“Wait, you’re pregnant. You can’t eat sushi. Why did you pick here?”
“Because I can eat the Kani salad and Blue Ocean roll. They are cooked.”
“Okay. Well don’t be mad when I get the yellowtail sashimi.”
“I won’t.”
Our server finally comes to the table and we order drinks and food. We spend the next two hours talking about everythingwhile enjoying sushi. Before we leave, she places a to-go order for Chad and I text Xai.
Me: I’m about to leave Sushi House. I can bring something for you and the girls.
Xai: Sushi? Can you eat that?
Me: Yes. Everything I at
e was cooked. Do you want anything?
His response is vague as hell. He’s really keeping their date a mystery.
Xai: No, we good.
Me: Are y’all at a restaurant?
Xai: See you at the house in an hour.
Me: You’re mean but I love you Have fun!
Xai: I love you too.
“Does he want anything?” Kandi asks when I look up from my phone.
“No. They’re fine. I don’t know where they are but they’re fine.”
“That is the sweetest. Let them enjoy their date so they’ll know how a man is supposed to treat them,” she says. “I ordered Chad’s steak bento box already. Imma run to the restroom. I’ll be right back.”
When Kandi walks off, my cell vibrates. Thinking it’s Xai again, I flip it over. It’s Detective Nichols. The day after I was released from the hospital, I called the police. Calling and texting me is one thing, but coming to my damn house and putting theirhands on me is another. Doing that shit in front of my girls was diabolical. They deserve another ass whooping for that alone but I’ll settle for jail.
“Good afternoon, Detective Nichols,” I answer.
“Miss Mitchell,” he greets. “Do you have a moment to talk?”
“Yes, I’m good.”
“Well, I just wanted to update you on the case. With your doorbell camera video and statement, we charged both with battery, more specifically, aggravated battery because of your pregnancy.”
“Good. Are the video and my statement enough? Like I said, Detective, I don’t want my daughters involved in any way. No statements and definitely no testifying in court,” I say adamantly, repeating exactly what I’ve said since the beginning.
“There isn’t going to be a trial. After they were informed that the battery charge was elevated to aggravated due to a vulnerable factor, they chose a plea instead of risking up to fifteen years,” he says and I can’t fight my smile.
They’re going to jail!
“What was the plea?”
“Three years and a five-thousand-dollar fine.”
“Good luck with getting that money,” I reply with a smirk.
“Oh, the system will get it one way or another.”
