After that Sunday service, it became easier to talk to Marcus. Not that they were on the phone every night or trading secret messages - but when she saw him, it was different now. There was a layer of familiarity, a comfort that hadn't been there before.
Her aunt's boyfriend, Carl, seemed to have an endless list of reasons for people to come over - game nights, fish fries, card tournaments. And more often than not, Marcus was there.
The Conversations That Stuck
It started small.
One evening on Carl's back porch, a gospel playlist was playing low on the speaker - The Williams Brothers, The Canton Spirituals, Lee Williams. Marcus leaned against the railing, nodding along.
"You know this one?" he asked as a song started.
Tasha laughed. "Of course. My mama wore this track out when I was a kid."
They started talking about music - the way certain songs brought back memories, the way a lyric could hit you harder than a sermon if you were in the right place in your life.
Before she knew it, they were swapping favorite scriptures, sharing how different verses had pulled them through rough seasons. His voice carried a quiet conviction when he spoke about God - not flashy, not performative, just real.
And she found herself leaning in, not because she had to, but because she wanted to.
The Absences
Back home, Darnell was almost never around.
"Gotta run to the shop."
"Playing cards with the fellas."
"Won't be back till late."
The kids were old enough now to run with their friends, leaving Tasha with long evenings and too much quiet.
She didn't make a plan to fill that quiet. But more and more, she found herself on Carl's porch, a plate of barbecue in her lap, Marcus a few feet away, their conversations picking up right where they'd left off the last time.
The Other Woman Problem
Of course, there was her - the woman in the floral dress from the BBQ, the one who made it no secret she wanted Marcus.
She was always there, laughing too loud at his jokes, finding reasons to touch his arm. Tasha didn't say anything at first - she had no claim. But that didn't mean she didn't notice.
One night, while the group was in the kitchen grabbing refills, the woman leaned against Marcus's chair, bending just enough to make her blouse do what she wanted it to do.
Tasha walked over, smiling like she didn't have a care in the world.
"Marcus, you mind giving me a hand with these chairs on the porch?" she asked.
He stood without hesitation. The other woman straightened, her eyes narrowing just a bit.
Out on the porch, Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Chairs?"
Tasha smirked. "Nah. Just didn't like the view in there."
He chuckled, shaking his head, but he didn't go back inside until she did.
The Safe Place
Over time, Carl's house stopped feeling like just her aunt's boyfriend's place. It felt like a safe space - a place where she wasn't just Darnell's wife or the kids' mama. She was Tasha.
And Marcus, without even trying, made her remember what that felt like.