Chapter 8 #2
I smiled at that because it reminded me how long our sisterhood had been intact.
There wasn’t a version of my adult life that didn’t include these two women.
We had grown into our marriages together.
We had raised our boys at the same time.
We had shared heartbreaks, vacations, secrets, and closets full of dresses the world had never seen.
Tonight should have felt light, easy and familiar. Yet all it took was a moment of stillness for my thoughts to drift back to Kay’Lo, and the ache found its way into my heart again.
Abeni saw it the moment my smile softened.
She touched my knee with her fingertips, the way she always did when she knew my thoughts were slipping into darker places.
Sometimes she squeezed my hand. Sometimes she refilled my glass without saying anything.
Tonight she simply looked at me with those calm eyes that always reminded me not to fall apart.
“So, where have you been all day?” Abeni asked Nyori.
Nyori settled deeper into her seat, letting her shoulders loosen as if she had been waiting to relax all afternoon.
“I went to that women’s wellness luncheon downtown.
The one hosted by Marlene DuBois and her sister.
They had all these speakers talking about balance and intention and soft living, which was wonderful, but the moment the event ended, every single woman at that table wanted to go have drinks. ”
Abeni lifted a brow. “And you managed to escape?”
“You damn right.”
Abeni’s eyes warmed. “As you should. They don’t know you the way we do.”
Nyori tapped her glass lightly. “Exactly. If I’m going to misbehave, it will only ever be with the two of you.”
I laughed before I even realized it, and the sound eased something inside me. That was always Nyori’s magic. She made everything feel lighter without pretending life wasn’t heavy.
She lifted the bottle between us and topped off her glass before turning the label toward Abeni. “You chose well.”
Before we could get too far into our laughter, the door to the patio opened again, and the energy shifted in that smooth, familiar way that always followed Mensah men.
Pressure stepped in first, wearing a simple shirt and sweats that still managed to look intentional on him. Renza followed behind him with that same serious face he gave the world, even though he was the family’s comic relief.
“Evenin’, Aunties,” Renza said as he leaned down and kissed Abeni’s cheek, then mine, then his mother’s. Pressure did the same, though he pulled me in an extra second.
“Where are you two going?” Abeni asked, even though she already knew neither one of them intended to give a real answer.
Pressure smirked. “We just makin’ a run. Nothin’ crazy.”
As Renza turned, Nyori reached out and gently took his wrist. “Before you disappear, be a darling and leave your mother a little something to unwind.”
Renza stared at her like she had lost her mind. “Ma… no. Y’all do not need weed. Y’all need to be doin’ what women y’all age do.”
Nyori raised her chin, visibly offended but composed. “And what exactly do you believe that entails?”
“Talkin’ about grandbabies, bakin’ somethin’, drinkin’ some tea, readin’ a book. Peace. Calm. All that.”
I laughed so hard I nearly spilled my wine. “Renza, watch your mouth, boy!”
He lifted his hands but kept going, because that’s who he was. “I’m just sayin’. Y’all wives. Y’all mamas. And Auntie Abeni and Auntie Treasure are grandmas now. That should keep y’all busy enough.”
Nyori tilted her head and said in the smoothest voice, “Bless all those precious children, but fuck them kids.”
Abeni covered her mouth as she burst into laughter, and even I leaned back because it was something only Nyori could say with so much grace.
Renza shook his head. “And that right there is exactly why you do not need nothin’ to smoke.”
We were all laughing the kind of laughter that filled the patio with warmth instead of worry.
Renza kissed his mother’s cheek, then nodded toward me and Abeni. Pressure did the same, tapping the back of Renza’s shoulder before the two of them walked out, the patio door closing behind them as if they had never interrupted our night at all.
The room softened again once they were gone.
Wine filled our glasses and memories filled the space between us.
Nyori began telling a story that had happened years ago.
Abeni laughed so hard she leaned into the pillow beside her, and I found myself laughing too, even though I could still feel the heaviness sitting at the back of my mind.
Every time I drifted, Abeni touched my arm.
Every time I went quiet, Nyori changed the subject with a joke that kept us all afloat.
But when my phone vibrated again, the laughter dimmed in my chest.
My husband had been calling all evening, and I still had not answered. The truth sat heavy on my mind. I loved him more than life itself, but I needed distance. I needed quiet, and I needed a moment to breathe without feeling like he was telling me how.
The phone rang again…
I pressed my lips together and stared at the screen until it went dark.
Nyori noticed before Abeni did this time. “Is everything alright?” she asked gently, her tone still warm but carrying the weight of real concern.
I sighed and set the phone face down. “Kwame keeps calling, and I don’t want to talk to him right now. I don’t even want to see his face.”
Nyori blinked slowly, lifted her brows, then pointed toward the glass wall behind me. “Well, my love… you may not want to see his face, but he certainly wants to see yours.”
Confused, I turned.
Kwame stood outside the patio, watching me with the kind of intensity that always came right before he made a decision for both of us. His suit jacket was open, his tie loosened, and his eyes fixed on me like I had been gone for far longer than a few hours.
Before I could gather my thoughts or sit up properly, he opened the patio door and walked straight in. He didn’t greet Abeni or Nyori. He didn’t say a word to either of them because his attention was locked on me and only me.
He reached for my Hermès Birkin, clutching it, then held out his other hand.
“Treasure,” he said simply.
Abeni exchanged a look with Nyori, a quiet, knowing smile forming between them because they had been witnessing Mensah men take charge like this for decades.
Nyori snickered lightly into her glass.
Kwame didn’t say another word. He didn’t need to. He slipped his fingers around my wrist and guided me to my feet, and although I could have resisted, my heart knew better. My husband had come to collect me, and everyone in the room knew I was leaving with him.
Abeni waved a small goodbye, her smile warm and amused. Nyori lifted her glass like she was making a silent toast to marriage, motherhood, and all the beautiful chaos that came with both.
Kwame led me out of the patio and into the night, his hand firm but gentle, as if he already knew I had run as far as I could and it was time for him to pull me close again.
And even though I wasn’t ready to talk, I didn’t pull away, because with everything happening around us, the truth was simple…
I still belonged to him, and he still came for me.