Chapter 8 What’s Already Written
What’s Already Written
AURA
Iknew something was wrong with my baby the moment she stepped out the car.
Although she moved quickly, her steps were measured, and the color was off on her face too.
She was trying to hide the fact that she was sick, but the way she moved told me that she was pushing through just to show up.
Danae took her position as manager of the diner serious.
It was the reason my sister entrusted so much responsibility to her.
Cutting the engine, I watched as she rushed inside and decided then that she wasn’t working today. I entered the diner a few seconds behind her.
“Wassup, sis?” I spoke to my sister, who was seated behind the counter on her phone.
“Morning. What you doing around here so early? You came with Nae?” She walked from behind the counter and hugged me.
“Yeah. I dropped her off. Had to handle some maintenance on her car.”
She squinted. “She let you take her car to get maintenance done?”
“Nah.” I leaned back against the counter. “I went by her crib this morning to check the car and saw that it needed maintenance.”
Her brows shot up. “That’s a bit intrusive, Aura. Don’t you think?”
“Nah. I don’t. It was a good thing I did stop by. She’s not feeling well.”
Amil snickered. “Bruh, I’ma hold your hand when I say this.
” She grabbed both of my hands and took a deep breath.
“Yo’ ass is crazy, and it’s giving stalker.
I know, scratch that, we all know that you have Danae’s best interest at heart.
Even she knows that. But I think the way you go about it is a bit much. ”
I laughed, taking my hands back and placing them on her shoulders. “What you see as stalking, I see as protection. If I see a need, I meet it before she knows there’s a need to be met.”
She sighed. “Aura, you’re no…”
“Let me finish. Y’all so used to niggas doing the bare minimum that a man stepping in and doing the most is foreign to y’all.
Well, to some women because it shouldn’t be foreign to you or any of the other women in our family.
Daddy catered to Mommy, and he doted on you so much that you shouldn’t accept anything less. ”
“And what did Daddy’s love do for Mommy?” she shot back. “She left us.”
“Daddy’s love held her together for as long as it could. But you and I both know that you can’t outrun your own mind.”
Our mother suffered from depression for years.
She had spurts of happiness, but most times, she was sad and closed off.
Both she and my dad did their best to hide her condition, but I knew.
I asked my dad questions and wouldn’t let up until he told me something that made sense.
When he did, I tried my best to be my best at all times when I was around my mother.
I wanted to be the reason she had good days.
I learned later that it didn’t matter how beautiful her life was on the outside.
She was suffering inside, so much so that she just decided one day that she couldn’t do life at all anymore.
Amil crossed her arms and shook her head. “I hear all that you’re saying, but in this case, you’re not just stepping in. You’re taking over.”
I met her gaze evenly and shrugged. “I’m a boss, Amil. I only know how to take over. But my intentions have always and will always be pure when it comes to Danae. So, encourage me. Don’t try to talk me out of loving her in my love language.”
“And what language is that?”
“Real nigga.”
Danae walked from the back, face flushed, moving like she was trying to hide the fact that she needed to sit the day out. There was no need in pretending though. I took one look at her and knew her workday was over.
She was silent during the drive to my place. Her arm was in the window, while her head rested against it. There was a crease in her forehead like she was in deep thought. I had the music playing lowly to avoid awkward silence.
“You know this is kinda considered kidnapping, right?” She finally spoke.
“Am I taking you from one place to another against your will?”
“Yes,” she answered, and I chuckled.
“You gon’ tell the police that if we get pulled over?”
“No,” she snapped. “Why would I do some shit like that?”
“Shit, you tell me since you’re being kidnapped.”
She went quiet and remained that way until we pulled into the private garage beneath my building.
Parking her car between my Aston Martin and the Lamborghini, I stepped out.
Before I could make it over to her side to open the door, she had already beat me to it.
I laughed inwardly. This girl was a trip.
“Come on witcho stubborn ass.” I put her key in my pocket and pointed in front of me for her to walk ahead.
PH41 sat at the top of the Ritz-Carlton Residences in White Plains.
My realtor, who also happened to be a Sullivan – my cousin, Myia – had pulled out all the stops when she found the place for me.
Sunlight poured through the floor to ceiling windows as the elevator opened directly into the penthouse.
The panoramic views spread throughout the 10,700 square foot home made for perfect nightcaps.
Although I barely saw much of the place, I spared no expense when it came to quality and tranquility.
Every corner of my place was custom, from wide-plank floors to the sculptured lighting I opted for instead of chandeliers.
Every wall was decorated in some kind of painting or family portrait.
Each portrait represented the Sullivan legacy and my love for family.
My place wasn’t flashy, but you knew luxury when you saw it.
Smoke grey and white with subtle hints of burnt orange was the color scheme throughout the house.
It paired well with the imported marble and stone finishes.
Danae’s walk slowed once she stepped inside. She quietly observed. Her eyes made their way from the living room to the open kitchen and then to me.
“You live here alone?” she questioned, still standing in the foyer.
I kicked my shoes off at the door and walked around her. “I do. For now. Let me take your coat.” She handed it to me, and I hung our coats in the hallway closet. “Take your shoes off and come in the kitchen.”
Surprisingly, she did as I asked and followed behind me. Pulling out one of the barstools that sat at the island, I gestured for her to sit.
“How many bedrooms is in here?”
“Six,” I said, walking into the pantry to grab the assortment of teas. “Six bedrooms, six bathrooms, and two half baths.”
“And you telling me you don’t have a small family somewhere? You ain’t gotta lie to me, Aura.”
I chuckled. “The fact that you think I would is wild. As much as y’all nail niggas to the cross for being honest, the last thing you should think is that.
To answer your question though, no, I don’t have a small family anywhere.
I plan to start one, which is why this place is the perfect size.
” I pushed the tray of assorted teas over to her. “Pick one.”
She picked up the ginger lemon tea and handed it to me. “All this house and you’re barely here.”
“How you know where I’m at, Ma? You keeping tabs on me?”
Her lip curled. “Umm, no. This place barely looks lived in.”
Grabbing a cup from the cabinet, I filled the glass kettle with water and set it on the stove to boil.
Turning back to face her, I leaned against the counter with my arms crossed.
“Well, move in and fuck some shit up then. Hang your wig on the back of the bathroom door. Have your makeup all over the counter. Hang your panties up in the laundry room to dry. Move in and make my house a lived in home.”
She tried to hide her smile, but I caught it, the second one today. I loved when Danae smiled. She was pretty as fuck, and when she flashed her thirty-twos, it reminded me of why I went so hard about her.
“Here’s your tea.” I set the cup in front of her. “You want honey or sugar?”
“I’m gonna drink it like this.”
“Okay.”
I watched as she handled the cup delicately, blowing the hot liquid before taking a sip.
“Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“Watch me.”
“Because I have eyes, Ma.” I snickered.
“You know what I mean, Aura.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. You don’t just watch me. You show up in ways I didn’t ask for. And even when I push you away, you still find a way to fit into my life. You can have any woman you want, yet you…”
“I wait.” I finished her sentence.
“What exactly are you waiting for, Aura?”
“For you to get your mind right,” I replied without hesitating. “I wait for you to heal from whatever it is that’s keeping you from me mentally.”
She paused. Her facial expression said she wasn’t prepared for my response. “And what do you do while you wait?”
I cracked a smile. “I send you flowers to the nail shop. I get your car serviced without you knowing. I threaten niggas that think they have a chance witchu.”
“You try to get my car towed.”
“Yeah. Shit like that.” I liked when my baby caught on.
“And who do you entertain while you wait on me?”
“I don’t entertain, Ma. I do a lil’ fuckin’ here and there, but that’s about it.”
She rolled her eyes hard, setting the cup down in front of her.
“You mad?”
She frowned. “About?”
“Knowing that yo’ nigga out here fuckin’.”
She sipped her tea and sat back on the barstool. “Oh, my nigga ain’t out here fuckin’. My nigga would know not to even play wit’ me like that. So, no, I’m not mad that you out here free dickin’. That ain’t got nothing to do wit’ me.”
“Free dickin’?” I laughed.
“You heard what I said. I guess I don’t understand why you always checkin’ for me when there’s hoes checkin’ for you. Like, give Big Mama a break.”
I walked around the island, invading her space. “And what you gon’ do when I stop checkin’ for you?”
She went silent and stared up at me over the rim of her cup.