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“And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you aren’t wearing your purity ring. Where is it? You took it off for a reason. Are you having sex, Normani?” my mom asked me as if I was sixteen and not twenty-six.
I groaned at her question as I continued to look down and admire my nephew.
“Answer the question, Normani. This is girl talk. I’m not going to report back to your father if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said.
“You reporting back to my father about me losing my virginity is the least of my worries, ma,” I told her.
“So, you’re admitting it then? You did lose your virginity?” she asked.
I laughed, and so did Naomi.
“Ma, I think any person with a pair of eyes can see that your sweet little Normani is no longer a virgin. I knew last week when I brought my baby to the doctor that she was having sex. Her walk said it all,” Naomi called out from next to me.
I shushed her with my hand that wasn’t holding the baby, which only made her laugh harder. My sister was so beautiful. I admired her mommy glow. The weight she picked up after having the baby had just dropped, and I knew that was because she was breastfeeding, which was helping her to burn a lot of calories. Looking at her, you would never even know that she gave birth to this chunky little baby a month ago. Even right now, the only thing she wore was one of those nursing bras and a pair of tights, and she looked great. Her long hair was pulled up into a tight bun, and her skin looked really good. She didn’t have that tired look on her face, like a lot of the new mommies have because my sister was actually blessed with a baby who didn’t cry much, and she would brag on how my nephew slept through just about the whole night. Whenever my time came to have a baby, I hoped mommy mode was as good to me as it was to my sister.
“I hope you’re using protection,” my mom said.
“Mommy, please!” I said, not wanting to have this conversation with her.
I was only so defensive because I knew that I wasn’t using protection with Billionaire.
“Mommy, please, nothing! I can look at you and tell that this man is making you happy. I saw the way you were smiling when your phone starting ringing, and you stepped out. Only a man can have a woman smiling like that. Contrary to what your father thinks about your relationship, I actually support anything that makes you happy. As supportive as I am, don’t you pop no baby out for him, Normani, until there is a ring on your finger, and your last name is changed. I know you don’t want to hear me grilling you, but you don’t want to be just another baby mama to him. He has two already. The goal is for you to be a wife,” my mama grilled me.
I mean, she was my mother, so it was in her nature to be overprotective of me, so I let her. See the difference, though, between her and my father? She did it from a place of love, where my father did it from a place of disrespect. After about five more minutes, I was so happy when the conversation switched, and my mom and sister started talking about the season of Greenleaf that just finished.
I wouldn’t even lie, though, hearing my mom talk, she actually put a lot into perspective for me today. I loved Billionaire, and I knew that he loved me, but I wanted to know where he and I were going with this relationship. I mean, I was living at his house these days because I hardly slept at my house. Khari was living there, and I jumped headfirst into step-mommy mode when I wasn’t even his wife yet. The biggest one of them all was the fact that we were having sex just about every day, and I wasn’t on any birth control. We had to have a conversation, and we needed to have one fast.
I would hate to bring up something today, especially since I was leaving to go out of town, and I would be gone for the next three days. Billionaire was already stressed because his closing date for one of his homes was coming up, he didn’t want me going to New York (I think he expressed that every day), and he was stressed about what was going on with Denim, but I still wanted to have a conversation.
8:34 P.M.
“I just got to the airport to drop off my girl. Nah. Nah. When I leave here, I’m picking up my daughter from my mama’s house, and I’m in the house for the night. I don’t want to be ’round no strippers tonight, nigga,” Billionaire said from the driver’s seat.
I wasn’t even paying his conversation any attention because I was focused on the welcome email I was reading over for the doctors’ convention that started tomorrow morning. When he mentioned something about strippers, my head shot up, and I shot daggers at him with my eyes. He laughed at me and reached down to squeeze my small thigh. His attire for the night was laid back. He wore a pair of gray sweatpants with the matching gray hoodie, and the hood was over his head.
He was driving with one hand, and the other hand was holding the phone to his ear as we pulled up to the parking garage at the airport. It was dark in the car because the sun had gone down, but as he laughed, I could see his gold teeth flashing at me. I ignored him and his conversation, and I got back to reading over the email, highlighting important things in it that I needed to pay attention to.
I was dressed comfortably, but my big, oversized coat was draped across the backseat. As soon as I touched down in New York tonight, I would put that on. I had on a pink and green AKA sweatsuit, and I wore my tan colored Uggs. As much as I hated going through the whole process of keeping up with my straight hair, I stopped by the Dominicans earlier today after I left my sisters and let my stylist do a wash and a blowout. I got my ends cut ass well, so my hair was just parted down the middle.
“Aight. I’ll hit you up tomorrow,” Billionaire told whoever he was talking to, and then he hung up the phone.
“Daddy ain’t going to go and look at no strippers. I swear Ima be on my best behavior while you’re gone. I don’t even want you to fuckin’ go. They can’t video call you from the convention or some shit? Fuck I’m supposed to do for the next three days without you? Who going to cook me breakfast in the morning? Wash a nigga back when I’m in the shower?” he said, making me laugh.
“You make me feel like I’m your slave,” I said, locking my phone and putting it on my lap.
I would just read over the rest of the document once I got on the plane. Although I was catching a late flight to New York, I knew I wouldn’t fall asleep on it like a lot of the other passengers would. For one, flying wasn’t my favorite thing in the world to do, although I did like taking trips, plus I was flying alone, so I wanted to be up and alert, so I could be aware of everything going on around me. The welcome email that I had been looking at was lengthy, so I would rather just wait and give it my undivided attention, that way I didn’t have to rush over it like I was doing now.
“Nah, it’s just certain shit that can’t nobody else do but you. You one of a kind, baby,” he told me as he pulled the car into a parking spot.
We were pretty early. I was flying on American in first class, and I didn’t have to go through the whole check-in process, so we had time to sit in the car and chill before we got out. I smiled at his comment, and then I looked out of the window, paying attention to a family that had pulled in right next to us, and they were all getting out.
“What’s wrong? You been quiet since you came home from getting your hair done,” he said, picking up on my mood swing.
I knew he would notice the difference because even I knew that I wasn’t myself after the conversation I had earlier with my mother. It wasn’t like him to not pick up on when I acted differently. I removed my seatbelt and shifted in my seat, facing him. Looking him in his eyes, I prepared myself to ha
ve a serious conversation with him.
“Where do you see this relationship going between you and me? I love you, Billionaire. I love what you and I have going on, but I’ll admit that I don’t want you to get too comfortable with just this, and when I say this, I’m referring to the fact that there is no commitment, and I’ve pretty much halfway moved in with you. I don’t want you to think that this is the only option you and I have, and you forget about marriage somewhere later down the line. No, I’m not asking you to propose to me now, but I just want to be sure that you do have something planned as far as a future with me. No disrespect toward Sidnesha or Denim, but I don’t want to be baby mama number three. I actually want a commitment from you,” I told him, speaking my truth.
