You Waited

Copyright © 2023 by Yolanda Jolante All rights reserved. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in, or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known, hereinafter invented, without express written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below. Typewriter Pub, an imprint of Blvnp Incorporated A Nevada Corporation 1887 Whitney Mesa DR #2002 Henderson, NV 89014 www.typewriterpub.com/[email protected] ISBN: 978-1-64434-270-1 DISCLAIMER This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. While references might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. YOU WAITED YOLANDA JOLANTE Table of Contents CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE CHAPTER THIRTY CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE CHAPTER FORTY CHAPTER FORTY-ONE CHAPTER FORTY-TWO CHAPTER FORTY-THREE CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE CHAPTER FORTY-SIX CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT CHAPTER FORTY-NINE CHAPTER FIFTY CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE CHAPTER SIXTY EPILOGUE I dedicate this book to my family: My mother, who has been my pillar of strength and because of her prayers, she has kept me going. Dad aka Mr Nama, for his support My big sister, Amanda, for always believing in me and never allowing me to even doubt myself. My younger sister Khanya, she is so encouraging and has always given time to listen to my stories or any ideas I had. And my other younger siblings, Mihle, Sbabalwe and Sange, their own little stories also brighten my day. I want to also dedicate this story to my Wattpad readers, who have shown immense love for this book. Thank you for your support. CHAPTER ONE I sat cross-legged on the couch, book in hand, and Kenny G playing in the background as I waited, like every other night, for Keith. We’ve been married for two years now, and one would think I’d grow tired of waiting for him, just for him to do the same thing: make little to no acknowledgment of my existence. But that wasn’t the case. The hope of that one day still lies within. Keith Salvatore. Twenty-six years old. Successful CEO and owner of Salvatore Enterprises and other assorted ventures. Good-looking. Talented. A presence from which an air of authority and mystery emanates. The type of person who works well under pressure. Never makes rash decisions, and has a way of making his point with the simplest of words. Being straightforward—and sometimes blunt—I found myself hearing him when we first met, without much further explanation of what he needed and wanted. Despite this, our marriage was not one of love. He would often ignore me most of the time, never really showing me off to people like most husbands do. Though he was cold, he wasn’t terrible. He never pressures me into doing anything, and he respects me enough to never cheat on me. He provides for me, and because of that, I live comfortably. Given our rocky relationship, I fear that he may someday meet someone who truly captures his heart. If that happens, it may hurt me, but I’d let it be. But he would have to tell me upfront. I’d want him to tell it straight to me. That would be much better than me suddenly discovering it. In this waiting game of mine, I’ve been holding on to all hope I have left in me, not letting doubt consume me, and believing that one day, it shall come. Finally, I heard the front door open. I looked toward the living room doorway, waiting to see him pass by. I could hear his footsteps as he walked on the tiled floor, and as the sound got closer, I finally glimpsed him. Just as he walked past the doorway on the way to the stairs, he stopped in his tracks and turned his head, looking at me before I could say anything. Not wasting any time, I put my book down on the couch. As I started walking toward him, I held my breath, not wanting him to turn his back. I almost sighed out loud in relief when he stayed put. I stopped a few steps from him, not wanting to unintentionally put him off. I took in his six-foot-three-inch frame and his somewhat-disheveled sleek black hair—he must’ve just run his hand through it. Captivating blue eyes. Tan, smooth skin. Wonderfully-shaped lips. In our two years of marriage, I’d grown to love him, and I intend to give him all the love I can offer. “Hello.” My voice, as usual, was lower in his presence. All I received was a nod. Not bad, at least it was a response. “Umm . . . how was work?” “Fine, work was just fine. I’m tired, so I’ll just head to bed.” There it was—his velvety voice that made me nervous and filled my stomach with butterflies. “Well, dinner is ready, I’ll just heat it up real quick . . .” I trailed off, heading for the kitchen. “No, I’m not that hungry.” I turned around and saw him continuing on his way to the stairs. “Oh, okay . . .” I sat back down on the couch, feeling a twinge of disappointment.