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Normani
I arranged a meeting over coffee with Samira. Right after she finishes her school day. Megan agreed to meet up with us during her lunch break and texted me just seconds ago that she was on her way, finding a place to park.
I offered Samira a ride but she politely declined.
I have this feeling of being watched. A feeling of disgust. I feels strong and I rub my eyes and hold the position there for a second to hide the fatigue on my face. It's a fear that hits me to the core. a feeling I only had when Joshua was in my mere presence. Something that can't be. Maybe it's a feeling I'm getting because I'm meeting his daughter. That's understandable, right?
I have such heavy brain fog and jump with a hand on my shoulder.
It's just Megan, greeting me by rubbing my back and giving me a kiss.
"Hey, baby. You okay?"
"Yeah." I huff out.
"No you not, God, you look nervous. Come here, baby."
"Can we get into it at home?"
"That's fine." she kisses me again and gives me that warm reassuring look that sends me into oblivion and I quickly forget feeling so sick.
She is in her scrubs and has a leather coat that she folds over the seat, her sterile gloves in her front scrub pocket. Our engagement and wedding ring both blinging on her hand.
Suddenly we are then greeted with Sam rushing in with a woman trailing behind her.
"Behave if it's the only good you do today."
Megan makes a face at me immediately, of immediate confusion.
She grabs Samira Condescendingly and I raise my hand and stand.
"We will make sure she's okay, ma'am."
She looks at me with a searing annoyed look. I know this is her mother without any words. However it stops her.
Lastly she just silently nods and makes a look at Samira as she turns on her heals to exit. Clacking and Clacking until she finally leaves the establishment.
"You okay?" Megan offers a kind look to the girl as she sits down and takes her book bag and sets it on the back of the chair.
"Yes, thank you. SO sorry, but that's the story of my life pretty much. My mother."
"You're not in an unsafe situation are you?" Megan continues to ask.
Samira huffs, "Not necessarily, but she's definitely let it be known that I'm living in her house on borrowed time."
"How are you?" I chime in.
"Good. Thank you."
She has a lazy smile as our orders are brought over. We all ordered basic caramel coffees and all the cookies they offered.
