Chapter 9

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There was an expensive looking car parked in the one parking slot my mom had available for visitors, the deep tint and the shiny metal hinted at luxurious living

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There was an expensive looking car parked in the one parking slot my mom had available for visitors, the deep tint and the shiny metal hinted at luxurious living. Whoever owned this car was very obviously swimming in money.

As I approached the door, I could hear the deep rumble of a man's voice. Does Mommy have a boyfriend? Is that what's happening here?

I was about to knock when the door swung open to reveal a tall, handsome dark-skinned man who seemed to be in his forties, probably a few years older than my mom. He did a double take on the threshold and stared at me for a second before he cleared his throat and asked me to make room for him to get past me.

"Oh, my bad." I said with a smile that he readily returned.

"No problem, my dear." he said politely as he walked towards the car that was evidently his. I was a little surprised that someone dressed as casually as he was was actually driving around in a car that seemed better fitted for a politician.

"Woo, Mommy." I said as I finally walked into the house. "Who was that handsome man that just walked out of your house? Do you have a boyfriend, Desirée?"

I was laughing at my silly question  when I turned around and spotted my mom at the kitchen island, her face a mixture of stress and panic. "Eh eh, Mommy. What's up? Are you okay?"

"Aisha." she said tentatively. "I wasn't expecting you."

"I know. I just dropped by to say hi and dig through my old art supplies before I head to Nella's place for the housewarming get together thing they're throwing."

My mom rolled her eyes, now looking slightly irritated. "You and that art you love so much."

The way she'd said those words took me back to a stressful time in my teenage years when my mom would point out a whole bunch of stuff about me that she wasn't too pleased with. I took a breath to stop myself from reacting like I used to when I was younger. For some reason, my love for creating art had always unnerved my mom and had often been a source of conflict between us. Back then, we'd constantly butt heads, with her insisting that I focus on my schooling and me reminding her that I was a straight A student and that my love for art had never once negatively affected my academic performance.

"Okay. I'm going to assume you're saying that out of frustration from whatever conversation you just had with that man, because I'm sure your bad mood has nothing to do with me." I said, taking a step back and awkwardly averting my eyes.

"Oh, my baby." my mom said, leaving her bar stool to pull me into a hug. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. I'm just a little flustered."

"Seriously, Mommy. What is it? Who was that guy?" I asked again, hoping she'd tell me this time.

"He's a coworker of mine. We're working on a hectic deadline and I was a bit frustrated because we're stuck on something."

"Oh. Hope that works out for y'all." I said. My mom offered a weak smile as she created some distance between us.

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