Page 15 of For the Lover in You
All professionalism had gone out the window. I was over him. He came in with his chest poked out, but once I finished with him, he was going to be leaving with his tail tucked.
"Man, whatever. I'm still taking you to court. I hope this job opportunity is paying you enough because by the time I'm done with you, you're going to need five more jobs."
"Get the fuck out of here!" Chasity seethed. "Take you and your two infants and leave before I have to help y'all!"
The man stuck up his middle finger and turned to leave. The young woman rolled her eyes and followed behind the man like a child.
The three of us stood in silence until the door shut behind them. As soon as the door closed, Mila gasped. My eyes shot to her. Tears fell rapidly down her face. Witnessing her cry tugged at my heartstrings.
"Cousin, please don't cry. Kyle won't get away with this. KJ will remain with you."
"He-he, he has money. He has pull. I'm going to lose KJ. Chasity, I can't lose my baby."
Mila fell into Chasity's arms, weeping, not caring about the customers in the restaurant.
The last time I saw a woman cry the way Mila cried was my mother. I was five years old, and my father up and moved me and my sister many states away, cutting off all communication with her, all because she suffered from postpartum depression.After my mother had my sister, she wasn't herself. She was depressed and became careless around the house and unaffectionate with my dad. She resorted to the bottle and became an alcoholic. Instead of my father getting her the help she needed, he belittled her and mistreated her, causing her to resort more to liquor for comfort.
By the time my sister turned a year old, he'd had enough. He packed our bags and moved us far away. My mother pleaded and cried, but my father had no remorse. Even when my mother got clean, he still kept her away from us. My father had the upper hand, money-wise. I missed out on a mother's love throughout my childhood and teenage years, which had a horrible impact on me. There was no way I was going to let this innocent young boy experience what I did.
"Chas, let me talk to Mila for a second."
"Trey—" Chas started.
"On some real shit. Let me just talk to her."
She huffed. Mila still had her head on Chasity's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.
"At least help me get her to the back. I don't need this shit getting back to Justin. She's really going to get fired then."
I helped Chasity get Mila to the back in an office, which I figured to be Justin's because of all the pictures of him and his husband hanging up. Mila was still weeping as Chasity sat her on the couch.
"I'm going to call Trina and see if she can help with this," Chasity said to Mila. She looked at me and raised a brow. "Don't make shit worse, Trey."
Chasity sped out of the office on a mission. I stood there watching Mila cry. I imagined this was how my mother was on many nights alone, broken and defeated. I glanced around the room, hoping to find a tissue for Mila to wipe her tears. Hermakeup was ruined, and her eyes were puffy. Luckily, Justin had a box of Kleenex on his desk.
"Here, clean your face," I instructed, handing her a tissue.
She hesitated, then eventually took the tissue. "Thanks," she mumbled.
"You're welcome."
I watched as she dabbed her stained face. Even though she was upset, I couldn't deny that her beauty was still prominent.
"Mila, I meant everything I said out there. Let me help you."
She shook her head. "I'm not a charity case. I don't want or need any help. I appreciate you for sticking up for me, but you dug me into a deeper hole. I can't prove all that stuff you said out there. When my divorce was finalized a few months ago, I thought I would never have to deal with him again." She dropped her head into her hands.
"Yes, you can prove it," I insisted. "Take the job and the apartment."
"How will I do that?"
"I have an office manager position open at my real estate company. We're interviewing now, but the job is yours if you want it."
"What about all the other people? I can't just come in and bump their chances of getting the job," she said.
"What about them? It's my company. I have the final say."
I could see the hesitation all over her face. Mila was skeptical, and I didn't blame her, but this was not the time for her hesitation. She needed to keep her son, and if it meant me bumping all the other potential candidates out of the way, so be it.
