𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐘; yahya abdul-mateen ii

002; HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM.

"A divorce?!"

YAHYA'S HEADACHE CONTINUED TO worsen by the minute and the screech of surprise in Ja'Marcus' tone did anything, but help. Yahya was thankful for the cemented soundproof walls of his office that overlooked the grandest capital city of Washington D.C. just seventeen stories above the ground. The last thing Yahya needed was to have his marital issues spilling through the hallways at work, at least not while he's on the path of making partner at the number two law firm in the country.

"I guess word sure does travel fast." Yahya sighed while massaging his temples with closed eyes.

He's occupied his desk chair at minimum of thirty minutes since his cousin's spontaneous arrival. To Yahya, those thirty minutes felt like an eternity of two hours. Yahya and Ja'Marcus were the first of favorite cousins in their Haitian-American family.

"Very fast. Even faster when your wife is hysterically blowing up everybody's damn phone like regular people don't sleep during regular hours," Ja'Marcus said.

Ja'Marcus continued, "Bro, can you believe she had Tessa and I up at 1 o'clock this morning?"

An expression of subtle annoyance plastered on Ja'Marcus' face. Prior to leaving from George Bush Intercontinental Airport, Ja'Marcus was running on little to no sleep while on a three-hour phone call with his cousin-in-law, trying his best at playing peacemaker on behalf of Yahya. Ja'Marcus wasn't very skilled at deciphering through her hundreds of messages, literally.

Yahya smacked his lips at his cousin's exaggeration, "Negro, please. It's only a one-hour time difference."

"Not when you're still on Germany time," Ja'Marcus laughs.

It wasn't long before Yahya's phone vibrated against his desk for a second time only to see an incoming call from his mother for a third time in the last fifteen minutes. He opened his eyes to glance at his mother's contact name before returning back to his meditation.

There was a moment of silence between the two cousins. The comings and goings of Yahya's fellow colleagues from desk to desk, ringing landlines with clients on the other ends, and the multiple meetings being held were heard throughout the firm.

"You know she's going to keep calling you until you pick up, right?"

"Yeah. Mom can be a little persistent," he chuckles in thought.

Ja'Marcus clears his throat to put on his best Haitian impersonation of his aunt, "Bon kè sansib, Yahya! Poukisa Charlotte ou fache?" Goodness gracious, Yahya! Why is your Charlotte upset?

Yahya couldn't resist the laughter, yet it was something he needed. The old, invisible tear stains cracked along his skin as his high cheekbones rose, but soon fell back into their usual place. Yahya was trying his best to keep his laughter to a minimum to keep from vomiting. Unfortunately, he was starting to slowly lose the battle to the worst hangover he's ever experienced.

Ja'Marcus stands to his feet. He takes a few steps away from Yahya's desk before turning around on his heels to the sounds of his cousin retching into a nearby trash can. Chills of disgust shivered down his spine.

He didn't consume alcohol often, but after yesterday evening's tumultuous therapy session with Charlotte at Dr. Wess' office, Yahya wanted to forget all of his troubles for the rest of the night.

"So, a divorce, huh?" Ja'Marcus asks.

Yahya nodded his head in agreement.

"You know it is normal for couples to have issues in their marriages and relationships... even normal enough for Tessa and I, but you also know we don't come from a family of divorce, kinfolk."