Charlie's Angel

55

Chris

It's been two years, and both of us are completely different people.

"Oh, shit," I chuckled, catching her lips between mine. "I gotta finish packin'."

I pecked her lips for the umpteenth time that morning and released her from my grasp.

I was leaving in two days for California. It was a quick trip out to UCLA to check out the campus. When things began to settle down, Charlie and I had a long talk about me applying there. She was all for it, so I sent in my application. I wasn't accepted or anything, but they were impressed with me.

They musta really liked me because they invited me to tour the campus and meet the Dean. How that happened, a nigga ain't have a clue.

"I'm still mad that you're gonna be gone so close to our anniversary," she sighed, shifting to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. "Do you have to go?"

I chuckled, "I gotta go meet the Dean, baby. I'll see if I can come back early, aight? Besides, I'll only be gone for four days. I'll be back the day before our anniversary."

I leaned myself up against the counter and folded my arms across my chest and watched her as she dug through the cabinets to make pancakes. I watched her with a big-ass grin on my face.

The little things made me appreciate her even more every single day. I was so incredibly grateful for her, and I loved her more than anything. Nothing she did ever pissed me off; she actually taught me how to remain patient with everything, and I appreciated that.

Her outfit for the day interested me. She picked out one of my baseball jerseys and chose to tuck the front of it into her high-waisted shorts. She also wore some knee-high a socks with Timberlands.

In the past two years, she was totally brand new. Her independence was something that was blossoming with her and I only encouraged it. After many years of depending on a bitch-ass nigga for a husband, I knew it felt amazing to do for herself. She was able to find a new job so she could support herself and Paris if anything ever happened to me–which it wasn't going to. She developed her own style, too. She went for a more urban, street, tomboy style and I didn't have a problem with. Even if I did, I couldn't dictate how she dressed and I would never want to.

She was an all-around amazing person and I was so proud of her.

"Breakfast for my king," she smiled when she put my plate in front of me. She kissed my cheek softly and climbed into my lap to feed me. "Tell me if you don't like it and I'll make you something else, okay?"

I wrapped an arm around her waist and smiled, watching her eyes squint in concentration to make sure she didn't drop any of the syrup on my bare chest. She took turns feeding me and then herself, giving me gentle kisses in between bites.

"So what exactly are we doing today?"

Our week of celebration began late last night; hours upon hours of lovemaking. I shrugged, "Whatever you wanna do. Your choice."

She tossed her curls over her shoulder and bit her lip for a second before giggling and kissing my lips again. "Baby, can we go to the aquarium? Please please please!"

"Of course, babe," I chuckled. "Is that all you wanna do?"

"Um," she trailed, thinking. "Let's go on a picnic."

"You got it," I smirked, squeezing her ass roughly. "Race you to the shower."

***

Have you ever been in love or found yet another reason to fall in love with someone?