"Comm check...
Testing, one... two...
Kwes Boaz speaking.
...you a hear me?
Ah. You ever wake up and feel like something's...missing? That's my life. Seven years after. Now I'm back, but nothing's the way I left it. Not even me.
Amnija happened righ...
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AMNIJA KLARITY OTTOMAN ᴀᴍᴏʏ
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It was Mother's Day.
Spa day.
Kwes was treating us. Me, Nana, Mommy, Cadence, and Chardonnay. Girls' day out, and I shoulda been hyped.
But instead, I was locked in the bathroom trying not to cry.
So many people were texting me:
Happy First Mother's Day!
Welcome to motherhood!
Enjoy your day, mama!
But it wasn't my first. It was my eighth.
Eighth one. And I didn't even know. Eight years of silence. Of a missing piece. Eight years where I smiled and posed like life was perfect. Whole time, my baby was out there calling another woman Mommy.
Dat shit bunnnnn mi!
I patted my cheek, trying not to smudge my makeup.
Breathe, Amoy. Just breathe. You're not doing this today.
"Amoy!" they called again from the car.
I wiped my eyes quick and blew out a breath. "Mi a come!" I shouted, rushing out and closing the bathroom door behind me.
"Come enjoy yuhself, man," Nana teased when I climbed in. "Look how much weeks yuh affi go court wid the devil woman. You need peace."
Speaking of court...
This court case had me on edge. I never knew fighting for your own child could feel like war.
Our lawyer, Amy Blackman, was one of the best in Jamaica. CPS had already taken him from Janet back in March, thank God, making him stay with Nana. Since she's a JP, she has connections with the Government and luckily... me.
But Janet... the audacity in her chest—was trying to get joint custody. She outada, claiming she raised him with love. Saying she gave him a family.
Whole time she have me pickney a sell weed inna Mobay traffic.
