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’veseenhow 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 youeverfeel 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 isyoursto 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 mindimmediately 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 mesoftened, 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.
37
I Could Never Give You Peace
When I stepped back into my childhood bedroom, I felt like I stepped through a time portal. The night was thick with the kind of stillness and frozen nostalgia that only existed within our childhood homes. I can hear the crickets chirping outside their endless melody rhythm that I’d grown up here in, but had almost forgotten the rushing cars and honking in New York City.
My room felt impossibly small now. The single bed tucked in the corner looked like it belonged to someone else—a younger, burdenless version of me. I had no idea how I was supposed to share this space with someone like Wynter who took up so muchspace. Perhaps not physically, no, but his presence radiated volumes.
He and I stood by the bed, awkwardly assessing the logistics. He was so tall and broad, he looked comically out of place in my cozy room, surrounded by my faded Barbie posters, stacks of books, and the faint scent of sea salt that clung to everything here. Wynter was practical, always looking for the most logical solution, and it was clear that sharing this tiny bed wasn’t one of them.
“You will take the ?bed,” he declared as if to argue against it were the ultimate absurdity gesturing towards it as he grabbed the spare pillow. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms, “Wynter, you’re not sleeping on the floor, that’s ridiculous.”?
