Remember Me (Sequel To Tragic Endings)

20. Preface Part 4: Guilty Conscience

Marshall's P.O.V.

I feel like a fucking pussy, man.

Cause I'm legit scared of facing my wife.

Ever since that day I have hinted to her that I had something to do with what's happened to her and caused her to lose her memory, I can't even fucking look at her cause it fucking breaks me.

Whenever Aisha looks at me, all fucking huge doe-eyed like, brown eyes burning into mine, practically pleading with me to just spit it out and tell her what happened, I feel like such a coward, man. But I still, I fucking can't, yo.

I can't open my mouth and tell her what I did.

Hell, maybe I should just rap about it at this point. Was always better at expressing my emotions in that way after all.

But nah...

Ain't about to let her find out like this neither.

One of these days, imma just have to man up.

One day but not today however.

She's really making it hard on me though.

Casually strolling into out bedroom after taking a shower, I immediately see that she ain't trying to play fair.

Either that, or this damn girl is really fucking horny lately. Intending to break my resolve one way or another.

God forgive me for everything I've ever done wrong in life...

Aisha is sitting at the edge of the bed, with the silk sheets wrapped around her waist, playing with her long jet black hair.

She looks up at me ever so innocently.

I think imma sleep fully clothed tonight too, cause fuck it. I'm tryna be a gentleman so bad, but I ain't that strong.

"I... uh... I think imma go sleep in one of the guestrooms tonight," I announce, barely looking at her.

"Why would you wanna do that, boy?"

She then gets up from the bed and drops the sheet on the floor.

"Why you doing this to me, yo?" I ask huskily, and I don't even recognize my own goddamn voice anymore.

She blinks a few times and steps towards me timidly.

"I don't even know," she states, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Fuck it," I mutter under my breath.

I place my hands on her waist and lift her up easily, her petite body molding to mine. Aisha's legs wrap around my waist as I kiss her. I carry her towards the bed and lower her on it, standing over her and taking off my t-shirt.

I look down at her, looking up at me in return so expectantly with her big brown eyes, and I don't know if she even truly knows me anymore. Do I care though? Like right now at this moment?