For a split second, I was eight years old again—sitting at a table while strangers in suits talked about leases and deadlines and leaving.
Mama V squeezed my hands.
“Baby,” she said gently, “don’t you worry yourself sick.The lady said I got a month.Plenty of time to figure something out.”
Then she smiled—bright, unapologetic.
“As a matter of fact, my man Darrell already talkin’ about me movin’ in with him.That one don’t waste time.”She laughed, loud and full, like nothing in the world could touch her.“Trust me, I’m fine.You know Mama V always lands on her feet.”
I sighed.“I know, but—”
Jaxon’s phone rang, cutting through the kitchen like a sudden crack of thunder.He glanced down at the screen, then at me.
"Be right back,” he said quietly.
Then he slipped out toward the hallway, leaving the room to the women—and somehow, that felt more intimidating than being caught half-dressed.
Nerissa hopped up onto one of the stools, her feet dangling in the air.
“So,” she said brightly, “Mama V here was boasting about her future powerhouse attorney.Scholarship baby, huh?”
Mama V smiled at her like she’d already decided Nerissa was family.“Oh, that's my baby.She's always had a strong head on her shoulders; head buried in books since she could even walk.”
I laughed softly and leaned against the counter.“I mean, I'm not an attorney yet.I still have to finish the year and pass the bar.A few more hurdles and then—hopefully—everything changes.”
“I’m proud of you.”Mama V reached over and squeezed my arm.“So proud.And I know your daddy would’ve been, too.”
That did it.
Something in my chest softened, loosened, like a knot I’d been carrying without realizing it.My father’s face flickered through my mind—his quiet encouragement, the way he used to sit with me at the table while I studied, pretending to read the same page for an hour just so I wouldn’t feel alone.
I smiled at her, blinking quickly.“Thanks, Grandma.”
She held my gaze for a beat, then nodded, satisfied.
“Which brings me to another thing,” she added casually.“Your mama will be at the dinner tonight.”
I froze.“What?”
Mama V rolled her eyes.“Mm-hmm.That child stays lookin’ to stir somethin’ up.”
“She’s coming?”My voice came out tighter than I meant it to.“Why?”
“She called this morning and babbled on about not receiving an invite to the biggest party in the city.Said she’s flying in for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding.”
My stomach sank—heavy, hollow, like I’d swallowed a stone I hadn’t seen coming.
Of course she was.
I stared down at the counter, at a faint crack in the laminate I’d traced a hundred times before, while memories rose anyway, uninvited and relentless.My mother had always been like that—arriving without warning, taking up space, leaving messes I had to clean up long after she was gone.
Her love was conditional, rationed.Given when I impressed her, withdrawn when I disappointed her.Approval was a moving target, always just beyond reach, and I’d learned early that if I wanted her attention, I had to perform for it.Smile correctly.Succeed loudly.Make her look good.
Even then, it never lasted.Five minutes, maybe.Then something shinier would catch her eye—someone richer, better connected, more impressive to stand beside.
She loved wealth, status, and appearances—loved them more than most bitter necessities like family and humility.
That was why, when I was with Chase, things had been… easier.He fit her vision—and even better, her portfolio—of what she wanted in life.She’d bragged about him to strangers—about being a part of the Sinclair dynasty.She posted pictures like trophies and spoke about us with a pride I’d always hoped would grow into motherly love and care.
