"Baby come here." Beyoncé said soon as Jay entered the house from a long day of meetings. He followed her voice, meeting her in the kitchen.
"Sup?" He placed a kiss on her forehead and watched as she held the spoon to his lips, "What you tryna feed me?"
He slowly opened his mouth as she fed him a spoonful of the Alfredo sauce she had made from scratch.
She put her hand on her hip, waiting on him to give her some type of response, "Good?"
"What is it?" He asked again.
"Alfredo sauce. Made it all on my own." She said with a wink.
He chuckled, "I'm not gonna hold you, it taste really good. High five."
She rolled her eyes and held her hand up to greet his. "Whatever. How was work?"
He shrugged, watching her mix the shrimp with her noodles and stir it around, "The usual. One of my artists album release party is tonight, so I'ma head out there later."
"Oh," she said, putting a shrimp in her mouth, "After dinner right?"
He smiled and placed a kiss on her lips, "Of course. When will it be done?"
"Soon as my broccoli done, so the next ten minutes."
As Beyoncé prepared dinner, he headed to their bedroom to shower and change clothes. His shower ran longer than usual because he found himself in deep thought.
His mind ran across his mother, immediately making him upset that he was thinking about her.
He haven't seen or talked to his mother since he was three years old, and even then he couldn't remember.
Growing up, his father always instilled toughness into him. Men didn't cry, men didn't complain, and men always held their own, his father would say.
He never had time to digest the fact that everyone around him had their mother and he didn't. Acting tough was his way of forgetting about her.
But she ran across his mind everyday. He wanted to know why. Why him? Why didn't she want him?
He laughed the thoughts off and shook his head, "I'm tripping." He mumbled, stepping out the shower and cleaning himself off.
Minutes later he found himself downstairs eating dinner with Beyoncé. He had even finished his plate and got a second one.
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"You getting much better." He said to her. They both laughed, but it was definitely true.
She was practicing more, becoming more comfortable cooking for her man and using him as her taste dummy.
"Thank you babe. Next, I want to try something different. Maybe a little soul food. I hear it's hard trying to get cornbread to be perfect though."
