Chapter 36 Me In Your World #2
“If this is her liking me, I’d hate to see what happens if she doesn’t,” he muttered back, but there was a warmth in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
Soleh was blissfully focused on his plate, Cahya was quietly observing the tension like a smug spectator, and I was doing my best to fill the silences with cheerful chatter.
“So, Cahya, how is your final year?” Pat questioned, and Cahya nearly choked on air.
“Definitely the most demanding. I’ve been working on a self-composed piece.” He explained.
“Tell me about it?” she asked. “You never tell me about your compositions anymore.”
“You never really ask, you’re not there,” he clarified and then a silence fell over the table. “But, if you must know, it’s inspired by the works of Bach.”
“Oh my bad, I’m here working so that you can live the life that you do.
Sincerest apologies,” my mother responded coolly; she didn’t let Cahya’s words dent her.
She knew her purpose as a parent was first to work to provide and then to offer emotional support.
She obviously took the first as a priority over the other.
“And you, my sweet Soleh, how’s school?” she asked.
“Terrible. I’m failing chem, but it’s whatever. I won’t use it in the future anyways.” Soleh shrugged.
“I thought you always said you wanted to be a doctor, what happened?” Pat wondered,
“ I haven’t wanted to be a doctor since I was like twelve, Mummy. I’m working towards becoming a video game developer. Computer science has always been my strength,” he explained, and I admired him for standing his ground.
“Oh.” She nodded. “Well, I’ve heard that that’s certainly a lucrative path these days.”
“Yeah but it’s also fun. I want to have fun with my job. I’m constantly surrounded by people whose passion is the bane of their existence. I don’t want that for myself,” Soleh emphasized,
I was proud of him; as I listened to him speak, I realize that he was no longer the little kid who needed me to order him pizza on the telephone. That he had grown, whether or not anyone around him had acknowledged it or not, he had grown.
Mom, as usual, was a tougher crowd. Her sharp gaze rested on Wyn across the table, her expression unreadable but distinctly appraising.
“So,” she began after a lull in conversation, setting her spoon down with deliberate precision. “Wynter. You’re quite…delicate, aren’t you?”
I froze, nearly dropping my fork. “Mummy!” I hissed, glaring at her.
Wyn, to his credit, didn’t even blink. “Delicate?” he repeated, tilting his head slightly, his tone neutral.
“Yes,” she continued, her voice calm but pointed. “You’re polished, poised. It’s unusual in young men these days. I assume it’s from your background in figure skating?”
I opened my mouth to intervene, but Wyn shot me a brief glance—a subtle shake of his head telling me he could handle it.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied smoothly. “Figure skating emphasizes grace and precision, but it also requires strength and resilience. The best skaters have to balance both.”
Mom raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but not yet won over. “Strength and resilience,” she echoed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Not words I’d immediately associate with a sport that focuses on…performances.”
Wyn leaned forward slightly, his voice steady and calm.
“That’s a common misconception,” he said.
“But skating isn’t just about artistry. It’s about pushing through injuries, training for hours every day, and competing at the highest levels against the best in the world.
I assure you, ma’am, it’s as much about endurance as it is about grace. ”
Mom’s expression flickered, the faintest trace of approval breaking through her otherwise stoic demeanor.
“Hmm,” she murmured, glancing at me. “Well, I suppose it’s good that you’re balanced.
Yesoh has always been…” She paused, her gaze softening slightly.
“Energetic. You’ll need that strength to keep up with her. ”
I felt my face heat up as Soleh snorted into his glass of water. “Mummy!”
Wyn smiled faintly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I think I can manage,” he said, his voice warm but confident. “I always have.”
Later, after dinner, as we helped clean up, Mom handed Wyn a stack of dishes. She watched him for a moment before speaking. “You know, Wynter, I don’t mean to offend with my comments. It’s just…you remind me of someone.”
“Someone from your past?” Wyn asked, his voice gentle as he placed the plates on the counter.
She hesitated, her expression softening. “Yes. My younger brother. He was…refined, like you. Always stood out, but never let anyone make him feel small for it.”
Wyn smiled, a genuine warmth in his expression. “He sounds like someone worth admiring.”
Mum nodded slowly, then glanced at me, her voice quieter now. “I can see why she likes you, you embody everything she’s ever aspired for since she was a little girl: balance, grace, enough confidence that it doesn’t come off as pride. It’s fascinating honestly.”
My heart swelled at the rare approval, and I bit back a smile as I busied myself with drying the plates.
“Thank you,” Wyn said simply, meeting her gaze with a quiet confidence that seemed to finally win her over.
By the time we left the kitchen, I felt lighter than I had in days. As Wyn slipped his hand into mine, I gave him a teasing grin. “Delicate, huh?”
“Graceful,” he corrected, smirking. “There’s a difference.”
“Of course,” I teased, leaning into his side. “And you handled that perfectly, by the way.”
He glanced down at me, his voice soft. “She’s your mother. She matters. And I want her to know I’m serious about you.”
I squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth I couldn’t quite put into words. He wasn’t just serious—he was everything I’d ever dreamed of, and I often felt as though I didn’t deserve him..
The evening had been quiet, the warm glow of the kitchen lights soft as my mom finished clearing up after dinner.
I had been pretending to help, but honestly, I couldn’t focus.
My thoughts kept drifting to Wyn, who had just been so very kind and thoughtful tonight—so calm, respectful, and even patient with my mother’s tough questions.
Once we were done, I headed to my room, but before I could shut the door, my mom’s voice called from the bottom of the stairs.
“Yesoh,” she said, her tone measured, “I need to talk to you.”
I sighed. It wasn’t often Mom pulled me aside for these kinds of talks, but I knew it wouldn’t be anything casual. I turned back to face her, giving her a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, sure, Mummy. What’s up?”
She motioned for me to sit, and I complied, sitting on the edge of the seat at the dining table while she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Her expression was calm but stern, her eyes locking with mine.
“You know I’ve always had high expectations for you,” she began, her voice low, almost distant. “Especially when it comes to your future.”
I nodded, my stomach twisting. I knew where this was going.
“I’ve seen how you’ve worked, Yesoh,” she continued, walking toward me. “How determined you’ve been to carve out a path of your own. That’s something I admire about you. But don’t let any distractions pull you away from that.”
“Distractions?” I echoed, already feeling a cold knot settle in my stomach.
Mom’s eyes softened slightly, but there was a firmness to her words.
“Yes, distractions. You’re young, Yesoh.
You’re in a vulnerable time in your life, a time where emotions can cloud your judgment.
And this boy,” she hesitated slightly, but only for a moment, “Wynter… He’s sweet, but you need to keep your head on straight. ”
Unfortunately for her my head had actually never been on straight at all.
I swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on me. “Actually, Mummy, I—”
“No,” she cut me off gently, but with an unmistakable sharpness.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t have feelings, or that you shouldn’t date him.
But you need to promise me something, Yesoh.
” She moved to sit beside me, her gaze intense.
“If you ever feel like he’s distracting you from your purpose, from the career you’ve worked so hard for, I want you to promise me you’ll walk away.
No hesitation. No second thoughts. You’ll drop the weight. ”
I stared at her, feeling a mix of frustration and confusion. “What do you mean, distracting me? You really think that’s what this is?”
Mom’s expression softened, but only just. “Yesoh, I’ve seen so many young black women get swept up in relationships at the peaks of their careers with men who only want to leech their success, only to lose themselves along the way.
And as much as I want you to have happiness, I need you to understand that this isn’t just about feelings.
You’ve got a career to focus on—don’t let anything get in the way of that.
I won’t allow you to become a trophy wife or a distraction to anyone’s life.
Your future is yours to shape, and nothing else should take precedence. ”
Her words hit harder than I expected. I knew my mother cared, deeply so, but the way she said it—the way she warned me—felt like a weight pressing down on my chest. My mind immediately went to Wyn, to the way he made me feel like I was capable of anything, the way he always supported me.
But my mom’s warnings had weight too. She was right about one thing: I couldn’t afford to lose myself in someone else’s life, especially when I had my own future to fight for.
“I promise, Mummy,” I said quietly, but I wasn’t sure if I meant it yet. The way she looked at me softened, but there was still a flicker of concern in her eyes.
“I’m just looking out for you, Yesoh. You should always come first. Don’t forget that.”
I nodded, unsure of how I felt, but understanding the importance of her words. She kissed the top of my head gently, then stood up to leave the room.
As she closed the door behind her, I sat there in the quiet, reflecting on everything she said. I didn’t want to let anything—or anyone—derail my dreams. But the thought of walking away from Wyn, even if it was just a promise to myself, felt heavier than I expected.