Page 93 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

I’m not doing this with him.

The drive home passes in pieces.

Streetlights blur into each other, headlights flash and disappear, but none of it sticks.

My hands stay firm on the wheel, my eyes on the road, my mind somewhere else entirely… Occupied by things I’m not ready to touch yet. By names I’m not ready to say out loud again.

I pull into the compound and cut the engine, sitting there for a second longer than necessary, the quiet hovering around me like it’s waiting to see what I’ll do next.

Then I grab my bag and step out.

The house is already alive with the soft kind of noise that feels lived in, when I walk in. A cartoon voice spills from the sitting room, repetitive, and paired with the occasional rustle of movement and the faint, unmistakable smell of popcorn.

“Mommy!” Blue’s voice rings out, before I even make it past the doorway, but she doesn’t run to me.

She stays right where she is, perched on the couch, legs tucked under her, eyes glued to the TV like she’s torn between me and whatever is happening on screen.

“Welcome!” She adds loudly, like it’s an announcement she’s been waiting all day to make.

Despite everything, my lips twitch.

Aisha glances back at me from beside her, one leg folded under her, a bowl of popcorn balanced carelessly in her lap. She’s relaxed, comfortable in her comfort Pajamas.

“Hey.” Her eyes scan me, and they linger.

“Hey,” I reply, dropping my keys onto the console, my voice bright enough to pass. “Baby how was your day?” I comb through Blue’s hair.

“Great, Mommy.” She waves at me without looking away from the screen.

I slush past them.

The kitchen light flicks on as I step in, the space cooler, the air different from the warmth of the sitting room.

I set my bag down on the counter, exhaling slowly as I move toward the sink, turning on the tap just to hear something else besides my own thoughts.

Water rushes out, the sound soothing in a way nothing else has all day. I brace my hands against the edge of the counter, letting my head dip slightly as the sound fills the space.

Familiar footsteps follow a second later.

“One of those crazy days?” Aisha asks, leaning against the doorway like she already knows the answer and just wants to hear how dramatic it was.

I reach for a glass, I fill it with water, lift it to my lips, and take a slow sip.

“One of those days,” I confirm dryly, setting the glass down on the counter.

She nods, accepting it immediately.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She tilts her head slightly, “Or do we skip the emotional labor and go straight to adult wine?”

“Wine.” I don’t even think about it.

“Good girl,” she mutters, pushing off the doorframe. “Fast decision making. Aren't you the poster girl for corporate women?”

I almost smile. Almost.

She watches me for a second longer, then squints slightly.

“Wait… this isn’t normal crazy. This is…” she gestures vaguely, “…your face is doing something.”