Chapter 12 #2
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up when I realized it was her bitch ass ex. I quickly turned into the closest parking spot, grabbed my gun from the glove compartment, and jumped out of my truck.
I didn’t even have to point the gun at Harlan because as soon as he saw it hanging at my side, he put his hands up and backed away from Khiya.
He didn’t want no smoke and would probably piss his pants if I pointed it at him.
Yet, I still didn’t want to give him my back in case he was feeling froggy, so I stood between them and looked him in the eyes.
“I guess this nigga is a stalker now. He was here when I came home and is trying to force me to talk to him,” Khiya spat.
I didn’t even have to ask what was going on because my baby knew what type of time I was on.
“Go inside, baby. I’ll be up in a minute.”
“She won’t talk to me because she’s afraid she still has feelings for me,” Harlan said.
“Fuck you. You’re delusional. Weak ass nigga,” Khiya snapped as she walked past him.
This whole situation was odd as fuck. The nigga hadn’t reached out to her in damn near three years, and now suddenly, he was desperate to speak to her. The shit wasn’t adding up.
“Aye, man. Tell me what’s good. I know all about your history with Khiya, and you popping up at her place after three years makes no fucking sense.”
“I want her back.”
“That won’t happen, but I’m curious. Did you just come to that revelation when you saw her last week?”
“No. I knew breaking up with her was a mistake the moment I did it, but I never planned for it to be permanent. Had she stuck around long enough for me to explain, I would’ve told her that I’d gotten transferred to Europe to work on a project at my job.”
“If you really wanted her to know, you wouldn’t have let her leave without hearing you out. What happened was, you thought you could put her on the shelf and come back and get her when you were ready.”
“I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to circle back. My sister running into her was no coincidence, and neither was seeing her on the plane. Those were clear signs.”
This nigga!
“Signs for you to move the fuck on because Khiya sure the fuck has. You had three years to rectify that shit, and you missed your chance. She’s mine, and ain’t shit I’m not willing to do to make sure that doesn’t change.
Take your bitch ass on, and please don’t let me see your ass around my woman again. It won’t end well.”
I tapped the gun against my leg, and his lips began to tremble. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, and I couldn’t even laugh or be mad at him, because if I’d lost a woman like Khiya, I’d cry, too.
“I’ll bow out gracefully, but if you ever—” he began.
“I won’t.”
He released a deep sigh before turning and going to his car. I tucked my gun in the waistband of my pants as I watched him drive away. If someone had told me what had just transpired, I wouldn’t have believed them.
“Harlan is harmless,” Mrs. Reid said through her laughter. “You probably scared that man to death.”
Dinner was going well, not that I expected anything less. The ladies cooed over the bouquets I’d gotten for them, and the men appreciated the cigars. Blaine and I hadn’t seen each other in a few years, but it was just like old times as soon as we dapped it up.
Mr. Reid interrogated me like I was on trial, something I think all good fathers should do to a man pursuing their daughter, so it didn’t bother me at all.
He asked me questions about my upbringing, my beliefs, and my goals.
When he threw his arm over my shoulders and walked me into his den to show me his collection of cigars, I knew I’d passed with flying colors.
Mrs. Reid was much more easygoing. She watched me as I interacted with Khiya, and whatever she saw, she must have loved, because she made me call my mother, and they talked like old friends for almost thirty minutes.
“It’s always the unassuming ones that snap and do something crazy. I didn’t appreciate him popping up at Khiya’s house uninvited and trying to force her to talk to him. He almost made me bring out parts of me I retired a long time ago,” I said.
Khiya had shared with them that Harlan had shown up at her place, demanding they talk. Of course, I had to let them know how I handled it.
“Sylas did the right thing. Men these days don’t take rejection well. I just hope he crawls back into the hole he’s been in for the past three years,” Mena added.
“As long as Khiya is with me, you’ll never have to worry about her safety,” I assured them.
“That’s good to know,” Mr. Reid said.
“Tell us, Sylas, how did you become interested in flying?” Yandy asked.
For the next fifteen minutes, I shared my journey to becoming a pilot with them. They asked questions that I’d probably answered a hundred times before, but I enjoyed talking about my passion.
“Flying a plane makes me feel things I can’t even describe. Of course, there are the obvious things like the adrenaline rush and knowing you’re controlling such a massive piece of equipment, but it’s so much more than that.”
“I couldn’t even imagine,” Blaine said.
“My bad. I didn’t mean to go off on a tangent,” I apologized.
“Don’t apologize. We asked, and you answered. We’ve never had a pilot at our dinner table. It’s exciting,” Mrs. Reid said.
Khiya had been quietly observing how I interacted with the people she loved most, smiling so hard her cheeks should have been tired.
“Okay. It’s getting late. Mena has to get back to the city, and Blaine and Yandy have to work tomorrow. Who’s helping me pack up this food?” Mrs. Reid asked.
Khiya, Mena, and Yandy offered to help, and I thought now was the perfect time to talk to her parents privately.
“Mr. and Mrs. Reid, can I speak to you privately for a moment?” I asked.
“Of course, son, and you don’t have to be so formal. You can at least call us Karim and Breanne,” Mr. Reid offered.
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”
I followed the couple into the den, and Mr. Reid closed the doors.
“Thank you for agreeing to speak to me privately. I won’t beat around the bush. I wasn’t sure I knew what love was until I met your daughter. Being with Khiya is the only thing that makes me feel better than flying. I’m in love with her, and I’m asking for your blessing to marry her.”
Mr. Reid folded his arms across his chest and looked at his wife.
“What do you think, dear? You think Sylas is worthy of our daughter’s hand in marriage?” he asked, firmly.
I looked between the two of them nervously, wondering if I’d misread them all evening.
“I don’t know, baby. He’s handsome, accomplished, intelligent, comes from a good home, and the love he has for our baby girl is oozing out of his pores. You think we can trust him to treat our Khiya like the precious gem that she is?”
The seconds ticked by slowly, and I began to sweat as I waited for them to tell me if I was worthy of their daughter.
“Sir. Ma’am. I promise—”
“We’re just messing with you, son. You have our blessing,” Mr. Reid finally said, putting me out of my misery.
I released the breath I’d been holding as they pulled me into an embrace.
“Thank you. I promise to always love, honor, respect, and protect your daughter.”
“We believe you, Sylas,” Mrs. Reid said.
“I’m planning to propose soon. I’ll keep your family in the loop because I want you all to be present, including my family as well. Here’s what I have planned so far.”