The story of a single father with a dark past learning that money doesn't make him a man and a black girl who's struggling to rebuild herself less on a man and more on herself.
❝No matter how good of a woman you are, you'll never be good enough for...
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Eden's POV
"Cheese or pepperoni pizza?" I asked, looking over my menu at Safiya.
Her eyes were glued to the menu, reading over things for a fourth time. Well technically, she was looking at the pictures.
Since we had gotten there, she had already colored two kids menus, filling in every white space. But she lost interest when her red crayon broke, this moving on to examine the adult menu.
"I dunno," she replied softly, putting down the menu and reaching over to grab the book with the desserts and drinks in them.
"Half and half sounds good," I said more to myself than to her. "I think we'll get that.... Good plan."
Cameron hadn't texted me in a long time which was unusual but I wasn't going to push it because he said he was busy too. I pushed the thought aside and turned my focus towards Safiya.
"So how old are you," I asked, trying to start up a conversation until the waiter got to our table.
"I'm five," she said, preoccupied with a picture of pumpkin pie. Even though she was distracted, she tried her best to seem interested. Holding up four fingers, she gave me a toothy grin. "Five. But... six in December."
I nodded and laughed a little. "Cool, cool. What are you getting for your birthday? Something crazy like a pony or a maybe an Iphone?" I knew that she didn't need a phone at sevenbut with Dante's money, she could have anything her little heart desired.
"I'm getting a star," Safiya replied as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "A purple star. And my daddy's getting a red one."
The waiter came and I ordered the most expensive pizza on the menu. It came with an appetizer, premium breadsticks, red wine, and two desserts of my choosing. I substituted the red wine for an extra dessert and made sure to keep the receipt just in case Dante asked if I was drinking around Safiya.
After ordering, the five year old asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I thought for a moment before responding.
"This year I want... uh... You know what, Safi? I don't even know."
Safi met my eyes and giggled. "Then how are your parents supposed to get it for you," she asked, tilting her head to the side. "You gotta tell them so they know."
"I knoooow but I don't think my parents can get this for me. For my birthday, I want an engagement ring," I said softly, messing with my hair because I had never really admitted out loud that I was ready for something like that.
