Worthy of Sin

Twenty-Nine

Zola 'Slim' Monroe || December 1998
*excuse any errors*

"What's the matter, Zo? You've been quiet this entire time." I broke my gaze from the window and looked across at my mom who was stirring sugar and non-dairy creamer into her coffee.

She had a few more days here in New York, and I was committed to spending as much time with her as possible because I didn't know when we would see each other again. I would probably take a trip down to Oakland during the Spring or Summer, but as of now, I wanted to cherish the time.

"Nothing's wrong... I'm just thinking, that's all."

All she did was chuckle and shake her head. She removed her spoon from the mug and the remaining drops on the spoon served as a taste test before she set it on a napkin and revert her full attention to me.

"I've known you for 22 years, my love. Six months apart will never change the fact that I know when you're bothered by something."

I remained quiet, tapping my nails against the table's surface.

"Are you still bothered by our conversation? If so, I didn't mean to offend you with my words. I didn't have to be so abrasive when getting my point across." She says and I looked at her once again.

"All I was trying to say was— you sometimes have the tendency to act off impulse and emotion. It takes awhile for things to register for you and when they finally do, you realize whatever situation you're in, you're in too deep."

I felt exposed in this moment. She didn't know exactly what I had going on, but the fact that she was able to read me made me feel bare. My guilty conscious had me caught out there.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

"I know... I know." My voice cracked as the lump in my throat seemed to enlarge with every passing moment. By the way she was staring at me, she knew good and well that there was something weighing on me heavier than just her words.

But, instead of speaking, she granted me the space to express myself at my own pace.

"You don't have to apologize because you're right..." I wiped my eyes dry, and she grabbed a few napkins and handed them over to me.

"I still wanted to apologize because there was a better way for me to express that. What's the matter, Zoey? You're usually not this emotional." She asked and I shrugged while drying my eyes.

She made a good point. I typically was never this emotional unless I was really hurt to my core. I did feel remorseful because of my recent interaction with Sincere and maybe it was the guilt eating away at me, making me emotional.

Yet and still, it was odd for me to be acting like this.

"I know, but I feel horrible."

"Why, Zo?" Her tone was calm and patient, and that always brought me comfort. Even as a child, for the most part, my mom did her best at trying to be patient and understand my feelings.

I sniffed and inhaled deeply to contain myself before exhaling.

"Sincere came by to see me and we had a conversation about our feelings, and we kissed... and I feel horrible because I liked it." Those words leaving my mouth made my guilt sink in deeper, and I was scared to meet her gaze because even if she didn't let the words leave her mouth, she was thinking it: