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I left her to cry in the shower alone and evaluate her choices. I let Kyerra play with me once and paid the ultimate price. That shit wasn’t happening again, so if she was fucking with somebody else, I hope the dick was worth dying over.
The tension from our fight followed me out of the house. It lingered in the confined space of the car, making the drive to the office feel like a silent battleground. Kyerra wasn’t a convincing liar. Something was going on with her, and until she was ready to be honest, the road ahead seemed endless, mirroring the uncertainty of the emotional terrain that awaited me at work.
“Good morning, Mr. Meraux.” Nebula greeted me, climbing up from her seat for the morning pass down.
“Morning, Nebula,” I replied, unlocking my office door and pushing it open.
“Do you need a minute?” She asked, parking in the doorway instead of taking her usual seat across from my desk.
“No, I’m ready.”
She was hesitant but smiled and eased into the armchair.
“Okay, Mr. Carmichael called. He asked if you had any time to see him today?”
“Find some time in my schedule and get back to him.”
“I’m on it.”
“Anything else?” I asked, coming out of my suit jacket and sitting behind my desk.
“Hmm,” Nebula flipped through her notepad. “Jackie from City Council scheduled a meeting next week. Today is actually pretty light.”
I wasn’t in the mental space for a day packed with meetings. Then again, idle time only left me with more fuckin’ questions. I thought we were on the page, but even Ray Charles could see Kyerra was battling something.
“Good. You’ve been working hard. Get out of here early today.”
“Thanks, Boss.”
“You’re welcome. Print me the latest version of the proposal so I can review it before Mr. Carmichael arrives.”
“It hasn’t been updated,” Nebula replied hesitantly. “After he called this morning, I figured you would want it, so I went to print it, but it wasn’t modified.”
Updating was Kyerra’s responsibility.
“Thanks, Nebula.”
“No problem.” She smiled and collected herself, leaving me in my office even more fuckin’ irritated.
Not only was Kyerra acting weird, but she wasn’t doing her job. The job she begged for because she didn’t want to be some trophy wife. I didn’t have the luxury of ignoring my responsibilities, so I got comfortable at my desk. Kyerra did input a few notes, so I used those to update the proposal.
My brain was deep in contract language when there was a light tap on my door, followed by my mother walking inside.
“Hey, Ma. What are you doing here?” I asked, walking from behind my desk to greet her.
“I was in the neighborhood getting my hair done and decided to drop in and see my favorite son.”
“I’m your only son,” I chuckled.
“One of you is enough.”
“You have a hot date or something tonight?” I asked, tugging at one of her curls.
“Because the only time a woman gets her hair done is for a man?”
“Here you go.”
“Are you taking your wife on a date?” She asked, taking off her jacket and sitting in the chair. “She dropped off some clothes for Bryson, and I couldn’t help but notice the stress in her eyes.”
