Only for You

16: Mother's...

Fatima pushed open her front door, the familiar scent of home filling her senses. Before she could even set her bags down, her mother's voice rang out from the kitchen.

"Fatima?" Fiona called, her tone sharp and filled with urgency.

"Yes, Mama," Fatima replied, stifling a sigh as she braced herself.

Fiona's head appeared around the corner, her phone pressed to her ear. "It's fine, Oliver. She's home," she said into the call, sounding relieved yet exasperated. Fatima rolled her eyes, setting her bags down as Fiona finally ended the call and walked fully into the foyer.

"Where on earth have you been?" Fiona demanded, not giving Fatima even a moment to settle in. "You just left here Saturday night, and now you waltz in here at five in the afternoon on a Monday?"

Fatima let out a long sigh. "Mama, I'm twenty-nine years old. I'm a grown woman. I can do as I please."

Fiona crossed her arms, her gaze skeptical. "And where, exactly, did you please to go, miss grown woman?"

Fatima hesitated, not wanting to divulge every detail. "I took a trip."

"A trip?" Fiona's eyebrows shot up as her gaze drifted to the bags beside Fatima. "I hope your ass went to look for Anthony," she muttered, her tone full of disapproval.

Fatima's eyes widened, frustration bubbling up. "No, Mama, I didn't. Because I don't want to be with Anthony!"

Fiona let out a groan, shaking her head. "Fatima, you're just throwing away a perfectly good man. All these years, Anthony has been so patient, and you're running off on last-minute trips with God knows who!"

Fatima squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Mama, can we not do this right now? I don't want to argue."

"Well, maybe you should want to listen," Fiona shot back, her voice growing sharper. "You need to settle down, Fatima. It's time you started taking life seriously, stopped acting like some...some nomad!"

Fatima looked at her mother, a mixture of hurt and annoyance in her eyes. "Mama, I take my life very seriously. Just because I don't want the life you want for me doesn't mean I'm not living with purpose."

Fiona's gaze softened slightly, but she wasn't giving in. "What purpose, Fatima? Running off to God knows where on a whim with a man who clearly isn't Anthony?"

Fatima folded her arms, meeting her mother's stare with a defiant glint in her eye. "If you must know, I went to Paris."

Fiona's eyes widened slightly. "Paris—" she started, but Fatima cut in before she could say more.

"And you're just going to assume I went with a man?" Fatima challenged, arching an eyebrow.

Fiona let out a scoff, her expression turning incredulous. "Who else would you go to Paris with, huh? Toni has a baby—were you with Brandy?" Fiona groaned knowingly, rolling her eyes. "That girl has always been a terrible friend," she muttered, almost to herself. "Dragging you into her nonsense back in college, remember? Always up to no good..."

"Mama," Fatima said, exasperated, "this has nothing to do with Brandy."

"Oh, it never does until she's right in the middle of it," Fiona replied, still shaking her head.

Fatima's jaw clenched. She took a steadying breath, forcing herself to stay calm. "Yes, Mama, I went to Paris with a man. And you know what? I had an amazing time. I'm not apologizing for that."

Fiona's mouth pressed into a thin line, disapproval etched across her face. "An amazing time?" she repeated slowly, as if trying to process her daughter's words. "So this man...what, he just comes along, sweeps you off your feet, and that's supposed to be enough for you now?"