Page 175 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

I clear my throat and try to sniff again.

“Well,” I start. “There’s the issue that Harvard is fu— um, freakin’ hard. So there’s the issue of how I’ll do schoolwork and take care of a baby?”

She nods again.

“You’re right. That’s impossible without help.”

Now it’s my turn to hum.

“You know your father and I will be there for you.”

I jolt. Daddy is going to shit a brick.

“Hey,” Mama says, tilting my chin up. “You leave your father to me. He’ll come around. He doesn’t have much room to talk, after all. Considering howyougot here.”

She taps my nose with the tip of her index finger, and I smile, but it doesn’t quite land right.

“So yes. I need some help if I decide to go that way.”

Mama nods.

“Maybe…with Storm’s help?” She’s gentle when she touches on the topic, and I clutch at my phone again, making it light up.

No new notifications.

Still.

“I think that maybe…um…I don’t know where Storm is with things.”

More tears come then, and I know she wants to ask more questions, but instead, she just keeps rubbing my back as I choke through my tears.

When the sobs slow, she says, “You’re forgetting the biggest question of all, Shae.”

“What is it?” I ask.

“What do you want? Not me, not your dad, not that Sandoval boy. What doyouwant? Do you want to be a mom right now? Do you want to go to Harvard? What is it that you want—just for you?”

I look up at her then, my chin trembling. “I don’t…I don’t know what I want, Mama.”

Except Storm. I want Storm desperately.

But he’s not here.

“Well, baby,” she says, stroking my face. “You’re in a big girl problem now, which means you’re gonna have to figure that out, and soon.”

I sniff again, nodding slowly. She’s right. I know she’s right. Why am I so afraid of making a decision?

Storm should be here.

“But lucky for you, I can be here to hold you while you figure it out. Because I’m always going to be here to support you, honey. Whatever you decide.”

I smile then, the first smile I’ve truly felt since looking at those pink lines.

“How did I get so lucky to have a mama like you?” I ask.

She pulls me closer. “God always gives you what you need.”

35

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