The early morning sun filters in through a gap in my deep pink curtain. A ray of sunshine flits across my bed, bringing my bedroom to life.
I nestle further into my bed, trying to chase away the early morning nip. I exhale a content sigh. There's no place like home.
Truly there isn't.
A light breeze flutters my curtain and I welcome the hint of salty air entering my nostrils.
I turn around, trying to untwist myself from my burrito and I turn on my back. I throw my arms above my head, and I stretch. Unladylike noises rumble to life within my throat as I stretch all the muscles in my body.
"Fuck yes," I say to myself with a guttural moan. I stare at the digital clock on my nightstand, unable to comprehend the numbers. I reach for my phone to check the time.
The clock on my nightstand is incorrect, it's mistaken. I don't trust it for a second. Eleven fifty-six AM. I never sleep so late.
Shit! I drop my phone on my nightstand with a soft thud against the light wood.
The time's right.
My bad.
So much for not trusting the clock. I can't even trust my own trust – I snort at my own lame ass joke that doesn't even make sense.
I sit upright in bed, rubbing my eyes with my palms and I reach for my phone again.
Four missed calls.
Two missed video calls.
Three texts.
All from Justin.
Justin, my love: Good morning, love.
Justin, my love: I you have an amazing day with your parents. Call me when you can. I miss you.
Justin, my love: *Hope. Lol my bad. I love you.
I smile, my chest inflating with love, making me feel all giddy, gooey, and warm inside.
I dial his number and bring my phone to my ear.
But there's no answer.
I try calling three more times but still no answer. I type out a quick text and send it.
Me: it seems we keep missing each other. Video call tonight at eight PM? I love and miss you, too. So, so much, xx.
Longing for Justin weighs my heart down as I clutch my phone to my chest before placing it down. I get out of bed and walk through the house, "mama!" Calling for my mom.
I walk into our white and beige kitchen with grey and black kitchen cabinets. Black and silver appliances, going with the theme of the cabinets, decorates the space.
The black and silver Nespresso coffee maker I sent just for the sake of it sits on the counter, seemingly untouched. I search the cabinets for the coffee capsules I sent along with it, and I find what I'm looking for, most capsules used.
I get to work frothing the milk and preparing the coffee. The dark roast aroma fills the kitchen and I salivate as the heavenly aroma fills my nostrils.
I attempt but fail miserably to do some coffee art. Meh, it doesn't matter. I sip my coffee, leaning against the kitchen cabinet. My taste buds explode from the rich flavor dancing across my tongue, and I moan in delight from the orgasmic taste.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, tastes better than a good cup of coffee.
I don't stop until my cup is empty, spilling the very last drop down my gullet. I wash the few dishes I used, and I wipe off the counter.
I lean against the kitchen island, inspecting an empty round glass fruit bowl with three glass legs in the center. The top part, in the shape of flower petals, is rimmed with gold. The glass is transparent with frosted glass stems and leaves all around the bowl.
The design is unique and dainty. Extraordinarily beautiful. Just like my mom. I raise the bowl in the air, and I read aloud, "Southside Glass. Interesting."
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Mama walks into the kitchen with her green garden gloves, her hair clipped back, and a pair of spectacles perched on her small nose.
"It is," I smile. "Where'd you get it?" I ask as she removes her glasses.
Uncertainty flashes in mama's blue orbs before a smile curls her lips. "Southside Glass. It opened five years ago."
"Oh," I place the bowl down, running my finger along the gold rim. "Are they still open?"
"What is this?" A question on top of a question, noted. Mama raises my lilac pajama top higher up my back. Not that she needed to. It's a crop top for ultimate comfort. I feel mama's fingers on my ribcage on the left-hand side of my back.
"It's a tattoo," I smile sheepishly. "I got it six years ago."
"What kind of butterfly is this?" Mom traces the intricate lines of my black and purple butterfly.
"Celtic."
"It's beautiful, Telly. The purple pops against your tanned skin."
"Thanks mama."
"What's it mean?"
"It symbolizes change," I smile, telling half-truths.
"I see," mama hums before clapping her hands together. "Let me prepare you something to eat. You must be starving after waking up so late."
"I can do it," I assure her. "And you could've woken me. I don't know what happened. I never sleep so late," I huff.
"Nonsense. Go wash up."
I'm about to protest but one stern look from my mom and I'm hugging her from behind, inhaling her fragrant Jasmine, peaches, and vanilla laced with the fresh scent of soil. "Thank you," I say, kissing her cheek.
I stop in the doorway as she opens the silver fridge, the words about Justin's visit next week dying on my tongue. Instead, I choose to continue on my path to shower. I turn the water on, making sure the temperature is right.
The bathroom fills with steam, and I remove my pjs, stepping into the white and baby blue tiled shower. I stick my hand under the water, testing the temperature and it's hot enough for me to handle.
I close the glass door, tilting my face towards the shower head, and run my fingers through my hair.
I want to tell my parents about Justin's planned visit. Warm them up to the idea but I know. My parents love Alec. They've loved him since they met him. My dad made it his priority to do all the things with Alec his father could no longer do. Dad showed him the ropes of boyhood and manhood.
My dad taught Alec how to fish, and how to shave. Dad had 'the' talk with him and the importance of consent and respect. He taught him the fundamentals of dating. Most importantly, dad taught him how to love and treat me – a lesson that went to waste.
Dad taught him everything he knew about sport. Alec's love for sport stems from his relationship with my father.
Dad was there for Alec just as much as he was there for me throughout our lives. It didn't matter if our accomplishment, milestone, or occasion was minor or colossal.
Dad was our number one supporter, routing for us to succeed and motivating us when we didn't. Pushing us to be better. Making us believe in ourselves. Dad taught us to never give up.
My point isn't what an amazing man my father is 'cause believe you me, as amazing as he is. He's equally strict.
He reprimanded Alec and I when we fucked up with juvenal things like lying, back chatting, accidentally stealing canned tuna for a cat and so much more.
Dad punished us equally, with Tracey's permission, when we set fire to Mr. Donald's boat or when we stole Mr. Donald's moonshine or when we lit firecrackers in our school auditorium or – wait, this isn't the point.
My point is my parents love Alec.
Him and Tracey have been a part of our family since I was five.
Will my parents accept Justin into their lives?
Will they welcome him into our family with open arms?
Justin will be replacing Alec as their son in law.
Okay, I know what you're going to say.
That's impossible. Justin can never replace Alec as the son in law of this family irrespective of our divorce or not.
And sure, you might be right, but it won't change the fact that I'm going to marry Justin.
But Telana, you'll say. You might sever ties with Alec by divorcing him but he's still a part of your family. More than you'd care to admit.
And then, I'd say...you're right and realize how completely insane I am for having an argument with myself. Going back and forth, making solid points. Pssh.
I lost my own argument against myself – solid points, my ass.
I know Justin can never replace Alec – no one can replace Alec. I mean, when it comes to my parents, but he isn't going to try.
He makes me happy. He loves me and I love him.
There's nothing to it.
Whether my folks like it or not. I'm divorcing Alec and I'm marrying Justin. They'll understand when they meet him.
He's someone worth my time and he's worth theirs.
If not, I'm still going to marry him with or without their approval.
I'd prefer to do it with their approval, but we don't always get what we want in life. Sometimes we just have to make do with what we can.
Right?
I finish my shower, brush my teeth, do the whole skincare routine and jog on my tiptoes, leaving a trail of water all the way to my bedroom as my hair drips.
I rummage through my luggage and yes. Although I didn't plan to stay here for more than a few hours, I still packed.
A woman needs options.
I planned to stay two hours tops, but you never know when the unexpected may be bestowed upon you.
I hate being unprepared.
I grab a red thong out of my suitcase, leaving the matching death trap and I slip my thong over my thighs. I toss my blue denims aside, searching for my favorite black skinny jean and I maneuver it on.
I hate putting jeans on after a shower. It always seems harder to get on than usual.
I pair it with a white silk, backless top, allowing my tattoo to be on display, and I tie it all together with white sandals adorning rhinestones.
I rub a towel over my hair before running a brush through it and allowing it to dry naturally.
I run my fingers along our family photos lining the hallway until I reach one with Alec and I in the middle. Our parents standing behind us with proud smiles.
It was his final game. A pivotal moment in his football career. The one which would've sealed his fate and guaranteed him a scholarship.
The week prior, he was told the scholarship is his without a doubt, but the scouts wanted to see one more game before finalizing it.
In the photo, outside my parents' home, we're all smiling proudly at the camera. Alec, however, is looking at me with so much love and warmth.
Alec and his mom came over before the big game so we could all go together. He wanted to commemorate the day with pictures. He changed into his gear so we could coordinate. I was wearing his jersey with his number. Like I did for every game.
I always felt proud to wear his jersey. To show I was his and he was mine.
That night, our lives changed.
I knew it.
He knew it.
If only we knew the events that occurred would change the course of our future, dramatically.
If only.
I sigh, my shoulders sagging with the weight of my past. I run my fingertips over his face wishing things could've been different.
But it is what it is.
I drop my hand, smiling lugubriously at the oblivious couple who were once each other's everything. She was willing to give him the moon and the stars and everything to do with outer space.
He was willing to give her the world, any world, so long as she was happy.
In a blink of an eye, the oblivious happy couple in the picture, their world including the farthest-reaching point in space, exploded.
One wrong move and their lives changed forever. Rendering the end of their relationship, absolute.
A year after the picture was taken and the happy couple was a ghost of what they once were. There was no turning back for them.
You see, when their world exploded, all the matter from the world they shared, created a Big Bang, forming two smaller, separate worlds. Each inhabiting their own separate world. Pushing them further and further apart.
Now, they're worlds apart.
They will always be worlds apart.
"Telana?" Mom snaps me from my thoughts. "Are you alright?"
"I am," I smile, swallowing the tight knot lodged in my esophagus. "Walking down here is like takin a roller-coaster down memory lane."
"I'm sorry. I'll take it down."
"No, mama. It's okay," I take her hand, squeezing it gently.
"Let's go eat," mom says, squeezing my hand in return.
I follow her silently, rubbing my thumb along her smooth hand to bring myself comfort.
I pull out a chair around the kitchen island and sit.
"Hope chicken salad is okay," mom says placing a bowl filled with chopped chicken, feta cheese. salad greens, cherry tomatoes, onions, and mayo.
"It's perfect," I grab a plate, piling the salad on. I take a fork full into my mouth and moan. "I can't remember when last I had this.
Mom smiles as I continue inhaling my food, moaning with every bite. Before I know it, I'm going for seconds. I'm going after the deliciousness rather than filling my already full stomach.
"Have you been eating?" Mama asks, placing her fork down on her empty plate.
"Mmhmm," I hum with my unchewed, last bite in my mouth. "But nothing nearly as good as this," I say after chewing and swallowing.
Mama chuckles, her blue orbs shining with mirth as she clears our plates and places them in the dishwasher. "Any plans for today?"
"I, uh," I scratch the back of my neck awkwardly. "I'm going over to Alec's."
"For?" Mama asks, wiping her hands off on a white and pink tea towel.
"To go over the divorce papers," I mumble uncomfortably, twisting my fingers.
"You know, Telana," mama props her hands on her hips, a crease forming between her thin brows. "Have you considered what you're doing is wrong?"
"I know I'm doing the right thing." At least that's what I think.
"Oh, bless your heart. You can't even talk to your own mama about it, how can it possibly be the right thing?"
"I," I pause, my brow furrowing, and I squeeze my lips together. "I know how much y'all love him, mama."
"You can always talk to me about anything. You are my daughter, first," she says. "If you're feeling uncomfortable, perhaps you should start figuring out why, Telly 'cause you've never been like this with me."
"Mama," I sigh. She's right. I haven't felt uncomfortable talking to my mom about anything. Until now.
"Take this with you," she hands me a small paper bag with a frown. "It's bones for Hades."
"Mama, it isn't like that." Lies. It's exactly like that.
She walks out into the back garden without a response. Guilt settles in my stomach but there's nothing I can do to fix it.
With a frustrated grunt, I snatch the brown bag off the kitchen island, and I walk out the front door. I glare at the sidewalk as I walk with my head bowed, avoiding majority of the cracks. Step on a crack, you'll break your mama's back. Pssh, I've already broken her heart with disappointment.
"Oh, bless your heart. You can't even talk to your own mama about it, how can it possibly be the right thing?" Mom's words come back to bite me in the ass, echoing in my mind on a loop.
The more I focus on it, the more I realize they're wrong. Sometimes, discussing certain things with your parents are uncomfortable. There's no deeper meaning. No philosophical awakening. No profound moment of realization.
It's just, it is what it is.
Keep telling yourself that.
I stop walking, stopping directly in front of Alec's driveway. I look up at the deep blue afternoon sky, squinting my eyes as the sun shines brightly.
"Once again, I've got this," I say to myself. Sand crunches under my shoes as I walk up his concrete driveway with small oil stains and tiny stones.
A light wind rustles the leaves high in the large trees casting the driveway in shade. Near the creek, a couple feet away from the small dock leading into the creek, a weeping willow's delicate weeping branches sway in the breeze, grazing the grass below with its fluttering silver-tinged leaves.
The water glistens, like a thousand tiny diamonds, under the sun.
A lawnmower rumbling and sputtering out back echoes in the otherwise silent yard. Birds soar into the sky from the ground, flapping their wings as they escape the obnoxious sound.
I follow the sound, admiring the mass of succulents I planted months before my departure.
Alec and I spent weeks fixing up the dried garden beds along the hedge, separating our property from our neighbors.
I can't believe how they've grown and multiplied.
The sound stops as I reach the backyard. I stop dead in my tracks, my mouth drops open, my eyes just about pop from my skull and my vagina claps and flutters. All my previous thoughts vacate the premises and I'm a drooling, dripping mess. Figuratively speaking, of course.
Surrounded by discarded tools is a shirtless Alec as the heavens open, glowing down upon him.
The sun glistens on his body sheen with perspiration as his biceps tense with every movement. The grey sweats hugging his hips, slips lower, revealing defined V-lines. More defined than my mush brain remembers.
He raises his arm, rubbing the back of his hand against his forehead, and my eyes drop to his pronounced abs.
I gulp, unable to tear my eyes off him.
He turns around, reaching for something in the toolbox behind him and I just about melt into the ground at the sight of his smooth, ripped back.
My ovaries drop to the ground, making their way towards him. Desperate for a taste – the fuck is wrong with you?
He turns around, his gaze connecting with mine. A smirk slowly spreads across his lips, and I feel heat traveling up my neck, settling on my face.
It's enough to – somewhat – snap me back to reality, making way for the guilt to settle. Oh Justin, I'm so fucking sorry.
"Enjoying the show, darlin?" Alec asks with a panty dropper wink.
Forgive me, Father. For I'm about to sin.
A/N: Do you think Telana's mom is right? If you can't talk to your mom about a huge step you're taking, like divorcing your husband, is it really the right thing to do? But I guess it's a bit hard to answer since the reasoning for their split isn't very clear yet. We'll round back to this question once it's revealed lol.
Also, do you think our girl is in trouble? Emotionally, sexually, mentally? Lol with that ending... Anything is possible...
Thoughts? Hopes? Dreams? Wishes?
Don't forget to hit that precious⭐
Thanks for commenting, reading, and voting🥰 I appreciate it tons.
Here's an example of the tattoo I have in mind that Telana has.
What do you think?
Till the next chapter.