Page 39 of Certified Pressure 3
“Of course,” I said quickly.
Her voice stayed calm. “Do you know that my son is expecting a child with another woman?”
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. I didn’t expect her to bring that up, not like this. My throat went dry, and I had to force myself to answer. “Yes, ma’am,” I said. “I’m aware.”
She nodded once, her expression unreadable. “Then I must ask you, how do you plan to move forward with him knowing that? Have you truly thought about what that means for your future?”
Her words hit harder than I wanted them to. I felt my body tense, but I kept my tone soft. “I’ve thought about it,” I said carefully. “And I plan on moving forward with Pressure. The baby situation came after he proposed to me.”
She raised her brows slightly. “I see. That makes things complicated.”
Her tone stayed gentle, but there was a sharpness underneath it that made me feel small.
“Our family lives by certain values,” she continued. “The men in this bloodline typically marry the women who bear their children. It is the way things have always been done.”
I felt heat rise in my chest, but I refused to let it show on my face. “I understand that, Mrs. Mensah, but Pressure made his choice. He asked me to marry him, and I said yes. I can’t undothat or control what happened before that. I don’t feel as though I should suffer because of his decisions.”
Her gaze didn’t waver. “You are right. You shouldn’t have to suffer because of his decisions.”
The way she said it made my stomach twist. She wasn’t agreeing with me. She was reminding me that I didn’t have to suffer but that I was choosing to by staying.
I swallowed hard. There were so many things I wanted to say, but I couldn’t, so I smiled and nodded politely like nothing was wrong.
She sat back, her tone still smooth. “I just want what’s best for my son. I want him to live peacefully, not in chaos. I respect that he loves you, but love is not always enough to protect a family’s order. When you marry into this name, you marry into everything it carries.”
I nodded slowly. “I understand.”
Inside, I felt humiliated. I wanted to defend myself, to tell her that her son wasn’t perfect and that I was the one trying to make things right… but I kept it to myself. The woman in front of me wasn’t one to argue with. She was powerful in a way that didn’t need to be loud.
Before I could think of anything else to say, I heard footsteps again. Pressure came back into the room with a bottle of water and sat down beside me. He glanced between us, sensing the tension, but didn’t say a word.
“Ma,” he said finally, “you talked to Pops yet?”
“He’s still in meetings,” she said, turning her attention to him. “We have family events coming up soon, and I expect you to attend.
Pressure nodded. “We’ll be there.”
They started talking about family things, but my mind was elsewhere. I sat there quietly, trying to smile when appropriate, but my thoughts were spinning. I felt invisible… I felt dismissed.
By the time we stood to leave, I was ready to cry but refused to let a tear fall. I smiled politely and thanked her for having us, but I knew that smile didn’t reach my eyes either.
As we walked out toward the car, Pressure reached for my hand. I took it because I didn’t want him to notice how shaken I was. He didn’t say much, and neither did I.
On the outside, I looked calm, but inside, I was burning.
Abeni didn’t have to raise her voice to let me know exactly how she felt. She made that shit very clear without saying much at all.
Even though I kept my composure, I knew that from this point on, things between us would never be the same.
On the way back home, I tried so damn hard to remain composed but I couldn’t stop replaying Abeni’s words in my head. Every single one of them felt like they were echoing off the walls of my mind. I was sitting in the passenger seat quiet, looking out the window, trying to keep my cool but my chest felt like it was on fire. I didn’t even realize how tight I was holding my purse until my hand started hurting. I was mad as hell, but more than that, I felt humiliated. I couldn’t shake the way she looked at me, talking to me like I was some outsider who didn’t belong in her son’s life.
Pressure had the music low and his hand resting on the wheel while looking too damn calm for what just went down. I watched him from the side of my eye, wondering how he could be so unbothered after what his mama just said to me. He finally glanced over.
“You good?” he asked. His voice was too damn calm for my liking.
I didn’t answer at first. I just kept looking out the window like I didn’t hear him.
“Kash,” he said, this time looking right at me. “What’s wrong with you? You been quiet since we left.”
