As they continued to discuss our plans, the excitement in the room grew. It was clear that this trip would be more than just a vacation; "Don't forget to pack comfortable shoes," Mom reminded us. "We're going to be doing a lot of walking."
"And a good camera," Raymond added. "We need to document every moment."
Later that evening, as the house settled into its usual rhythm, I found myself standing by the window, staring out into the night. The stars twinkled above, a silent, constant presence in the ever-changing world. I took a deep breath, drawing strength from their steadfast glow.
I knew the conversation with my parents was inevitable, but for now, I allowed myself a moment of peace, a brief respite from the storm that was brewing.
Mom knocked on my door, and I quickly responded, "Hey, Mom."
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing, Mom, I was just thinking about work."
"You know I can tell when you're lying," she said, guiding me to sit by the window. "Out with it."
Tears streamed down my face instantly.
"Is it tough being here all alone? Is it about the young man?"
"Mom, it's more complicated than that. I don't even know where to begin," I sobbed.
"You have to explain everything to me. You know I'm neutral," she reassured me.
I began detailing the entire situation involving Junior, pregnancy, and marriage.
Mom listened intently, her face a mixture of concern and understanding. She didn't interrupt, allowing me the space to pour out my heart. When I finally paused, taking a shaky breath, she gently squeezed my hand.
"Sweetheart, I know it seems overwhelming now, but you're not alone in this. We will figure it out together," she said softly.
I nodded, feeling a small sense of relief. "But what if I make the wrong choices? What if I hurt people I care about?"
"Life is full of difficult decisions, and sometimes we do make mistakes," Mom replied. "But that doesn't mean we stop trying to do our best. It means we learn and grow from those experiences."
I leaned my head against her shoulder, feeling the weight of the world slightly lift. "Mom.i am more scared of how dad will react in all of this you know how stubborn he is."
"Yes, I understand your worries," Mom said, her voice soothing. "Your father can be quite set in his ways, but he loves you deeply. We just need to approach him carefully and honestly."
I sniffled, trying to steady my breathing. "But what if he doesn't accept it? What if he refuses to support me?"
Mom looked me in the eyes, her expression firm yet loving. "We will cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, let's focus on taking things one step at a time. Your well-being and the babies are the most important things right now."
I nodded, appreciating her wisdom. "Okay, Mom. I trust you."
"Does he know about you?"
"No, Mom, not yet, and I don't think it's necessary. I am far from all of that, and my identity is all hidden. All he knows is that he married a cardiologist from Africa. We will cross the bridge when we get there."
"Okay, as long as you know what you're doing."
"I hope I am doing the right thing, Mom." While we were talking, my phone rang. "Mom, it's Junior."
"Go ahead, I will check on the boys." She left, and I answered my phone without speaking.
"Biscuit."
"Hey."
"I am downstairs."