Indebted Love

♡ un ♡

The way I obey my parents today is unmeasurable. I have my head down, my hands intertwined and my knees together. My hair is tamed and combed, I put perfume behind my ears and chest. My dress is wrinkle free and my shoes fit in just right. I am finally groomed for Adrian Parker.

I say it lightly of course. My mum makes it obvious and blunt, edging me on to be perfect- to not talk unless talked to, to avoid his eyes unless he says so. She squeezes my hands to shut me up, to keep me in check as she pours him a cup of tea.

"I have to admit," she says, "Jalah was a little hesitant at first but I can assure you that she'll be the best wife for you."

She places her hands over mine.

"We went to church, I know she's a virgin and I made sure she has no other boyfriends hiding," Mum continues, maybe beaming so proudly about her top prize.

My head sunk lower and I briefly close my eyes.

"She knows how cook, to clean and do laundry," mum went on, "she keeps plants alive, she can look after children and she's very well gifted Mr Parker."

I open my eyes.

"She going to study masters and then Phd so she's not some dumb black girl. She's excellent."

A small part of me is happy at the way mum boasted about me but the elephant of the room still has my attention.

"I'm sure she'll make you happy in bed too," dad added in, I hear his loud slurp as he takes a sip of tea.

"Yes yes," mum agrees, "I made her watch porn and read all kinds of articles to leave you satisfied." I can her the smirk in her voice.

Someone clears their throats. I lick my lips and wish for tea.

"Ah, thank you... Mrs Ndiaye and Mr Ndiaye," a unrecognisable deep voice speaks out, "I'm sure all of your effort won't go to waste,"

I think I'm going to vomit.

"However, I am not like my father. I am not some perverted preying on young girls." The voice states, "I intend to marry your daughter because this is more of a business interaction and I see that your daughter is exceptionally beautiful so she should marry someone young to keep her image pure."

Heat scatters along my cheeks at the compliment as my heart skips a beat. I feel someone watching me. Their gaze boring deep inside me, seeing something beyond the surface and perimeter of my body. My soul.

"Of course," mum agrees, taking a sip of tea. She's speechless. That's a first.

"Ahh, I have a few questions." Dad prompts up, shuffling around the seat.

I still haven't looked up or moved a muscle. I wasn't sure if I should relax a little and dare to look at this mysterious man still staring at me. It's making me feel hot and annoyed.

"Ask away," the man says and I can't get over his voice. It's deep but smooth, like a sweeten wine or mango juice that soothes your throat and makes your heart sing.

I raise my chin a little higher, licking my lips once more. I still keep my eyes down.

"What is your name son?" Dad asks.

"Angel Quinn sir," the man answers and I hear a small smile.

I couldn't resist looking at him. Raising my eyes without his permission, catching him with his eyes on me. It was only a second but I feel as if I'm burned to ashes. That look he has right know went straight to my core.

"Quinn?" It was Tammie that spoke this time, her knees brushing my right knee. "Not Parker?"

Angel shakes his head, the corner of his pink lips quirking up into a small open smile. He has blue eyes, still staring at me with such intensity. I hold his stare equally and just as hard.