Malik and Jade

Chapter 43 (Jade): Get The Message

Copyright © 2024 by GroveltoHEA

"I like seeing him like this. Laughing, having fun, not so serious."

My mother-in-law had come to stand beside me as I watched Malik with Nour and his friends across the yard. Our boy was now two and Malik had again planned his party, this time a knights/princesses/dragons-themed celebration of Nour's birth. Somehow, I'm not even sure how it happened, but Malik had been talked into wearing giant purple dragon wings so all the children could attack him with their foam swords.

"I had quite a time with him when he was younger. It's challenging raising a child you don't fully understand and he baffled me, especially since he came after Nasim. His brother was such an easy child; open, happy, free-spirited, intelligent, funny. And then Malik arrived, and I didn't know what to do with him. He could be charming and funny and people were drawn to him, but he only allowed them to come so close."

Other than Nasim, Malik had few close friends, so maybe keeping most people at bay had been a lifelong habit. Or preference. I wasn't sure.

"Maybe it was just the way his mind worked," his mother continued. "His intelligence was astounding, but he wasn't a child to confide in me or others. Most of the time I had no idea what he was thinking, how he was feeling, so I had to learn to read the tiny clues that would appear on his face, the way he would hold himself, gestures he would make. I had to learn how to decode my son since he would very rarely share with me."

"I can believe that." 

That had been the Malik from the early years of our marriage. Now, however, Malik shared with me all the time. On the porch. In bed at night. Even in his quick calls during the day.

"He needed more to challenge him intellectually; he was always searching out more knowledge in his free time, and he was self-contained in a way that Nasim wasn't. Nasim liked to talk everything to death, but strangely enough, he and Malik always seemed to understand each other and got on well."

"They're two very different people, but they're also as close as brothers can be."

"You could have twenty children and each one would be different," she said wisely. "But I know my son's expressions, and I can tell you that I've never seen him so happy."

We watched Malik throw back his head and laugh as Nour launched an attack on Malik's knees. Then Nasim and his boy and a few other children joined in the attack and Malik was pushed back for a moment until he grabbed Nasim's sword and started playfully fighting back, roaring and snorting like a beastly dragon should, causing the children to shriek with laughter.

"You have released something in him that he always kept coiled up tightly. Something he kept between himself and the rest of the world."

"Or maybe it was Nour," I said, not certain I could take all the credit for his transformation.

My mother-in-law laid her hand on my forearm and shook her head. "It was you! Besides, I saw the way he looked at you the first time he met you, and I thought if it was given enough time to grow, that interest in his eyes would someday be a beautiful thing."

It was a beautiful thing now, but it had come through something ugly and painful, something I didn't think we could survive at one point. Over the last few months, I'd been allowing myself to believe his words and actions, and something I'd been keeping coiled up inside after that horrible day in the hospital was slowly unfurling as Malik continued to slowly and steadily prove himself to me.

That evening, Nour hadn't even asked for stories; the minute we'd put his jammies on him, he'd just lunged for his bed and went right down. We'd stood beside his crib, gazing at our curly-headed boy and both of us thinking, no doubt, about what a journey it'd been to get here two years later.

It had taken forgiveness, obviously. Growth, most definitely. Seeking to understand, certainly. A willingness to change, to learn, to let go as we forged something new and moved toward one another in a way we hadn't before. It was better than what we had before because it was real now.

"Ready for bed?" I asked my husband with a certain smile that he correctly interpreted. 

Even though we were tired, we took our time with each other. And after, when he pulled me to him, he trailed the backs of his fingers down my cheek.

I knew what was coming.

He didn't.

"I love you, Jade."

Instead of the kiss I'd been giving him following those words, I gave him a new response that night. Something he hadn't heard in a long, long time.

"I love you."

I'd never been put on my back so fast, Malik looming over me. "I know I'm tired, but tell me again, so I know I heard that right."

Laughing, I put my hands to his face. "I love you, Malik."

"I didn't think I'd ever hear that again," he admitted before he kissed me. Then he leaned in and said in my ear, "I didn't think I deserved to."

"You did," I said. "You worked hard for so long, Malik."

"I won't stop," he promised me, and his eyes gleamed. With tears? 

"You worked your magic with the dancing lessons," I said solemnly, wanting to move him away from those heavy thoughts. It was time for the past to stop overshadowing our future.

"The dancing lessons."

"Or maybe it was the fact that you bid against yourself at least five times to get me the weekend trip to the bed and breakfast I wanted."

"How'd you find that out?"

"Someone on the fundraising committee may have mentioned it to me because she thought it was just the cutest, most adorable little thing."

Malik groaned.

"Or maybe it was the porch you built me. Or the daily calls and texts. Or the talks at night. Or the other classes we took. Or maybe it was you making space in our lives to be together and still giving me time. You never pushed, Malik. You let me choose."

"I was afraid if I didn't, you'd leave me another note stuck to the door with a knife."

"It was an accident?"

Malik laughed softly. "When your wife leaves you a note on the bedroom door with a knife through it, you know she's serious. You can't miss the message, and you better do what she wants, or you may find the knife stuck somewhere else."

"You never said anything about it."

"There really wasn't much to say in reply to that, Jade. The knife kind of spoke for itself. But I sure as hell did what you wanted."

"Well, that's good to know. Basically to get whatever I want from you, I just stick a note on the door with a knife."

Malik pressed a kiss to my lips, and I could feel him smiling. "Jade, you don't have to do that. All you need to do is ask, and I'll give you whatever you want."

"I don't know...the knife seems more dramatic."

"We've had enough drama, I think, for a lifetime."

"That we have," I agreed. "We're looking forward now."

One night about a month later, I left Malik cleaning up the dessert dishes in the sink so I could get things ready and set my plan in motion. I wrote out a short note and stuck it to the door with a knife I'd smuggled out of the kitchen earlier.

He'd get the message. If the knife didn't do it, my note would.

GIVE ME A BABY!