Let God Be The Author: Chapter 2

Epilogue

Elisha's POV:

7 years later....

"Ouch mama!" Zuri whined as she removed my hand from her thick afro, wincing in pain.

"Can I do it myself?" She pouted as she felt the spot I had previously combed painfully, rubbing it.

Welcome to the life of having a daughter with frizzy, 3b hair.

Taking the comb out of my hand, her bare feet thumped melodiously against the hardwood floor as she made her way to the living room.

Sticking her tongue out in concentration, she stared at her reflection through the full-length mirror, gently brushing and untangling the knots that stuck her hair together.

"Once you're done combing it out, let me know." I stated, letting her be the tiny, independent human-being she was.

"Yes mama." She gave me a little nod and for the first time today, I let out a deep, heavy sigh.

It was another busy day in the Choi residence. Why? Because I, single handedly, was preparing the girls for their first ever father-daughter dance.

It seemed like a simple task, shopping for an outfit and getting them dressed, but with their very distinct and overly opinionated personalities, it became a dreaded mission.

I was being pulled this side and that side, hearing , "Mama come see this" and "Mama come see that.". We'd enter a store, looking for a simple dress and come out with a teddy bear, M&Ms and a colouring book that wasn't on the list.

Sometimes, having twin daughters was like having two, broke, best friends who thought of you as a billionaire. Expensive and the definition of exploitation.

"Mama, can you please do my hair too." Gianna came waltzing into the room with her signature, purple scrunchie around her wrist.

She was already in her sparkly, violet,  dress with ruffles at the bottom and a big bow tie at the back.

Her curly, brown hair rested upon her shoulders as her chestnut eyes turned honeypot when greeted by the intense ray of light.

Although the girls were identical, their personalities were far from that. Zuri was more of a tomboy and enjoyed being in the outdoors, playing with mud, bugs and boys. Instead of attending dance classes and recitals, she joined her father at the gym or went training with him.

Firecracker is what we called her. She had a very bright and bold personality, feared absolutely nothing, except for mascots of course.

The type of child to easily go on stage and give a show-stopping performance in a room full of strangers. She wasn't the best singer or dancer, but the smile she possessed could melt the coldest of hearts. She knew she was adorable and used every ounce of it to her advantage.

On the other hand, we had Gianna, Little Miss Purple. It was safe to say she had a slight obsession with the colour but nothing could compare to the love she had for her father. She was the epitome of a daddy's girl which is bizarre as I was first to hold her.

Whenever she felt bored or her partner in crime wasn't around, she would come downstairs from her playroom and rest herself next to him. They could sit in complete silence for an hour, mumbling a few words here and there as they watched a movie. Sometimes they wouldn't say anything at all.

But you could see from her beautiful eyes, the innocent happiness that glistened in them whenever he was around. She admired him.

"What hairstyle are we doing today?" I pat the empty chair in front of me.