𝐈𝐟 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐧𝐞𝐰

Twenty-Nine.

Nicki. Haven't heard that name in a while.

"Thank you, Aubrey. I appreciate the support more than you know. I can't take all the credit though, considering you were the one to put me on to my first big client. I remember being so nervous but grateful for the opportunity, you know? You've always believed in me and my craft." I reminisced with a small smile.

He unexpectedly lifted my hand off the table, bringing it towards his face as he placed a lingering kiss on the back of it.

"As I've told you before, there's no need to thank me. Your talent speaks for itself and I would do it all over again if I had to. Anything to see you happy."

I pulled my hand back out of his grasp, shifting in my seat as I began feeling slightly uncomfortable.

Aubrey always been the type to go the extra mile for me but he knows I would never, and I mean never, be more than friends with him. I've made that clear to him years ago.

He's always felt the need to touch me whether it's hugging me a few seconds longer, brushing his hand against my lower back, the intense staring, the hand kisses, it can all be too overbearing.

I've brought this up before and he acted as if he was so offended. He said he's naturally generous. Whatever the fuck that means.

We continued chatting it up about his businesses and relocation for about twenty minutes until my phone started to vibrate.

Incoming Call: My girlfriend💍.

"I uh, I have to go Aubrey. I have some deadlines I need to meet by the end of today but I'll be sure to keep in touch. It was nice seeing you again." I said, abruptly standing from my seat.

"Need me to walk you to your car?"

••••
Onika POV
Present Day
10:05 a.m.

It's been exactly sixteen days and seventeen hours since I've stopped harming myself.

It may not seem like a long time or a big enough time gap to praise myself for but I'm going to toot my own horn anyway.

I couldn't go a day without needing to feel the sharpness of the cold metal poking at my skin and proceeding with a perfect slice, from one end to the other, on the palest tone of my body.

I believed that the more blood I caused to pour out of me, the better. And even watching the red liquid seep out, dripping like thick water, I still didn't feel a thing. Sometimes I wasn't satisfied enough and would continue to do damage until I was gratified with the destruction I've made.

Now I actually get chills just thinking about doing such torment myself. I look back and can't even come up with a concept of how I even got started doing so. That's a chapter in my life that will stay closed. A huge lessened learned for me, if anything.

Ever since Beyoncé caught me in the act, I haven't looked at a blade again. I actually cringe at times when my gaze comes across any sharp object. Knives included and with me being chef, it doesn't help at all but I'm working on over coming this new found uncomfortableness.

I didn't realize the impact something of the sort could have on my daughter. Locking her out of my room and blocking out the world just for a few minutes to hours, wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth my daughters tears and her feeling abandoned.

Maybe I am a bad mother.

I should be setting an example, not being the reason for her emotional pain. I didn't mean to cause her any sadness and I hope she understands that one day.