Page 8 of Love's Free Will

“Oh, Elias, that’s wonderful,” my mother gushed. “A stable, committed relationship before making life decisions? That’s how it should be.”

My teeth clenched. Because I knew it was coming; the setup.

And just like clockwork, Candace turned to me with fake innocence. “What about you, Averi?” she asked, batting her lashes. “When are you settling down?”

I knew it.

I put down my fork, staring at her like she had lost her damn mind. “Excuse me?”

“Well,” Candace continued, “you’re almost thirty, you’ve had your fun, don’t you think it’s time to get serious about your future?”

Oh, this bitch was bold. Elias visibly winced, and even my father glanced at Candace like she was pushing it. But Allison? She leaned in.

“She has a point, Averi.”

Oh, now they tag-teaming me? I took a slow sip of my wine, willing myself not to curse in my parents’ house.

“Let me get this straight,” I said coolly, setting my glass down. “Y’all think because Candace popped out a pregnancy announcement and Elias is playing house, that I’m somehow behind?”

My mother sighed dramatically. “Averi?—”

“No, let’s talk about it.” I interrupted, sitting back. “Because every time I come home, it’s the same tired ass conversation. ‘Averi, when are you getting serious?’ ‘Averi, when are you settling down?’ But God forbid I bring up my actual success.”

Candace scoffed. “Oh my God, we get it, you’re a big-time Hollywood girl with a grammy, blah, blah, blah.”

“Three Grammys, actually.” I shot back. “How many you got?” Her mouth snapped shut. I turned to my mother. “Mama, did you ever think that maybe I’m happy?”

She tilted her head, a soft but judgmental look on her face. “Are you though Averi? How can you be happy with no man in your life?”

“Because I don’t need no man to make me feel complete, unlike some people.” My gaze shot between her and Candace before I stood up. “Y’all enjoy your dinner,” I said, grabbing my bag. “I’m going back to my hotel.” And with that, I walked out the house without another word.

Later in the day, I laid on the king-sized bed, staring at the ceiling, venting on FaceTime with Egypt.

“Girl, I told you not to let them get under your skin,” she said, shaking her head.

I sighed. “I know. But they just—ugh. It’s like nothing I do is ever enough for them.”

Egypt stretched, adjusting her camera. “Yeah, well, fuck ‘em. You doing good as hell, Ave. We some successful ass boss bitchesand if yo’ bougie ass mama and sister can’t accept that then they can go to hell.”

I smirked. “Thanks, babe.”

She squinted at me. “So… what’s up with this meeting with Royal?”

I groaned. “I knew you were gonna ask.”

Egypt smirked. “I mean… I am your best friend.”

I exhaled, rolling onto my stomach. “I’m supposed to meet with Logan and Royal tomorrow at Grindhouse. But honestly? I’m still on the fence.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like headaches, and from what I’ve heard? That nigga is one big ass migraine.”

Egypt laughed. “Well, keep an open mind, Ave. You might actually fuck with his vibe.”

“Yeah, I doubt it.”

The next day,I stepped into Grindhouse Studios, the air thick with the scent of loud, cologne, and ego. Logan led me toward Studio C, and before we even walked in, I could hear the bass thrumming through the walls. The second we stepped inside, my ears immediately honed in on the track playing through the speakers.

---