All That Matters

09 | Flaws and All

Pressing her finger on the lit up circle, Mila sighed once more. Her arms were aching as she adjusted Dylan's body weight once again. It was nine in the morning and she'd come to Yasmine's home, still anxious to return to her own.

Her phone was dead and she was so, so tired. This was the only place she felt that she could go to with no judgment. This was her only family.

The darkly stained wooden door opened and Mila didn't see anyone there until she looked down. "Hey Halle, where's your mommy?"

"In her bed, Auntie Mila." She ran in the direction of Yasmine's bedroom, her fluffy house shoes colliding with the wooden floors. Mila followed her lead, finally relieving herself by laying Dylan on the edge of Yasmine's bed before going into the adjoined bathroom.

"Girl, I'm surprised you up and over here this early. You're lucky Halle had me up because she wanted fruit Minnie Mouse pancakes with her lil extra ass." Yasmine spoke from her bed, thinking about how much her daughter was like her. "Clay was over last night and hired a private chef to make us dinner. It was everything."

As Yasmine continued to yap, Mila observed her appearance in the mirror. Her lip was swollen and tender and dried blood was still on there since the napkins in her car had done a bad cleanup job. Her eyes were red and puffy since she'd been crying all night and couldn't find the will to sleep. She just drove around until the sun and Yasmine awoke.

Grabbing a clean rag, she dampened it with lukewarm water and cleaned the small but painful and visible cut. Joey's words or actions no longer phased her and she wasn't scared of him, it was just humiliating, and he was embarrassing. And now she had a reminder of it and an alert of it on her face for others to see.

She waited a little bit before rejoining Yasmine in her bedroom which served as a canvas for her maximalist decoration style. The mirror wall behind her headboard captured the cherry blossom pink satin sheets on her bed that tastefully juxtaposed her leopard print rug and dangly, leafy green plants. Just as Yasmine moved Dylan's body so she'd sleep comfortably, Mila sat up top, grabbing the My Melody throw pillow to snuggle with, which happened to be the friend of her Kuromi at home.

"Can I—" She cleared her throat when her words came out from a deep rasp. "Can I use your charger?" Mila asked the back of Yasmine's rose bonnet and nightgown.

"Yeah, of course. You must be tired with that raspy voice, sounding like a grown man." Yasmine giggled as she made her way back to her warm spot. She didn't at all mind Mila's showing up unannounced, in fact, it reminded her of the days when they were essentially roommates. The two of them, along with their daughters, shared every moment and meal together. Slumber parties were endless and the sisterhood was tethered tighter with secrets. It was every pair of best friends' dream. Until moments like now, when reality popped their girl bubble.

Mila looked up, waiting for Yasmine's eyes to meet hers instead of filling with disorientation when she looked in her direction. "What happened?" Her voice then matched the softness of her bedsheets. She knew about Joey's impromptu visit and how things used to get physical between him and Mila but didn't want to jump to conclusions. Especially since she'd had a few injuries from her daughter's innocent roughness.

She was able to recap the events without getting emotional, but the same thing couldn't be said for Yasmine. She gently grabbed Mila's face in her hand to further observe her for any more damage. Yasmine hated Joey and his manipulative arrogance. He was opportunistic and ingenuine, and she blamed him for a lot of the things Mila went through when they lived in New Orleans.

"Why didn't you call me? I swear I could kill him. Next time he better hope I'm not with you. We'll jump his ass." Yasmine crossed her arms with anger knotting within her.