With your vision cloudy and body unstable, you could vividly see the haunting images of deception flashing throughout your mind.
Pressed against the rim of the toilet you could taste the vomit staining the inside of your mouth as the bitter taste r...
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Seventy-two hours have passed since you last seen your weeping husband and with your feelings spiraling as you processed the information, you found yourself barricaded into your hotel room.
With the curtains closed blocking the view of the Eiffel Tower, bottles of red wind scattered throughout the room and Mary J. Blige's Share My World album on a replay you enjoyed your alternative mindset.
After mentally running away from the reality of your failed marriage you drowned yourself deep into the liquor as streams of your foundation separated on your face mocking the path of your stained tears.
With a headache pounding in your frontal lobe, you found yourself waking up on the disheveled bed with an empty bottle of merlot lying underneath the palm of your right hand. While your left hand attempted to block the strong rays of sunshine peeking through the thin, lightweight curtains.
"—fuck." You hissed, as you lifted off of the bed.
Vision still blurry from your intoxicated state you placed a hand on your forehead in attempt to control your hangover. Feeling the increasing pressure of the headache pounding against your skull along with the dryness of your throat, and the acidic taste imprinted on your tastebuds you felt the churning of your lower half occur. Abruptly puffing up your cheeks you felt the food shift as it raced up your esophagus.
Quickly placing a hand over your mouth you jumped ontop of the bed and onto the other side of the room reaching the grand bathroom. Shuffling over towards the toilet you propped your hands on the rim before releasing the liquid contents into the toilet.
Heavily heaving throughout your spewing of vomit you desperately attempted to get some oxygen to your lungs throughout the grueling process.
It was in that moment when you decided to get your shit together. Mopping around and slowly killing your liver wasn't gonna heal your failed marriage or get rid of the anxiety of telling your kids that you were planning on leaving their father.
Within the next couple of minutes, you got on the aircraft to Wakanda and within the next few hours you found yourself walking down the hallways of the Jabari kingdom. As you turned the corner you faced your children's playroom where you could see them playing with their miniature action figures and play animals. Briefly pausing infront of their door you inhaled before pushing it open while instantly catching their attention as you entered.
"Umama! Umama!" You heard them shout, as you watched their eyes light up with joy as they dropped their toys before running as fast as their little bodies allowed them. Swiftly dropping onto your knees you opened your arms before feeling your children cling tightly onto body. "Sikukhumbula!" They shouted, in unison as best as they could; well as best as your two year old daughter, the youngest could express.
Suddenly feeling a light haze being placed over you, you felt tears arise as you felt them put small kisses on your cheeks. Sniffling, you saw them stare up at you with curiosity at your current state. "—what's wrong, umama?" Your oldest son, Mandla asked.
