Page 215 of Invisible Bars
I managed a tight-lipped smile, leaned over, and embraced her, holding on for a moment that felt eternal.
“I love you, Mother,” I whispered, the words escaping like a prayer.
“I love you too, Giselle,” she murmured, holding me just a second longer, her warmth offering solace. “Just don’t forget where you come from… because that’s the only place that will remember you when the world acts like it never knew your name.”
That was the last thing she said to me before I left.
As I stepped outside, I slid on my sunglasses like a shield against the world. My heels clicked sharply against the cement walkway, each step echoing like regret dressed in red-bottomed prestige. I didn’t wave to the neighbor across the street or glance back; I simply opened the door of my car, loaded the untouched birthday gifts into the trunk, and sat behind the wheel—silent, grappling with the churning emotions swirling inside me.
Mother’s last chilling words?
“Just don’t forget where you come from… because that’s the only place that will remember you when the world acts like it never knew your name.”
That line clung to me like humidity in a silk blouse.
Will I always have this good life?Or is there something tragic waiting on the other side of my pride to humble me?
The thought made my chest tighten, but I brushed it off—fast.
I slammed my phone face-down on the passenger seat and yanked the gear into drive.
I heard what she said; I just wasn’t ready tolisten.
Chapter Thirty-Four
NAJI
Imanio and I sat across from each other at the dining table for dinner, the mood unusually calm. My plate held grilled salmon over wild rice with sautéed greens—clean, elegant, just like the house. I took another bite of salmon, chewing slowly, savoring the moment—not just the food, but the peace.
“I’ve got a gala to attend next week and I want you to come,” he announced.
I finished chewing, reached for my water, and took a small sip before dabbing the corner of my mouth with a napkin. Then I leaned back slightly in my chair.
“Okay,” I simply replied.
That was it.
There was no dramatic pause, interrogation, or suspicious squinting like he was dragging me into something messy.
Imanio stared at me like I had sprouted wings.
“That’s it?” he asked in a perplexed tone.
I chuckled. “W-what else do you want me to say? You expected a dramatic gasp? A t-tic?”
“At least one question. Nothing about who’ll be there? Or what it’s for?”
I just shrugged and reached for my water.
“I figured you were going to get to that part. S-so what is it for?”
“It’s the annual Legacy Gala. My company throws it every year—industry people, investors, media, press. Basically, a bunch of folks pretending they don’t Google me in private.”
“Oh, okay,” I nodded, casual. “What’s the attire?”
He smirked, finally. “All white.”
“Hmm. What exactly do you plan on wearing?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
