"you say it's because of my age, girl, but age ain't nothing but a number"
*
a story of which a mother of two finds herself entangled with her son's best friend, jungkook.
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I braced myself for the storm that was due to hit when I got home. The fact that I left home at the middle of the night and didn't come back home until the next night? Plus no calls or texts from anyone.
I walked into the house, not really sure of what to anticipate, but to my surprise, the house was in orderly fashion and I could smell the aroma of dinner being made.
Eyebrows furrowed, I wondered to the kitchen to see Robert making some spaghetti. As soon as he heard my footsteps, he turned around instantly.
I could feel myself grow uncomfortable by just feeling his eyes on me but I stared at him nonetheless, making sure not to look scared. He made his way towards me and instantly I mentally prepared for the slap but to my surprise, he pulled me in for an embrace.
"I'm so sorry, Jada." He murmured in my ear, while stroking my hair. "I shoulda never laid hands on you. I was just mad and even though I was mad that doesn't warrant that type of behavior. You know how much I care about you, right? When I do shit like that, it's just my way of showing I care. I was worried about you and I wanted to call and text so bad but I figured you needed some space and that's granted because what I did was fucked up—"
"Robert." I said quietly as his grip around me was getting tighter.
"And-and I thought long and hard about it. I was reflecting. Even during the Lakers game. I was thinking of different ways to make it up to you—"
"Robert, stop. You're spiralling." I grunted trying to pry him off me.
"I just need you to listen to me, okay, Jada? I want to apologize but I also got something I want to tell you, it's important—" Robert murmured.
"I want you out of my house by tonight." I told him straightforwardly, finally pushing him off me. The expression on his face distorted.
"Jada—"
"Tonight, Robert. Or I'm calling the police." I said firmly, not changing my mind.
"Why? Because I hit you?" He asked me, looking somewhat hurt.
"You think I don't want you around because you hit me? Do you think I give a fuck if you beat me? Like you haven't been beating me for years now? There's times where you've beaten me so badly, I've woken up in hospital beds— and yet I still stayed! So do you think I actually give a fuck about that? Why do you think I stayed with you all those years? It's because you made all the money and you would help me with the kids." I snapped at him. "Robert, I would take all the beatings in the world if that meant you made this family any better and you actually do your part as a father and the man of this house. But you don't. You make everything worse when you're around and I need you gone. Destiny walked in yesterday and she saw me on the floor bleeding—"
"And it will never happen again. She didn't even know what happened, she just think you hurt yourself while cooking—" Robert tried to defend himself.
"I don't care." I reiterated through my gritted teeth. "That was one time too close. I need you out. Now."
