Chapter 3
Persia
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I sat down at my mother’s dinner table.
She tried three different weekends to get me over for dinner before I agreed.
I loved my mother because she was my mother, but I couldn’t take her and her antics on a regular basis.
She was annoying and selfish as hell which made being around her torture.
We weren’t close at all. My sister Tina was three years younger than me, and she felt the same way about our mother as I did.
In fact, we made a pact that if one of us agreed to dinner the other had to come.
Having to face our mother alone was something neither of us had the desire to do.
It had been a month since I last saw my mother and two weeks since I last spoke to her.
I knew she’d ask questions about my job, David, and our home life not because she cared, but because she wanted to make sure I wasn’t messing things up.
In her eyes David was a great catch, and she couldn’t understand why I wasn’t at least on baby number two.
Children would mean child support if we ever got divorced.
Everything was about money. God forbid I actually had children out of love.
Maybe as she got older, attempting to trap a man wasn’t as important to her as it had been in her younger years.
I didn’t think she was as obsessed with finding a man and getting married as she was when she was younger.
My mother had even tried her hand with white men.
Nothing seemed to work out for her. After she bowed her head to say grace, Tina and I followed suit.
The moment she said amen, her head lifted, and she looked at me with hiked brows.
“Why didn’t you bring David? I haven’t seen him since New Year’s. You two are good aren’t you?”
“Yes, we are,” I forced a smile as I picked up a spoon to put some potato salad on my plate. “He’s actually out of town on business.”
“Hmm,” my mother’s lips pursed as her gaze poured over me.
She took in my Van Cleef bracelets, rose gold watch, and short manicured nails.
“You are putting most of your money in the bank, right? I don’t care where a man’s money comes from but as long as David dabbles in anything illegal, there is always the chance he could go to prison.
You want to secure your future in case he gets arrested. ”
Before I could get a word out, Tina groaned. “We could be having a conversation about the weather, and you’d turn it into a lesson on gold digging.”
“Says the single one with no gold to dig in sight.”
My jaw slacked as I reached for a piece of cornbread. My mother had always been blunt and borderline rude, so I wasn’t really shocked, but I knew it was taking all of the restraint that Tina possessed not to be disrespectful.
“You could have been married long ago if you didn’t have a thing for criminals and thugs. Don’t you want more out of life? I just said I don’t care where a man’s money comes from, but the delinquents you waste your time with don’t have any money.”
I dropped my head for a bit because I knew it was about to get ugly.
“Ha!” Tina tossed her head back. “Like what? What do you have? You spent your younger years trying to trap any man that had two coins to rub together, and how did that work out for you? You only paid this house off because you were the beneficiary on your father’s life insurance policy.
You probably can’t wait for poor granny to croak, so you can get some more money. ”
My eyes ballooned out of my head. Usually, Tina and I did a pretty good job of ignoring our mother, but Tina clearly wasn’t in the mood.
“There’s always a rebellious one,” my mother responded in a snide tone. “You’re an adult, and you can live how you see fit. Just don’t ever say I didn’t want better for you. If you’re satisfied working two jobs and still only making the bare minimum to survive that’s your business.”
“Is it really necessary to hit below the belt?” I asked as Tina scooted her chair back.
“Yeah, I tried, but I can’t do this. I’ll call you later, sissy.”
Tina stormed out of the kitchen, and I frowned at the smug expression my mother was wearing.
“I don’t understand why you want grandchildren so bad.
What kind of grandmother will you even be?
You’ll probably be telling my daughters to show a little leg on the playground to get the boys to give them candy. ”
“I was never the most affectionate when you and your sister were growing up. I didn’t coddle and baby you, but I’m certainly not the monster you two make me out to be.
When white women or other races period teach their daughters to marry for money and not love no on bats an eye.
Love will have you getting evicted and being cheated on and mistreated by a broke man that can’t even afford to give you a decent life. ”
I was famished and not even my mother and her shenanigans were going to take my appetite away.
I ignored her while I bit into my chicken.
Taking it further, I even hummed a little tune as I placed potato salad onto my fork.
Luckily for me, David wasn’t in a rush to have children.
I wanted kids, but I wasn’t sure I wanted them with him, and that was a huge red flag for me.
The man was my husband. Did I think we were going to eventually get a divorce?
Lowkey, I admired Tina’s rebellion and wished I had been stronger willed when it came to listening to my mother.
She didn’t force me to marry David, but I had let her get in my head.
I let her convince me that it was okay to marry for stability rather than love because most of these men out here didn’t know how to love correctly anyway.
I let my bitter ass mother convince me that the chances of me having a fairytale romance was slim to none.
She never hesitated to tell me and Tina that a man was supposed to love a woman more than she loved him.
The person that loved the least controlled the relationship.
I couldn’t say she was wrong about that, because David definitely acted like I was the prize.
He was always proud to claim me and show me off.
He couldn’t keep his hands off me and sometimes, I would be so horny I could scream, but sex with him wasn’t what I craved.
It was an insufferable way to live, but it was the life I had chosen.
If I had daughters, I’d beg them to marry for love or not at all.
Maybe everyone didn’t find their person, but I would pray that my babies did.
Marrying for money, convenience, and stability was some bullshit.
I continued to ignore her while I ate my food.
While tuning her out, I imagined what it would be like if I had married someone that I was head over heels in love with and extremely attracted to.
Daydreaming about sleeping with a man like Kastian every night had my yoni aching.
I could imagine him whispering in my ear, sucking on my bottom lip…
The temperature in the kitchen was suddenly uncomfortably warm, and I knew I was doing too much.
I was married. Whether David was my soulmate or not, I had married him, and I wasn’t going to cheat on him.
Kastian was fine and rich, but he was more than likely a fuck nigga with an abundance of women.
I would pray harder that men like him never found my daughters.
If I ever had any. Judging a man that I didn’t know and convincing myself that he was bad news was easier than lusting over him.
Not a soul knew about my sudden attraction to Kastian, and no one ever would.
Yet, my thoughts made me feel guilty. Even more so when I thought of how he’d dismissed David at the strip club.
I had secondhand embarrassment and was kind of turned off that another man had played my man in my face.
It seemed as if every other thought that I had consisted of me wondering what life would have been like if I wasn’t married.
I made good money as a real estate broker, and I was confident that I would have been okay without a husband.
David certainly added to my life, I’d never deny that.
But I knew plenty of single women that were homeowners, traveled frequently, and were doing the damn thing.
I could have had a comfortable, stable life without marrying David.
That was water under the bridge, however, because we were married and as long as he continued to treat me well, we would remain married.
The next day, I was finishing up an email when I saw a figure approach my door through my peripheral vision.
I lifted my head and made eye contact. “Come in,” I smiled at the pretty woman.
Instantly, I noted that her eyes were red and puffy.
Standing, I extended my hand toward her.
“I’m Persia. Tesha?” I questioned as she shook my hand.
“Yes.”
“Nice to meet you. Have a seat. Would you like something to drink? I have water, a variety of teas, juice, and soda.”
“No thank you, I’m good. I just had a good cry over a nice strong margarita,” she chuckled.
I didn’t want to pry, but I didn’t want to come off as insensitive either. My profession was real estate broker not therapist. “Are you okay? Buying a house is a very important decision. Maybe you want to wait to proceed when your head is clear?”
Tesha waved my comment off. “Oh no, I’m good.
I just,” she sighed. “Last night, I found out my man is cheating. It’s not the first or the second time, and I promised myself the last time that if I caught him again, I was out.
I’ve been putting all my ducks in a row since the last time he cheated.
I’m buying this house, and nothing is stopping me. ”