I never wanted to fall in love.
At thirty-seven years of age, I haven't taken the plunge, nor do I plan to. I've seen the damage love can do. It pretends to care, but then it tears a person down. It's manipulative. Damaging. It lies. It hurts. It makes one weak. I know that all too well after seeing what it did to my dear mother. That's why when women – beautiful, successful women – try to get my attention, I easily shun them. All of them. They see the exceptionally fine, black man with money. They know nothing of the dark secrets I carry – secrets I can never share with anyone.
And then SHE happened – just appeared in my life out of nowhere.
Her gaze left me speechless while igniting a fire in my soul, stirring emotions I swore never to embrace. Something awakens inside me for the first time in decades, and I can't control it. I'm not supposed to have these feelings. I was dead inside. Where did these desires come from? Why do I have this potent yearning to be close to her? To touch her? To kiss her lips?
his can't happen.
So, I fight it. I can't fall for her. Love was never a part of my plan. But these feelings coursing through my body are real, and I don't know if avoiding her is something my heart will allow me to do.