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Raya

The next morning, I make us breakfast. I’m heading out early today to check on Daddy and get ready at the house.

But, first?

I have some business to tend to.

It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since I apologized to Ace, crying and confessing in his arms, and I’m already reneging. But that’s because I, like an idiot, took my eye off the ball and forgot about the last orca.

Good thing I never made any promises.

“Damn. What’s all this?” Ace surveys the spread of pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, croissants, and fresh fruit. “We having company?”

“I wanted to send my man off right,” I say with a smile. “After last night, you deserve it all.”

He approaches me and grabs a handful of my ass, squeezing possessively. “So do you,” he murmurs against my lips just before he kisses me.

I melt into it, but just for a moment. I have work to do.

“Some of everything?” I say, grabbing a plate.

He nods and takes a seat at the breakfast bar.

“I’m so proud of you,” I say as I scoop eggs onto the plate. “The White House. Babe, that’s huge.”

He shrugs. “Yeah. It’s whatever.”

I chuckle. Always playing it cool.

I turn back to the stove, letting the silence settle just long enough before I say it.

“What did your mom say when you told her? I hope she was excited.”

I know the bitch wasn’t as excited as she should be, but I wanna hear him say it. I want it on his mind.

“Uh…she was. She don’t really get excited for much, though.”

Because she’s a miserable cunt.

I add a stack of pancakes to his plate, slowly drizzling maple syrup over them. “I’m sure she’s proud of you. I know she loves you,” I say. “She’d do anything for you.”

Ace cocks his head. “What makes you say that?”

I pile grapes and strawberries on the side, then slide the plate over to him. “Honestly, Ace, she’s very protective of you.”

He bites into a piece of bacon, crunching loudly. “You don’t know that lady.”

I smile, glancing away for a second, as if I’m deciding whether or not to say more. I take a sip of coffee, then set the mug in front of Ace. We’re sharing again, because I like that.

I sigh. “Okay…so, she reached out to me a while back.”

Ace freezes mid chew. “Who did?”

“Your mother.” I exhale again, shaking my head, because I really hate having to say this. “I didn’t wanna bring it up because…I know she loves you. She looks out for you, whether you know it or not.”

He sets his fork down. “What did she say?”

I hesitate just long enough. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Well, you did.” An edge creeps into his voice. “Tell me.”

I bite my lip, then reach for my phone. “I saved the messages because…honestly, I didn’t really know what to do.”

I pull up the text thread, still in disbelief that it looks so real.

I hand him my phone.

I’m not the kind of person who meddles, but I have to be honest with you. You’re not the kind of woman I wanted for my son

Does he know you’re texting me?

No. And let’s keep it that way, shall we?

Ace is a grown man

And I’m still his mother. He doesn’t see what I see. I know women like you. You get your hooks in and don’t let go

You don’t fit in with our family. You never will

You don’t know anything about me

I know you’re a liar. That’s enough.

I’m sure you have some kind of tragic past that makes you the way you are. Frankly, that’s not my problem. I just don’t want my son dragged into your mess

Ace dates women with graduate degrees and careers. Girls from good families. Lawyers. Elected officials. Doctors. Board members.

That’s what he deserves. He deserves much better than you

Please do us all a favor and stay in your own lane

I can feel Ace’s anger building. Heat rolls off him like a hard surface on a hot summer day.

I shift my weight from one hip to the other, giving him a sad, resigned sigh. “I know it looks harsh,” I say, “but I really don’t think she meant me any harm. She’s just…you know. Protective.”

“How the fuck did she even get your number?” he says, his eyes still locked on my screen.

“I don’t know.” I reach over the counter, touching his wrist gently. “Don’t be mad at her.”

He surprises me by snatching his arm away.

I wait, letting my lips part slightly like I’m shocked he’s upset. “Are you okay?”

“Hell, nah.”

“Baby. Look at me.” I lean over, putting myself at eye level with him. “We’re okay. I’m not upset. Okay? It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” he says, pushing his plate away. “I ain’t even hungry anymore.”

Boy, fuck you. It took me almost an hour to cook all this shit. Moody ass.

I still love him, though.

“I’m gonna get on the road,” he announces. “I don’t have time to think about this shit right now.”

“Don’t think about it at all. It’s nothing.”

“If it was nothing, you wouldn’t have showed it to me.”

His nostrils flare, and I’m reminded that he’s a little smarter than I am.

I avert my gaze, busying myself with my own plate.

“You can be honest,” he says. “I thought that’s what we’re doing now.”

“About what?”

“How you feel about this shit.”

“Oh.” I pop a grape in my mouth, pondering the merits of honesty before I remember all this shit is a lie. “I mean, yeah. It hurt my feelings, but it is what it is.”

I can practically see the moment Superman is activated.

“I’ll handle it,” he says.

“Are you sure? I don’t want this to cause problems between y’all.”

He grabs his keys, picks up his bag, and gives me a nod. “If it’s a problem for you, it’s a problem for me.”

Hearing him say that makes up for the fact that I cooked all this food for nothing. I wave goodbye to him and finish my breakfast. I have to get on the road before I’m late to work. I have to stop by the post office on my way.