I'm Sorry.....What?

408 19 8
                                        


Gigi Pov

" I'll take your man." I sang as i made dinner. I looked down to see my dog chuchi

  standin’ on her hind legs, bouncin’ like she was twerkin’

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

  standin’ on her hind legs, bouncin’ like she was twerkin’.
"Yes, baby, get it, mama!" I laughed, pointing the spoon at her like she was the opening act on 106 & Park. She was my little spirit twin. Extra, dramatic, and spoiled.

"Gabriel!"
Here come my grandma.

"Yes ma’am!" I called back as she came through the front door, lookin’ tired as hell. Wig tilted a little, but she still had that “don’t try me” energy in her walk.
"Can you please go scrape that half-dead heffa off the porch?" she said, waving her hand. "One of her lil’ club buddies must’ve turned lover boy and got a little too friendly with her face." She rolled her eyes and snatched the spatula out my hand like she paid for it.
"I’ll finish up here," she added, already taking over the stove.

I sighed. "Yes ma’am."

It had become damn near routine. My mama would disappear for two or three days, rollin’ with some dude she met in a club bathroom, and end up lookin’ like she got jumped by karma. You’d think—by how she act—she came from the gutter, but nope.

She had a good life.
Two-parent home. Honor roll student. Was all set to go to Spelman for law.

So what happened?

Me.
I happened.

---

I opened the screen door, and there she was—sprawled out on the porch like she just lost a fight with gravity. Skirt hiked up, lacefront slid to the side, showin’ all her blessings to the neighborhood.

"Momma, come on. Let’s get you in the bed," I said gently, tryin’ to help her up.
"Get your hands off me, you fuckin’ sissy," she slurred, snatchin’ away.

I clenched my jaw.
"Momma, don’t play with me. If Granny come back out here with that cane, you really gon’ be hurt."

She always did that. The second she got sloppy drunk, she got mean—and her go-to ammo was always me bein’ gay. Started when I was twelve. “Sissy,” “Fruit loop,” all her favorites. Said I was gonna be bendin’ over for boys one day.

She wasn’t wrong…
But maybe if she paid attention back when it mattered—maybe she could’ve helped me figure out who I was instead of making me feel like a curse.

I finally wrestled her in the house and threw her on my bed where she passed out, snorin' like a broken engine. I shut the door behind me, let out a breath, and stepped back outside just in time to see him.

💕Your worth loving💕 A twisted paradize. Amiyah scott and Chris Brown story BxbWhere stories live. Discover now