He Who Finds A Wife 3 Nylahs Story PDF Download

PREFACE “Sometimes baby, love lies deep … a man gets buried in your soul and there ain’t no getting him out." Her mother had said that to her once. The words haunted her as she thought about Satchel. He'd been the one to end their relationship over seven years ago, so what did he want now? And what did he mean he wouldn’t stay away from her; that he’d never wanted to. She had fought hard to get over Satchel, and one thing she knew for sure ... there was no way she was letting him back in -- not after the way he'd crushed her all those years ago. She couldn’t live through that kind of pain again. No human could endure that twice in a lifetime. And, she knew just how to keep him away. Only, could she go through with it? Or, would the love that had lain so deeply within her for him resurface, leading to heartbreak all over again? *** Three years earlier “Sometimes baby, love lies deep … a man gets buried in your soul and there ain’t no getting him out,” Celia said to her daughter. “Have you ever felt that way about a man mama?” “Yes, once. Who? Daddy?” Nylah asked. “No honey. I loved your father, but a bit before I met him, there was someone else …” “You mean you loved another man more than you loved daddy?” Nylah queried, incredulous. She’d never even imagined her mother with another man. “Nylah I had a life before your father,” her mother said simply. “I was quite the looker you know. I had a few suitors before your father settled me down. But, a woman doesn’t have to tell all her secrets. In fact, there are some things she never tells another soul. That’s just the way of a woman.” “Well … why haven’t you ever told me any of this before? Did daddy know?” “You mean did he know if I dated other men before he came along? … Of course he did,” Celia answered before Nylah could confirm or deny her question. “Why do you think he was so quick to propose? He did so after three weeks of courting me, you know?” Nylah smiled and shook her head. She’d heard the story many times. It was ironic, she thought. She’d dated a man for three, almost four years and instead of proposing, he’d given her her walking papers. Her mother, on the other hand, had gotten a marriage proposal – in three weeks. Nylah often wondered about women like her mother. What did they possess that a man couldn’t resist? What secret did they have? And how did it draw a man into a lifetime commitment so quickly? Whatever special power or secret or trait it was, she hadn’t inherited it. In fact, it was just the opposite. She seemed to be able to repel suitors with very little effort. “So who was he; this other man? Why didn’t you marry him? What happened between you all?” Nylah asked, still flabbergasted that her mother had never even breathed a single word about someone who had obviously meant a great deal to her. “That’s a story for another day and another time. But I do know of a couple who had that kind of love you’re carrying around in you for Satchel. Your grandparents; your father’s mama and daddy. I’ve never seen two people more in love. I think that’s why your father was able to love me so, and why I was so devoted to him. He had the best example of what love was supposed to look and feel like – and I did my best to be the kind of wife his mother was – because lord knows my parents were a disaster. If there were two people who didn’t belong together, it was my mother and father.” Nylah hadn’t known her mother’s parents. But she smiled, thinking back on the grandparents she did know -- her father’s parents. She’d witnessed the love flow between them as effortlessly as waves crashing against an ocean shore. It was a rare site to see. Even as a child, Nylah knew that there was something special about their union. They fit, like a pair of ultra-soft leather gloves molded to your hands, that’s how closely and beautifully they melded into each other. “I want that mama. I want that so bad,” Nylah said, her throat convulsing as she swallowed the pain threatening to engulf her. “There’s someone out there for you honey. You just have to trust that.” “I don’t want someone mama. I want ‘the one.’ I want what grandma and grandpa had. … What if I’ve found the one? What if it was Satchel? What if I never feel for another man the way I feel for him? It’s been over a year and I haven’t even mustered up enough interest to go on one date.” “Give it time honey. It’ll be alright. The right man will come along. You will love again.” Celia placed her hand on her daughter’s back and rubbed it as they sat on the front porch of the little craftsman-style bungalow the Simmons had called home for four decades. It was the home Nylah had grown up in. Her mother had nursed her through all of her teenaged heartbreaks here. They’d had many talks right on the same concrete steps they sat on now. She wasn’t sure if it was fitting or pitiful that some twenty years later, her mother was still nursing her through heartbreaks. Nylah buried her face in her hands and exhaled heavily. “But will I love again like that mama?” she said, tears silently coursing down her cheeks. "Will I love like that?" she repeated. ************** Relevant Search Terms: interracial romance, intraracial romance, african american romance, contemporary romance, short romance, multicultural romance, short story fiction, short steamy romance, women's literature, steamy romance, chicklit