down to this boxer briefs was Eli sleeping with just a light blanket covering his waist.

 

Well, he’s comfortable.
Faith began to leave then stopped. She turned again and had one last glance at Eli. She stared at his muscular chest, leading down to his taut abs. Faith remembered how she ran her fingers along his body, relishing every muscle. Her next thought was his strong legs, cradling hers as they made love. His full lips trailing her body from her neck, down to her hardened nipples, his tongue making a light trail from her breasts down to the vee of her sex before he savored her honeypot over and over.

 

Faith felt the flutters in her stomach and a growing desire between her thighs. She should walk out of the room and go back to bed. She had plenty of vibrators and was positive one would put her to sleep. Next door was her husband, however, and he was a real-life man with a cock she could never forget. If she went back to her bedroom, she knew she would just fantasize about Eli anyway.

 

Faith shed her clothing and walked towards Eli’s bed. She pulled back the sheets and climbed into bed. She lay next to Eli and cuddled with him, softly kissing his neck while a thigh rubbed against his leg.

 

Eli began to stir. He thought he was having another wet dream and woke up to stop it before he had a horrible case of blue balls. He then realized it wasn’t a dream, but Faith was in bed with him. His cock twitched in desire for her again and he wanted to give her what she needed, but only if she wanted it. “Baby girl, what’s going on? What’s…?” Eli felt Faith’s warm, naked body straddling his. “Um, are you sure about this?”

 

Faith turned Eli’s face towards hers. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

 
Twenty-Three

Pastor David and First Lady Amy Sheppard had come a long way from the start-up church they had. They began in a strip mall and eventually moved to a home church. Over the past several years, they had seen their ministry grow from a budding church full of fifty members—many had to stand against the walls during sermons—to a mega-church located in Harlem. Pastor David was on TV every Sunday morning and Amy held classes encouraging spiritual growth and discipleship at the church. They had a large staff of five ministers, ten deacons, and a host of many other men and women training to be in the cloth. Their world-famous choir boasted of forty members with an additional seven spirit dancers.

 

When David wasn’t preaching, he was helping out in the community, meeting with troubled youth and visiting prisoners. “Being a minister is a full-time job,” he once told his parishioners, “and I don’t work for God part-time.”

 

As First Lady, Amy’s schedule was just as packed as her husband’s. She worked with the community to encourage reading programs and hosted parenting classes for disadvantaged parents. She volunteered at the local food bank, and helped some parishioners with their bills.

 

But Amy had bigger problems to consider. She sat in her breakfast nook going over recipes for the upcoming Sunday brunch. She had the money to hire a caterer but she was insistent on cooking the recipes herself. She did love to cook; she was just too lazy to do it, she’d readily admit that. But when Sister Hawkins came over the other day with her homemade sweet potato pie, Amy knew hers was better.

 


Well, prove it, Sister.” Sister Hawkins said with a twinge of a smirk on her lips.

 


Prove it…” Amy harrumphed as she turned the pages in the cookbook. “…I’ll prove it when I snatch that wig off your head. Trying to show up the pastor’s wife? Girl, who are you fooling with that foolishness?”

 


Sister Amy?” The maid came to her. “Faith is here.” She stepped aside and let Faith inside the breakfast nook. “Should I get anything for you ladies?”

 


Just tea and some snacks. Thank you, Patrice.” Amy stood up and gave her daughter a hug and quickly sat back down. “I wasn’t expecting you over here. It seems like you were playing hide-and-go-find-Faith with us.”

 


Well, I’ve been busy,” Faith watched her mother study the cookbook, “preparing for the tea group on Sunday?”

 


I’m going to wipe that permanent smarmy smile off Sister Hawkins face.” Amy shook her head. “Always gotta brag about how everything is homemade. Homemade this and homemade that. But can she make her own wigs she wears every week?”

 


Mother,” Faith stifled a laugh, “that’s not Christ-like.”

 


I didn’t say anything that was not in the word of God,” Amy closed the cookbook as Patrice presented tea and pastries to the ladies, “I just made an observational point. Anyway, this visit isn’t about me and my competition with Sister Hawkins’ many wigs. What brings you over, Faith Marie?”

 

Faith took a bite of her mini éclair. It had been several months since she and Eli separated, and she’d carefully avoided the discussion with her parents. Even when she saw them at church, his absence wasn’t a surprise; Eli was known to work Sundays after a major event. He always made up his absence by a substantial donation to the church.

 

Except the donations stopped. Faith wasn’t sure if her parents noticed, because Eli always made the donations anonymously. As much as Faith would love to play ignorant to her parents, she knew they weren’t stupid; just because they never said anything, didn’t mean they didn’t know what was going on.

 

Faith finally swallowed her pride and revealed her secret. “Eli and I are separated.”

 


We know you are,” Amy replied, “we were waiting to hear it from you.”

 

The change in pronoun wasn’t lost on Faith. She could only imagine what was going through her father’s head. It had taken him a long while to warm up to Eli and she was sure the news about their separation wasn’t going to do Eli any favors. Not to mention her father’s reputation. How would he feel preaching to the world about trust and commitment when his own daughter was having issues in her marriage?

 

Faith wanted to ask how long her mother had known, who she had heard it from, but decided it was best not to divulge. She spent years bragging about her relationship; how her husband bought fancy things for her, the exotic locales they had visited and for what? For him to step out on her? For him to leave her in the middle of the night? For the two of them to be co-parents instead of a couple
parenting
?

 

Simply put, Faith was embarrassed. There was no other way around it. “I didn’t know what to say.”

 


What’s Eli doing?”

 


He was with her but not anymore,” Faith answered. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that news. A part of her silently laughed in Eli’s face, taunting him with a sharp, ‘I told you so!’ A part of her wondered if Simone was simply the first of many, and Eli would soon file for divorce. A part of her secretly hoped, however, he’d finally gotten that foolishness out of his system, and had come back home.

 


Now that you told me the problem, what is your solution?” Amy asked.

 

Faith glanced up to the ceiling. What did she want? To work on her marriage? To let Eli have what he wanted and not fight it? “I don’t know,” she meekly answered.

 


Is divorce an option?” Amy inquired.

 


No,” Faith shook her head, hoping what she said was true. The only arrangements she and Eli had talked about were informal alimony and custody arrangements. Never once did divorce come up in any talks. “It’s not an option.”

 


Do you want to give him a second chance, should he decide to come back?” Amy asked.

 


I want my home back but only if he wants it back,” Faith answered after a long pause, “I can’t force him to stay and I don’t want to make him leave… again.”

 


Sweetheart, you can’t make a man do anything,” Amy reminded her daughter, “Whatever he does is on his recognizance, not yours. Has Eli spoken to you about his plans?”

 

Eli had spoken to Faith, all right. They made love throughout the night as if it were their first time all over again. His tongue told her everything she needed to hear. His cock spoke to her over and over again. He wanted to come home. She wanted him home. If it wasn’t for the fact she was still unsure, Eli would’ve spent the night in her bed, and not the guest room. She left his room before Nathan woke up and saw what happened. “He wants to come home.”

 


You want him home, he wants to come home, and yet, there’s a bit of hesitation and doubt.” Amy raised an eyebrow.

 


What if he does it again? What if it’s not a Simone, but it’s a Rebecca, a Tameka, or somebody else? What if I started a precedent that it’s okay if he steps out because I’ll take him back?” Faith asked.

 


Then you need to make it clear to him that this is his only second chance,” Amy stated, “simple as that.”

 

Faith wished it was as simple as that. It was much more complicated. Eli made her look like a fool, not only in front of her friends and family, but her clientele. A reputation she tried so hard to establish and it was ruined; not through her actions, but her husband’s. It was beyond damaging. “I don’t know, Mom…”

 

Amy leaned in closer to her daughter. “Faith, darling, let me ask you this: are you more concerned with what people will think about you? Or are you more concerned with working on your marriage?”

 

Her mother’s questions cut to Faith’s heart. “You got me, Mom.”

 

Amy gently patted her daughter’s hand. “You know the answer, Faith Marie. If divorce isn’t an option, why is your hesitation a question? Fight for him. Fight for love. Fight for your marriage. But don’t ever leave the relationship without thoroughly exhausting all of your options.”

Other books

Cargo for the Styx by Louis Trimble
Under the Dusty Moon by Suzanne Sutherland
Miss-Fortunate Reality by Hicks, I.M.
Elemental by Emily White
The Minor Adjustment Beauty Salon by Alexander McCall Smith
The Silver Wolf by Alice Borchardt
A Dirty Job (Grim Reaper #1) by Christopher Moore
Prisoners of Tomorrow by James P. Hogan