We Take this Man by Candice Dow, Daaimah S. Poole Page A

the car, Dwight called and asked me to pick something up from Wendy’s for him. He was definitely pushing it, because I was on my last legs and oh-so-tempted to enter my development, as the stone entrance gates were just yards away from where I stood. Instead I hopped in the car and whizzed over to Wendy’s drive-thru.
    No matter how many nights I walked into the building from the parking garage, I never felt safe. As usual, I darted from my car into the building and up the stairs. My heart always races even when I swipe my badge on the keypad. I was afraid that the cleaning crew could have carelessly left someone in the closet. As I sprinted to my cubicle, I crashed into Dwight.
    I yelled, “Ah!”
    He laughed and I felt silly for my paranoia, so I began laughing, too. We giggled uncontrollably for nearly ten minutes. Each time I would stop, he’d start again and vice versa. We leaned back and forth on each other trying to settle the humor until I kissed him. I don’t know what came over me, but maybe I needed him as much as he needed me at the moment. He looked at me, questioning, wondering if this was wrong. And my eyes condoned what we both felt. I kissed him again to assure him that it was okay for two needy people to seek comfort from each other. We’d both sacrificed relationships for the sake of work, and who could understand either of us more than us? In the middle of the office, he held me and pushed my hair from my face. My neck tilted back and I looked at him in awe. He held me in his strong arms and his potbelly poked into my flat stomach.
    “Are you scared of this?”
    He took a deep breath. “Not anymore. Are you?”
    “Dwight, it is what it is.”
    I don’t know what got into me, but at that moment I didn’t care about his wife or being a mistress or whether my feelings were right or wrong. It felt good and I couldn’t apologize for it. Losing his friendship for a mere three weeks left a void in me that I didn’t even realize he was filling. So whatever there was to feel—hurt or happiness or temporary satisfaction—I wanted it.
    He almost immediately flipped back into work mode, maybe out of nervousness or uncertainty. “Yeah, Alicia. We really have to figure this out.”
    “What have you done so far?”
    “The usual troubleshooting.”
    I followed him back into the server room and he talked about the problem on the way. After he was done, I asked, “What are we going to do about us?”
    “I’ve never even considered cheating on my wife, I swear.”
    “I know, Dwight, but I don’t believe in fighting what’s natural. I don’t want to be the other woman. I’ve never done anything like this before,” I lied.
    “I know and I don’t want to hurt you or tell you that I’m not trying to work on my marriage, because I am.”
    “I understand and I realize that everything ain’t forever, but right now I think I want to experience whatever we’re supposed to experience together.”
    He took a deep breath. “Alicia, I’ve been trying to fight what I feel and do what’s right, because I believe in marriage. My father wasn’t there and I never wanted to be that man. But it’s hard when you got someone fighting you. I’m getting tired.”
    Fatigue covered him and I just wanted to kiss him to let him know it would be okay. Maybe it was his honesty or his sincerity or his schoolboy naïveté that made me want to abandon my no-more-married-men philosophy, but I was ready and open. I didn’t comment, simply observed him.
    “Then there’s you. You’re smart and funny. You listen. You watch
SportsCenter
. You know how to express yourself without a whole bunch of yelling and screaming. You’re a football fanatic. I mean, I’m starting to wonder if Tracey and I ever had anything in common.”
    Every sensory nerve in my body perked up. He was right where I needed him. Trying not to seem insensitive, I said, “Could it just be cause you guys are so far apart?”
    “It could be that, or