UNRAVELING AMAYA.

5

Being woken up by someone knocking at 7am obviously wasn't in the cards for my morning. One thing I will never play about is my sleep.

I was only met with cool air after I snatched the door open.

I glanced down and raised my eyebrows. A surprise awaited me at my doorstep—two dozen white roses. With me being a well known tulip girl, I was curious about what made Jared waste his own damn money like this.

I carried the large bouquet to the kitchen; As I admired them, I noticed something. Wait a minute. Nestled among them, a card proudly displayed Ryan's name.

"I'll only put pressure on it if you let me."

Enjoyed your company last night. Hope these flowers brighten your morning.

Best,
Ryan

A gentle smile tugged at my lips as I caught on to the Sonder reference—it was cute, I can't lie.

In the quiet of my apartment, I snapped a quick photo of the roses, intending to share the moment with Ryan and send him a 'Thank you'.

Good morning. Thanks for the surprise lol the flowers are beautiful

I couldn't help but wonder about the nuances of our connection. Beneath the initial joy was a shadow of skepticism.

Ryan's thoughtful gesture raised questions in my mind. What the hell does he want from me? I knew I was overthinking but I was trying to be logical here—I wouldn't even consider last night a date yet here he was, sending me flowers. I can't possibly be that desirable.

Before I could contemplate further, the front door squeaked.  Adrian came strolling in, with his impeccable timing. He waltzed into the kitchen and eyed the flowers with a raised eyebrow. He was getting ready to press me.

"They're not from Jared so don't turn it into a big deal," I sighed, already sensing the impending interrogation. I was lowkey getting tired of his frequent, unannounced visits.

"Who they from then?" His tone carried a hint of disapproval, his gaze flickering between me and the roses.

"A friend." My eyes rolled.

"You actually with the nigga or you just collecting souvenirs now?" Who the fuck is he talking to?

"You think I'm hookin' up with someone just 'cause of some flowers?" That smart ass comment sent me over the edge. "One, nigga, you ain't my daddy," I snapped. "And two, this constant invasion of my space is getting real old."

"I just know how niggas operate." He said, obviously annoyed.

"You act like you're a saint or something. Newsflash, you're not." I emphasized. "Y'know what, get out, Adrian. And give me back my damn key. I'm tired of you comin' in here like you pay bills."

He shot back, "Wait a damn minute, I'm just looking out for you."

I scoffed, "I appreciate your concern, but I'm not a child. How many times do I have to say it?" I don't know why we started bickering so much but I was seriously fed the fuck up with his antics. "I can handle my own life without your constant interference." I'm sure he figured out I wasn't talking about the flowers anymore.

His eyes narrowed. "I can't care about my sister?"

"It's not about caring; it's about control. I'm an adult, Adrian. I need you to respect my boundaries and stop trying to take daddy's spot," I snapped. I could tell that last bit hit a nerve but I wasn't sorry. Sometimes he forgot how much weight I'd pulled for him these past few years—struggling and overworking myself to pay for his lawyers, giving up my spare room and peace. I've never had the luxury of being a damsel in distress; Adrian always beat me to it.