Jasmine Wants His Heart, Marriage

The following is written in the voice of Jasmine Toder, a 27-year-old office manager for a doctor’s office. She is dating a 30-year-old attorney, Tate Jackson. Jasmine is a character in "Choosing Mr. Wrong."
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As I awake, I reach over for Tate. Wow! These 500-count blue sheets feel good against my body, but I do not feel Tate.

There’s a note on the pillow.

“Good Morning, My Sweet J! Gotta run to the office to get a file. I’ll bring your favorite breakfast when I return. One sexual favor deserves another. Love T.”

And as usual, he drew a heart with a smiley face inside.

I doze back off but I soon smell breakfast.

Tate found heart-shaped plates and flutes with hearts as the base at a store somewhere and as I peer around the corner into the kitchen, I see him setting everything up.

“Hey, Tate.”

“Hey, J. How did you sleep?”

“Like a newborn babe,” I respond and chuckle.

“I have your favorite breakfast – cheesy eggs, sausage, grits and toast.”

“Thanks, Babe.”

“I also stopped at the market and picked up fresh strawberries for later.”

He looks over at me and raises his brows a bit to make a face showing surprise.

I stare back but he doesn’t realize that I am looking at his golden brown-skin and bald head, his goatee and whew those nice muscular arms in that fitted green T-shirt.

The “I’ll drop you off at your car after breakfast J,” comment brought my attention back to breakfast.

He finishes setting the table and we sit down to eat. Just when we have both just about cleared our plates, I say, “T, don’t you think what we have is really special?”

“The sex,” he responds.

“No, T. Us. Everything about us.”

“Yes, J.”

“So do you see us being together forever?”

“J, why do you always have to talk about marriage.”

“What do you mean?” I answer.

“J, you know. Stop acting crazy.”

I’m up from the table and heading for the bedroom. Oh, I have to get out of here. Acting crazy. No he didn’t just say that to me.

My furiously fast pace goes unnoticed. Tate is still sitting at the table drinking his mimosa.

“Hmmm, I don’t want anything else but to get out of here. Stick those strawberries up your nose,” I say to myself.

“T, I’m ready. Can you take me to my car?”

“Sure, babe. You aren’t upset are you?” he says.

“Should I be?”

“No. You know I love you, girl,” he says.

I’m soon back at my car and this time it’s me rushing to get out of Tate’s car. I reach over and give him a peck.

“Bye, babe,” he says.

“Bye,” and I lunge from his car like a track star.

Soon, I’m home and I grab the keys out of the ignition and head toward my door. I unlock it and before I’m in the house, my cell phone is ringing.

I look at the phone and say, “What? What do you want. I’m acting crazy, remember.”

I push end and head for the bathroom.

"I’m going to get cleaned up and make it a spa day. I’m gonna get a full body massage including the cranial massage and refloxology," I say to myself while standing in front of the mirror.

Crazy. I’ll show him crazy."