Page 38 of Certified Pressure 3
We all hugged before leaving, and when we stepped outside, Pressure opened the passenger door for me. I got in, fixing my dress as he walked around to the driver’s side.
As soon as he sat down and started the car, I looked over at him and said, “You know what I was thinking?”
He glanced my way. “What’s up?”
“I think today would be a good day to stop by your parents’ house.”
He paused, one hand on the wheel with his eyes still on the windshield. He didn’t say nothing right away. He just sat there for a second like he was thinking. Then finally, he said, “That’s cool.”
I was surprised. I thought he was gon’ make an excuse, and say he had something else to do, but he didn’t. He just agreed.
I smiled to myself and looked out the window as we pulled off. The ride was quiet but peaceful. The city rolled by, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized how real this was getting.
This wasn’t my first time meeting his parents, but going there now with him saying he was ready to make this official felt different. It felt like I was really about to step into a new chapter of my life.
As we drove, all I could do was hope his mama would give us her blessing and that whatever small piece of doubt left in his heart would finally fade.
Eboni Keep in Nzuri Hall
When we finally reached the Mensah’s estate my mouth almost fell in my lap. The house didn’t even look real. The stone walls glistened under the sunlight and the gold trimming sparkled like it had been hand polished just this morning. Everything about this place screamed power, wealth, and history.
Pressure had one hand on the wheel, the other resting on my thigh like always, while he talked to his mama on the phone. His tone was low and respectful, and something about it always made me pay attention.
“Yeah, Ma, we just pulled in,” he said. “We’ll see you in a minute.”
I smoothed my dress and looked out the window as we drove further up the long driveway. My heart was beating fast but in a good way. This was the kind of place that made you feel like your life was about to change. Just looking at it, I could see myself visiting on weekends, walking through the garden with his mama, planning brunches, and laughing together like mother and daughter. I could already picture the family loving me, welcoming me in, and seeing me as one of them. I could see me and Pressure’s babies running around this house, carrying his last name and his legacy. Everything about it felt like a dream that was slowly becoming real.
Pressure parked near a line of other cars and turned off the engine. He looked over at me and smiled before getting out. I followed, taking his hand when he offered it. The closer we got to the door, the more nervous I felt, but I kept my smile fixed.
When we stepped inside, I could hear faint music and smell something sweet in the air. The marble floors gleamed, and I could see my reflection in them. The sound of a woman’s voice came from the kitchen, so we followed it until we found her.
Abeni was standing near the counter with the chef beside her. She looked stunning as always, her posture straight and her presence commanding even in something simple. She was tasting something from a small silver spoon when she turned around and saw us.
Her face lit up for a second when her eyes landed on her son. “Pressure,” she said, smiling warmly.
He walked up to her and kissed her cheek before pulling her into a hug. She held him tight, then glanced at me. That’s when the warmth in her expression shifted. She smiled again, but this time it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Kashmere,” she said politely. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“You too, Mrs. Mensah,” I replied softly.
She offered me tea, but I declined with a smile. Her tone stayed calm, but her presence had changed. She thanked the chef and told him to finish preparing the food, then turned to us. “Come,” she said, motioning toward the living room.
As we walked, Pressure asked where his father was. Abeni told him he was in a meeting, her tone casual but her body language giving nothing away.
The living room was large and elegant, filled with glass tables and soft white furniture that looked untouched. She sat on one of the couches and gestured for us to sit across from her.
Pressure and I sat together. The silence that followed was long enough to make me uncomfortable. Abeni looked at us both like she was studying a painting she couldn’t quite understand.
Pressure cleared his throat and stood up. “I’mma grab me somethin’ to drink,” he said. “Y’all good?”
I nodded, and he walked out, leaving me alone with her. The moment he disappeared, the quiet deepened.
I smiled politely. “Your home is beautiful,” I said. “You have such good taste.”
“Thank you,” she replied. Her tone was even, but there was something in her eyes that didn’t match her words.
I waited for her to say something else, but she didn’t. She just looked at me for a long moment before finally speaking again. “Kashmere, may I ask you something?”
