Chapters that are stared '★' contain mature themes. The picture is what I imagine Nichole to look like.
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"Mommy, it's fine. You already know he can't get to me" I sigh for the trillionth time this year.
"Ok but what if he escapes"
"It's been three years mom, if he wanted to escape, I'm sure he would've" I get up from the couch and go to my kitchen, setting my phone up so she can see me as I stir the spaghetti.
I have no idea why but if my face is not in the camera while we were on FaceTime, she goes berserk.
"I'm just worried for my baby" she says, and I feel a little bad for saying what I said.
"I know mama, and I love how much you care but there's no need to be getting your blood pressure up over something that I'm not even worried about anymore"
Lie. I haven't stopped thinking about him. I don't think I'll stop. He keeps me from thinking about laying with another man, the thought of even entertaining another man makes me want to claw out my own insides.
It's terrible. Not being able to think about anybody else but not wanting to think about the person that's making your mind unavailable.
"Nichole" I hear little feet slapping on the kitchen floor a little while after I call her name.
"Say hey to Nana" I pick up the phone and hand it to her. I make her a plate and put some watered-down Kool-Aid in her cup.
"Go sit down Cole" I bring her food to the table as she climbs into her seat.
I go turn the stove off before sitting in front of my work computer and getting back to work. After a minute or two I realize I don't hear my mom, so I look up at Nichole seeing her picking at her vegetables.
"Cole what happened to Nana" I ask trying to keep my face serious but when she lets out that cute little giggle, I couldn't hide the grin that spread across my face.
"Did you hang up on her" She shook her head yes while laughing, resembling her dad.
"One day she gone get you for hanging up on her, little girl" I say before getting back to work.
"Mommy" I smile at hearing her voice which I don't hear a lot. She has selective mutism, and she rarely talks to me so when she does, I cherish it with my whole being.
"Yes baby"
"I wanna see Dedushka" Her Russian is getting better, it's almost as good as her English. Ivan is teaching her, and she loves it, she speaks the most when she's with him learning her father's, his sons' language.
"We're going to celebrate your birthday there" I watch her pick through the broccoli, eating the fuller ones but not touching the smaller ones.
