"I'm not asking you to choose me over him, I'm asking you to choose love over convenience!"
She stared down at her tattooed palms watching as the crimson blood rushed to her clenched fists. His long, perfect fingers grabbed ahold of her hand, placin...
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"Yee, I just got back," Reece spoke dryly with the phone pressed between his ear and shoulder.
He kicked the front door closed with his foot and sighed as he stretched out onto the couch.
"So, what did you think?" His mother asked him on the other end of the line.
Reece licked his lips, mentally re-walking the halls of the large condo he toured. It was a spacious four bedroom unit, fully furnished, with large floor to ceiling windows, and a nice balcony with a priceless view of the L.A. skyline. In other words, it was the perfect bachelor pad except Reece was a father. He didn't need a bachelor pad, he needed a family home.
"It was cool, I just... I'on know, ma," he spoke, his voice echoing through the large, empty mansion, "it just ain't feel right. Ro needs space. A big yard she can play and do her thing in. She can't do that in a condo."
As he looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows at his oversized yard which included a full sized basketball court and pool. He couldn't help but feel a pang of nervousness about the house hunting process.
"I just don't know if downsizing is the right move, Ma," he confessed, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
On the other end of the line, his mother sighed softly, empathizing with her son's concerns. She watched his daughter play with the other children in the backyard, grateful for the opportunity to spend time with her while Reece searched for a new home.
"I understand, baby. It's not easy to let go of something you've worked so hard for," she replied, her tone filled with understanding, "I remember when you first got the house. My baby, the first in the family to own a mansion."
Reece smiled to himself recalling the day he closed on the home. He FaceTimed his mother immediately after he got the keys, and had the camera flipped toward the house before she could even answer. She denied it was his over and over until he used the key to open the door. The scream she let out was so memorable, he could hear it clearly six years later.
"Then, you had that ugly custom flooring put in," she continued, "Oh God, that floor looked demonic."
Reece chuckled, looking down at his black and red floors in admiration. His mind drifted back to the day he had chosen that unique flooring. It had been a bold choice, but it had become a beloved centerpiece of his home.
"Everything ain't demonic, ma," he murmured, his voice filled with a touch of nostalgia.
"Mmhm. As if that graffiti on the walls wasn't enough. You and your friends marked that house up like the subway in Harlem."
Reece smiled, thinking back to the late nights spent with his friends, laughing, smoking, and painting until the early hours of the morning. The memories were as vivid as the colors that adorned the walls.
