TWENTY-FOUR: SENSITIVITY

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A month or so into our marriage, I came home one night to find the apartment completely dark except for a few candles placed here and there. No music was playing, and the television was off.

"Adonis?" I called anxiously.

"In here, baby."

I turned and saw him then, sitting on the couch in the cool darkness. Beyond, the table was set for dinner and something smelled good in the kitchen. "You did all this for me? By yourself?" I asked.

"For us," he said, ignoring my last question, which made me chuckle.

"What's today? Did I forget an important date or something?" I said, beginning to run to look at the calendar in the kitchen.

"It's just a little something for us, that's all," he said, stopping me in my tracks and pulling me into him.

We sat down at the table across from each other, and Adonis served the meal. But we didn't really eat, because we started talking so deeply about our feelings.

"I love you, Selena," Adonis said. He always used my full name whenever things were serious or intense between us. "Promise me that we ain't never gonna let no bullshit come between us." His voice was as solemn as I'd ever heard it.

"I promise," I said, and told him how much I loved him, too. "I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you," I confessed.

Adonis was the first person who had ever gotten me to feel this deeply about anyone or anything. I know that he felt the same way about me. Suddenly, we were both crying, weeping silent, slow tears of joy because we had been lucky enough to find each other, and we knew that we were going to be together forever.

We laughed about it afterward, a little. But we both knew that something magical had happened. Not many people on this earth get to feel what we did. Our love for each other went even more deeply than the bonds of marriage.

Adonis had originally rented his apartment in Virginia Beach principally to use as a studio and workspace. Most of the space was dominated by a huge grand piano and a Casio electronic recording keyboard where Adonis did all of his songwriting and producing. He also made some of his own demos there; that boy could do more with a piano and a pen than anyone.

Music wasn't just Adonis's business, it was his real passion. He was becoming increasingly passionate about opening his own record label someday. This wasn't because he needed the money, but because he loved music more than just about anything, and he wanted something in his life that was all his own.

𝑇𝑂 𝐴𝐷𝑂𝑁𝐼𝑆...𝑊𝐼𝑇𝐻 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸  | 𝐷. 𝑆𝑊𝐼𝑁𝐺Where stories live. Discover now