Page 67 of Exit: Us
“3…2…1,” we both said, and we dropped the sheets of paper into the fire. It landed in the center of the fire.
I paid attention to the corners of the papers, watching as the corners were the first things to turn black. The ink began to disappear line by line. While this was happening, Amina and I didn’t say anything. We watched everything that we just finished surrendering became ash. All I saw was heartbreak, trauma, anger, regret, and shame be put into the fire, and it was buried. I never realized the importance of letting go past trauma before stepping into a new relationship. It made all the sense in the world that Amina had suggested we do this.
Once there wasn’t anything left of the paper, I reached for Amina, pulling her to me. I had her stand in front of me, and I wrapped my arms around her waist. I leaned my head into the crook of her neck, taking this moment in.
“I just want to be able to give you the best version of myself,” Amina blurted to me.
“You will. I want to give you the best version of myself as well. We going to be straight, baby,” I let her know, right before kissing her a couple of times on her cheek.
After that, I had her turn around, so that she could face me.
“I know I already told you that we’re a couple, but after this, I feel like I have to formally ask. I feel like I gotta do it the right way. I wish I had had some flowers, a band, and all the other extra shit, but I’ll keep it simple. You wanna be my girlfriend?” I felt corny as hell asking her this, but I had to.
I know that women loved corny shit like this. I was right because when I asked, Amina was smiling from ear to ear, showing all of her pretty white teeth.
“Yes. I want to be your girlfriend, Gemini,” she told me, and I lit up the same way that she did.
I pulled her to me, cuffed her by her chin, and we started kissing. I felt good in this moment. I haven’t had a girlfriend since my college days. I promise that I wasn’t going to fuck this up. So much good was going to come out of what Amina and I were doing. We’re going to get to a point where she never brings up Jacob’s name again. That’s just how happy I planned to make her.
We’ve been on this truck now for a little over a month. Together, we went through the first phase together which was survival. Then, we went through surrendering. Surrender was deep because we went through different stages of surrendering. We’ve long gone surrendered ourselves to each other, once we learned how to cope, and get along on the truck together. Now, we just had to get through this last phase. To me, this phase was the most important. We’ll be able to see during this phase if the relationship will even stand a chance. Together, we were getting ready to go through commitment. That’s the part that I was ready for.
Exit Three:
COMMITMENT
Chapter 17
Amina Sinclair
“When are you coming home, Mina?” my mom asked me the second that the call connected.
I was still in bed. She kept calling my phone back-to-back, leaving me with no choice but to answer. Even when I answered, I didn’t speak. I just put the phone to my ear, and here she was, rambling, and demanding yet again to know when I would be coming home.
This is how our conversations went every time that we would get on the phone with each other. She would question me on when I was coming home, and then I would tell her that I wasn’t sure, and she would get upset. I didn’t have the balls yet to tell her that the plan wasn’t to go back to London.
“Ma, dang! You don’t say good morning or nothing. Let me fully wake up before you start demanding answers,” I was annoyed as I responded back to her. I know for a fact that my mom couldn’t care less about my annoyance though. Knowing her, she was going to keep pressing.
“I haven’t seen my daughter in two months. Yes, I’m calling you, demanding answers. Please, answer the facetime call. I would like to see your face on the screen, since I don’t have thepleasure of seeing you in person anymore,” she was dramatic as hell with what she was saying.
I couldn’t be mad at her though. She missed me. I honestly missed her just as much. My mom was my girl. Growing up, she made it clear that she wasn’t one of my “lil friends”, but now that I was grown, she’s quickly become one of my home girls. I could go to my mom about anything. Well… up until lately, I could. I’ve been keeping my relationship with Gemini away from her, plus I haven’t been telling her that I didn’t have any plans of coming back home.
I knew my mom, and I knew how she processed things. If I told her that Gemini and I were dating, she would see all the wrong in it. She wouldn’t agree with me dating my best friend’s brother. I only know she would say that because we’ve had many talks over the years, and she’s told me before how she would never date a man that was a part of the family to any of her home girls. So, she would have that to say, plus she was going to feel like me, and Gemini were moving too fast. This is someone that’s never moved on after my father was killed. She’s dated here, and there, but she’s never committed to anything. My father has been gone for almost twenty years, and she’ll still tell you that it’s too soon.
“I’ll just talk to you through regular audio. I’m still in bed,” I responded, quickly coming up with an excuse.
The reason why I didn’t want to answer the facetime call is because I didn’t have any clothes on. I was naked under these sheets and the second my mom saw that, she was going to call it out that me, and Gemini were messing around. I didn’t feel like getting into that with her this morning. I was barely awake. I had no sense of time, or location. The truck wasn’t moving, and I didn’t hear Gemini up front, so he was probably outside.
“Amina, answer the facetime! I want to see you!” she said it this time in a demanding tone.
I groaned, sat up in bed, and I reached for the foot of the bed, going for my pajama top that Gemini had taken off me last night, right before he fucked me to sleep. The sex that we had last night was the reason I was so sluggish this morning.
Once I had the shirt on, that’s when I laid back down, and I accepted the facetime call from my mom. Her beautiful face quicky appeared on the screen. Judging by her background, I could tell that she was at work. She was in her office.
My mom was an attorney. She was an international human rights attorney, and she’s been in that field since we lived back in Miami. I’ve always had a love, and respect for her career. It was the kind of career that took her across different countries, where she stood in different courtrooms, representing clients in cases that involved international law, government issues, and discrimination, just to name a few. Although my father was a genius, I truly believe that my mom was the smartest person that I knew. She was like a walking encyclopedia.
She moved us to London on a heartbreak, after my father was killed, but she went out there and made a name for herself. Her name was big in London. It carried weight in major rooms. It was commendable what she was out here doing, and I didn’t miss an opportunity to tell her that.
“There goes my beautiful, baby. Good morning, princess,” she said with a smile on her face.
