Page 51 of Certified Pressure 3 (Certified Pressure #3)

Two weeks felt like two years since me and Pressure spoke but I was determined to remain strong.

Every time my phone lit up with his name, my chest got tight, but I forced myself to ignore it.

I’d read the messages sometimes, then lock my screen like I hadn’t.

I couldn’t do this shit with him no more, especially after seeing those posts Kashmere made with them hugged up like they were really in love.

I knew they were engaged, and I knew what I was walking into when I got involved with him, but knowing didn’t make it hurt less.

It just made it harder to breathe when I thought about it too long.

The mornings had started blending together.

I’d wake up, check on Zurie, make her breakfast, and spend the rest of the day in my thoughts.

I wasn’t sad, just tired. I was tired of loving a man who could make my whole body melt one minute and make me question my worth the next.

Pressure had called, texted and even sent Renza once to “check in,” but I didn’t have anything left to say.

It wasn’t like I had a doctor’s appointment coming up, so there wasn’t any reason for us to talk.

That’s what I kept telling myself, even though a part of me knew it was just an excuse to protect what little peace I had left.

I was lying in bed scrolling through old pictures when I heard the doorbell.

My heart jumped. For a second I froze, staring at the ceiling like maybe if I didn’t move, it would stop ringing, but it didn’t.

It kept going, loud and impatient. I sighed and rolled out of bed, dragging my feet toward the door with my bonnet barely hanging on.

My first thought was that it had to be Pressure, finally deciding to pop up.

When I opened the door, my heart dropped and my words got stuck. It wasn’t Pressure. It was his mama.

“Omà?” I said, my voice small without meaning to sound that way.

Abeni stood there with her sunglasses low on her nose, holding two designer shopping bags and a tote. She looked like she’d just stepped off a private jet. Her presence alone made the air in the house feel different, heavier but comforting at the same time.

“Let me in, Pluto,” she said calmly, not asking but telling me.

I moved to the side fast, watching her glide into my living room like she owned it. She didn’t have to raise her voice. Just being her was enough to make me straighten up. I shut the door and turned to see her walking around slowly, looking at everything like she was studying it.

Pressure must’ve told her everything. That was the only thing that made sense. He’d gone and told his mama I wasn’t talking to him. Typical…

I trailed behind her quietly, trying not to look nervous while she glanced at the pictures on my walls and the small stack of folded clothes I’d left on the couch.

“So, this is the place my son picked out?” she asked finally, turning toward me.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said quickly.

She gave a small nod, not saying anything else before walking straight into the kitchen. I followed, feeling like a kid who was about to get in trouble. She set the bags down on the counter and started pulling things out like she was stocking a pantry.

There was everything from fresh fruits to organic juices to jars of herbs I couldn’t even name. I watched her pull out fresh ginger, lemon, kale, sweet potatoes, and a few containers that looked like she’d had them prepared somewhere expensive.

“I brought you a few things,” she said without looking up. “You’re carrying my grandchild, and I don’t want you feeding my bloodline junk food.”

I smiled because it was the most Abeni thing she could’ve said. “Yes, ma’am,” I mumbled again.

She opened one of the containers, pulled out a few cloves of garlic, and started washing them in the sink like she’d been in my kitchen a thousand times. The smell of fresh herbs started filling the room as she worked.

“You haven’t been eating right, have you?” she said.

I hesitated. “I’ve been eating.”

“Mm-hmm,” she said like she didn’t believe me. “We’ll fix that.”

She started chopping vegetables while I leaned against the counter, just watching. Her hands moved like she’d done this her whole life.

“I don’t want to get into your business too much,” she said after a while, “but whatever you and my son got going on, you two need to stop the foolishness. All this ignoring each other, and going back and forth is ridiculous. You’re carrying his child, Pluto. That means you’re family now.”

I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes down. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I know Pressure,” she continued, sliding everything into a pot. “He gets that stubborn streak from his father, but he means well. He just doesn’t know how to show it when his pride gets involved.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to say much. She was right, and we both knew it.

A few minutes later, I heard small footsteps coming from the hallway. Zurie peeked around the corner in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes.

“Good morning, little girl,” Abeni said warmly, smiling.

“Good morning, Omà,” Zurie said softly.

Abeni’s eyebrows raised, clearly surprised she remembered the title. “You remember my name,” she said, her tone softer now.

Zurie smiled shyly and climbed into one of the barstools. I went to fix her some cereal while Abeni stirred the pot on the stove. The sound of the spoon hitting the pot and the smell of fresh soup made the kitchen feel like home.

“So,” Abeni said after a moment, glancing toward Zurie, “Pressure said you adopted her.”

I nodded, pouring milk into the bowl. “She’s my little sister.

My mom and dad got their own issues, and Zurie’s been with me most of the time.

She was sick, but she’s strong. She’s got this thing called Chiari Malformation.

It’s when part of her brain pushes into her spinal area, and it messes with her balance and gives her bad headaches sometimes. ”

Abeni paused, her face softening. “That sounds hard.”

“It is,” I said quietly, handing Zurie her bowl. “But she’s getting through it.”

Abeni didn’t say anything for a second. She just nodded, then went to the blender.

She dropped in some spinach, banana, a handful of berries, and poured something from a glass bottle that looked expensive.

The blender roared to life, and when she poured the drink into a tall glass, she slid it across the counter toward me.

“Here,” she said. “It’s got iron, folate, and a few other things that’ll help with your energy. Drink all of it.”

I took it and smiled. “Thank you.”

She wiped her hands on a towel and leaned back against the counter, watching me like she was sizing up more than my appetite. “You and Zurie are part of this family now,” she said. “That means I’m going to make sure you’re good, whether you like it or not.”

I didn’t know what to say. My chest felt tight, not in a bad way but like my heart didn’t know how to react to kindness like that.

“Yes, ma’am,” I whispered finally.

For a while, we sat in silence. She finished stirring the soup and brought me a bowl. I took small sips, and it tasted like something that could heal anything. It was the type of soup you could feel in your bones.

After a while, I looked up at her. “Can I ask you something?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“How am I supposed to handle all this? The baby, Pressure, and the fact that he’s engaged to somebody else?”

Abeni sighed and took a seat across from me. She looked at me with those calm, knowing eyes that made it hard to lie or hide behind pride.

“You need to get your man,” she said simply.

I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You heard me. You need to get your man. Pressure has always been hardheaded. He’s my only child, and as much as he drives me crazy sometimes, I love him more than life itself.

I can’t force him not to marry Kashmere, even though me and his father pushed him into that arrangement.

But you…” she said, pointing at me gently, “you’re carrying his future.

You’re carrying the one thing that’ll change everything. ”

I looked down, playing with the edge of my bowl.

“I’m not telling you to physically fight another woman,” she said, her tone firm but warm.

“I’m telling you to know your place and protect it.

You have my son’s heart, Pluto. Don’t let somebody else walk off with what belongs to you just because you’re scared or hurt.

Love is messy, and it’s real, but sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps us from losing ourselves completely. ”

Her words hit harder than I expected. I didn’t respond right away because I didn’t know how. I just sat there, thinking about everything she said.

Abeni got up and started cleaning, humming softly while she moved around the kitchen. When she was done, she turned back to me and Zurie with a smile. “I should be going now. I just wanted to see you for myself.”

She came around the counter, kissed Zurie on the forehead, and then hugged me tight. Her perfume smelled expensive and soft, like flowers after rain.

“You take care of yourself,” she said. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for coming.”

I walked her to the door. Outside, a black luxury car was waiting with a driver who’d clearly been sitting there the whole time. I watched her get in, and the car pulled off quietly.

When I locked the door and turned back toward the kitchen, the whole house felt warmer. I grabbed my phone from the counter, and there was a message from Pressure.

Pressure: Did my mama come by?

I smiled, shaking my head.

It was funny how it took for him to send his mama for me to soften up again, but somehow, the visit felt like more than that. It felt like the beginning of something real, and something that could finally heal what was broken between all of us.