Don't take it Personal

Unexpected News & Decisions

Stephanie's POV

The previous night had its ups and downs. Trey and I had some fun salsa dancing, indulged in good food and drinks, but tears were shed. Despite it all, it ended on a positive note. I arrived home around midnight, took a quick shower, and drifted into slumber. Now, it's Saturday morning, and the enticing aroma of ackee and saltfish, along with fried breadfruit, woke me up, setting my stomach in motion. After a hasty bath and teeth-brushing session, I made my way to the kitchen where Blacks was and Cindy was enjoying their breakfast.

"Good morning," I greeted them, receiving a harmonious "morning" in response. Blacks handed me a plate of food and a cup of peppermint tea, for which I thanked him. I joined Cindy in the dining room and set my food on the table.

"How are you this morning?" Cindy inquired.

"I'm okay; I had fun last night," I replied. Blacks joined in with some humorous banter. Just then, a text notification from Miller appeared: "Stephanie, I am truly sorry and hope you can forgive us. Shelly is pregnant, and we want you to be the godmother."

I laughed, which swiftly turned into tears. I abruptly left the table, heading to my room. Blacks knocked at the door, sat on the edge of my bed, and asked what was wrong. I handed him the phone to read the message. "This guy is something else," he remarked. I voiced my frustration, asking why this was happening to me. "God doesn't give us more than we can bear, Steph; this too shall pass," he consoled me, gently rubbing my hair before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

As I sat on the bed, I gathered my thoughts, determined not to cry any longer. I began searching classified ads for available apartments to rent. As much as I cherished Blacks and Cynthia, I needed my own space. I didn't want to be a burden, especially now that they were expecting, and it pained me to witness their happiness. Another text from Miller arrived: "Please respond and let me know you are okay also." I scoffed and resumed my search for rental options.

Tomorrow held the promise of exploration, and I had already unearthed two intriguing destinations on my agenda. With a calculating eye, I reviewed my savings, a sum of four hundred American dollars that had recently adorned my financial landscape. Anticipating the conversion to Jamaican dollars, it dawned on me that this amount would barely sustain my needs for a month.

Resolving to plan my day meticulously, I retrieved my trusty journal, its pages ready to receive my thoughts. Just as I began the process of jotting down my priorities, a message from Trey disrupted my solitude. His proposition, a journey to Mandeville, caught me by surprise. It had been years since I last laid eyes on his mother, a compelling reason to accept his invitation. My affirmative response was swift, and I embarked on preparations, aware of our imminent departure within the hour.

Dressing with purpose, I chose my Fashion Nova black jeans, their embrace flattering my waistline, and paired them with a light blue polo shirt. Completing the ensemble were my blue Divani slippers. A dash of fragrance, a fusion of Victoria's Secret Pink and Beyoncé Heat cologne, added an appealing allure. I applied lip gloss with precision and bundled my hair into an artful, messy bun. My black Michael Kors purse accompanied me to the living room, where I informed Blacks of my intended whereabouts, earning a tacit nod of understanding.

Trey's timely call announced his arrival, and I made my exit. His Black Toyota Tundra awaited, a reliable vessel for our forthcoming journey. Upon entry, I was greeted by the delightful scent of vanilla that emanated from Trey. "Great minds think alike," he quipped, drawing attention to our coincidentally matching attire. Our first pit stop took us to a gas station, where Trey inquired about my needs. A simple request for water garnered approval, and he returned bearing a bounty of snacks, pastries, juice, and water, which he kindly placed in my lap. With a knowing smile, he remarked, "You and I both know you'll be hungry soon." A shared chuckle was our response as we resumed our course.

Enveloped in the comfort of Trey's Black Toyota Tundra, we cruised down the road, serenaded by the melodies of a carefully curated Masicka playlist. The contrast of the refreshing air conditioning against the sweltering outdoor heat was a welcome indulgence. Amidst the soothing ambiance, my thoughts meandered towards contemplation of the past. It became evident that my tears, though they had fallen for Miller, were more an expression of grief for what might have been rather than a testament of undying love. As we neared the toll booth, Trey's hand found mine, and a mutual smile graced our faces. In that moment, I was reminded of my good fortune in having a friend like Trey by my side. True friends, I mused, are a rare treasure, steadfast companions on the unpredictable journey of life.