"Aight. And Yah-Yah? Don't let her make you feel bad about your happiness. You earned this shit. You deserve Sosa. Fuck what she think."
"Thanks, Sis. Love you."
"Love you too, boo."
I hung up just as Sosa knocked and opened the door. He looked stressed, his jaw tight, and I knew he probably heard some of what went down.
"My mama left," he said, closing the door behind him.
"Good." I sat up, not even trying to hide how I felt. "No offense."
"None taken." He walked over and sat next to me, his hand going to my thigh.
"What she say to you?"
"What she always say." I looked at him, feeling all that frustration bubble back up. "That I'm using you. That you could have any bitch in Chicago. That I'm just convenient. That whenyour love for me fade, I'ma be out on my ass. Oh, and she called me 'not real family'."
Sosa's jaw clenched tighter. "She said that?"
"Word for word. Well, not exactly but that's what she meant." I felt tears threatening again. "Baby, I know that’s your mother, but I can't stand her. I'm sorry.”
He was quiet for a long moment, his hand squeezing my thigh. Then he turned to face me fully.
"My mama come from a hard place," he said slowly. "She been through a lot. Seen a lot. And that made her... bitter. Especially when it come to relationships. She don't trust nobody, don't think love real, think every woman out to use a nigga."
"But I'm not—"
"I know you not. I know that, baby." He cupped my face with both hands. "But she can't see it. She too stuck in her own pain to see what's real right in front of her."
"So what, I just gotta deal with her talking to me crazy forever?"
"Nah." His voice got firm. "I'ma talk to her. Let her know she need to respect you or she can't come to my crib."
"Sosa, I don't wanna come between you and your mama—"
"You not. She doing that herself." He pulled me closer. "Listen to me, Yah-Yah. You the most important person in my life.. And I ain't about to let her, or anybody else for that matter disrespect you.”
"She said Thanksgiving at her house this year," I said quietly.
"We ain't gotta go if you don't want to. We can do our own thing."
"Nah, we should go. She your mama. Zurie your sister. That's your family." I wiped my eyes. "I just... I need her to respect me, Sosa. That's all I'm asking for."
"And she will. I'ma make sure of it." He kissed me soft and slow, wiping my tears with his thumbs. "I love you so much, Yah. Don't let her make you doubt that."
"I love you too, baby." I whispered against his lips.
"Come on. I brought food from the restaurant. Let's eat and forget about all this bullshit for now."
"Okay," I said, letting him pull me up.
* * *
The next morning, I felt Sosa's hand grip my throat, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make my eyes snap open. His face was right there, inches from mine, his dark eyes looking at me like I was something he owned.
"Get up," he said, his voice low and rough. "We going out."
"Sosa, I'm still tired—"
