A Girl in Black and White (Alyria 2)
I sat up, my thoughts chaotic. “Mother, you are older, and therefore slightly wiser—” Samira snorted, “—don’t you have any advice for me?”
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Well, start bedding someone else. It should pass in time.”
I sighed, sitting back against the chaise. I wasn’t bedding anyone at all, so that particular suggestion wouldn’t help.
“Reina, your advice is hogwash. You don’t know anything about love,” Samira said, thrusting a wine glass at my mother, some purple liquid almost sloshing over the sides.
My mother’s gaze narrowed as she snatched the cup from her hand. “And you do? How long has it been since you’ve been with a man? Surely I have more experience in the matter.”
Samira rolled her eyes. “She is talking about love. Not tupping anything that moves!”
“I have higher standards than that.”
“Hardly,” Samira responded, then focused her gaze on me. “Now you listen here, dear. If you love him, then tell him.”
Ugh. I thought I could taste my breakfast once again.
My mother scoffed. “Samira, you’ve no idea what you’re speaking of. She won’t degrade herself like that.”
“You degrade yourself every night in a different man’s bed! Looks where it’s gotten you. You don’t even know the meaning of love.”
“You don’t understand,” I told Samira. “I just want it to go away. That’s all.”
Her face softened. “Honey, if it goes away it’s not real love.”
My mother snorted.
Samira ignored it. “I’ve been with my James for fifty years. I know what I’m speaking of.”
I’d never entertained the idea of a future with Weston. Could I even put him in place of my blacksmith? Wake up next to him every morning? Instead of washing soot, wash the blood off his clothes? Even if I could fathom the idea, Weston didn’t have a future like that ahead of him.
I shook my head. “We can’t ever be together like that.”
“Finally, some sense in this house,” my mother muttered.
“Why not?” Samira asked.
“Because . . .” Weston is going to go mad sooner than later, and he kills . . . everyone. “It’s complicated. But impossible.”
“Well, if that is truly the case, then make sure you get everything off your chest so you can move on feeling like you’ve said everything you needed to say. Because if you don’t, the words will go through your head for the rest of your life.”
I blinked, taking her statement in. It settled in my chest, flooring me. Of course, that was it. Closure. I’d never fully got it.
The pressure released from my heart and a smile pulled on my lips. “I think I’ve just the plan.”
Samira smiled brightly. “Good, child, good. Are you going to tell him you love him?”
“No.” I shook my head, and then announced, “I’m going to sleep with him.”
My mother laughed so hard that wine sprayed from her mouth across the white chaise. Samira tossed her rag behind her, muttering something as she left the room.
Leaving my mother’s house, I felt much better about my plan, but the problem was: I wasn’t sure how to go about it.
Honestly, it was a little questionable this would give me the closure I needed. But I knew it would probably take me years to find another man I wanted to sleep with, and I didn’t want to wait that long. The only one in the vicinity was leaving tonight. What choice did I really have?
I knew that I would be straightforward with what I wanted. But some unease worried its way into my brain. What if he refused me? I chewed my lip while that possibility filled my mind. If I didn’t try, though, I knew I would regret it. For some reason, he was the one I wanted to be with first, and no other man would do. And besides, this gave me an excuse to see him once more.
The streets were filled with people, shoulder to shoulder, as they picked through the new shipment of strawberries, mangoes, and bananas that just came in.