Enfield Embrace
"Social worker Chioma helps families in crisis—but when thick Zimbabwean nurse Tendai walks into her life, she realizes she's been ignoring her own needs for far too long."
Chioma's job was helping others.
Her own life? A mess.
Single. Overworked. Touch-starved. She couldn't remember the last time someone had held her.
Then Tendai transferred to Enfield's community health team.
Thick. Warm. Zimbabwean with an accent like honey. She looked at Chioma's caseload and clicked her tongue.
"You're burning out. When did you last eat properly?"
"I'm fine—"
"You're not. Come. I'm making sadza. You're eating."
Tendai's flat was warm and full of laughter.
Over sadza and relish, Chioma felt something crack inside her.
"Why are you being kind to me?"
"Because you need it." Tendai reached across the table. "And because I've been watching you. Wanting to help. Wanting... more."
"More?"
"Don't pretend you don't feel it too."
Chioma should have left.
Instead, she leaned across the table and kissed Tendai, tasting the food they'd shared.
"I haven't been touched in so long," Chioma confessed.
"Then let me touch you." Tendai stood and pulled her up. "Let me show you what it's like to be cared for."
In the bedroom, Tendai worshipped her.
Every inch of her neglected body received attention. Kisses on her shoulders. Hands on her thick hips. A mouth between her thighs that made her forget every crisis she'd ever managed.
"You're beautiful," Tendai murmured. "You matter. You deserve this."
Chioma cried when she came.
Relief. Release. Finally being seen.
Tendai held her through the tears, strong and patient.
"I've got you," she whispered. "I've got you."
"I didn't know I needed this."
"You did. You were just too busy saving everyone else to save yourself."
The relationship grew like something planted in good soil.
Tendai made sure Chioma ate. Slept. Rested.
And every night, she reminded Chioma what desire felt like.
"You're spoiling me," Chioma complained.
"You deserve spoiling." Tendai kissed her forehead. "Someone has to care for the caregiver."
"And that's you?"
"For as long as you'll let me."
Enfield's best social worker had finally found someone to come home to.
And she'd never been more grateful for a home-cooked meal.