Jasmine’s POV
A few days have passed, and I’ve yet to receive a message from Mikiah, not that I’m looking forward to it. It’s the thought of it happening on any random day and catching me off guard that makes my stomach churn.
My phone’s ringtone breaks me out of thought. “Hello?” I absentmindedly answer, not having checked the caller ID, pressing the phone against my shoulder as I continue cleaning the bookshelf. The faint scent of the cleaning spray permeates the air.
“Jasmine.”
“Oh, hi, Mom.” I withdraw the phone from my ear, sneaking a glance at the screen.
I rack my brain, wondering if there is something she could be calling about that I’ve forgotten.
“How are you?” She asks, her voice calm but detached.
“I’m fine, and you?” I respond, as I take a step back to inspect that there’s no dust lurking anywhere—satisfied with the results, I give the call my full attention.
“I’m calling to inform you that Mikiah will be coming over in about three to four hours. There’s a document that I need you to give him.”
My jaw drops. That doesn’t make sense. Mikiah? Wait, he’s in the city? Since when?
A stab hits the side of my stomach, which I press down, hoping to relieve it.
“Hello? Jasmine?”
“Uhm, yes. Okay, will do.”
“Do you know which document?”
“Oh yes, which document?”
She lets out a sigh, disappointment lingering.
My ears get hot, and I tug my braid behind my ear as I adjust myself on the chair.
“I’ll send you the information. Don’t want you messing up—we can’t afford to lose this deal.”
“Deal?”
“Yes, deal, Jasmine. Have you forgotten about the project we have with the Nelson group?”
“But, I thought it was put aside for now?” My expression tightens slightly.
“Well, clearly not anymore.”
I stifle the anger that arises. Since when am I not informed about such changes?
“You didn’t mention it.” The snarky remark comes out before I can process it.
“Oh. Well, now you know. I’ll send you more details regarding it.”
“Either way, why is Mikiah coming to fetch it? He isn’t even part of it.” I say, knowing how much my mom detests having to share documents, especially important ones, with those who aren’t directly involved.
“His brother isn’t able to take it. So, he sent him.”
I hum in acknowledgement.
Gosh, so now I have to face him—it’s no longer a message or phone call that I need to worry about.
“Okay, so I have sent an email that summarises what the document entails, so you don’t mix them up. Also, just sent the documents regarding the progression of the project. Note, nothing has been finalised.”
She informs me, just as I receive alerts of the attachments.
“Why does it feel like I’m out of the loop?”
“Don’t worry. It won’t happen again. Mr Nelson communicated at an unfavourable time, and with it being urgent, we agreed Mikiah would come fetch it.”
“Okay, I understand.”
One thing I made sure to establish from the start was that business and family affairs would remain distinct.
“Ma’am, the partners have arrived.” A voice interrupts, most likely Zoey, Mom’s assistant.
“I’ll get going now. I have another meeting. Bye.” The line cuts.
Was I too harsh?
─ ✦ ❘ ✧ ❘ ✦ ─
I glance at the clock, and two hours and ten minutes have passed. Bringing my arm to my forehead to wipe the sweat that trails down as I hold onto the mop—avoiding contact with the wet gloves.
“Almost done,” I whisper, seeing how there’s only the kitchen left to do.
It doesn’t take much time, and I’m all done. I take a seat on the garden bench, as I breathe in the air, tilting my chin towards the sun, my eyes closing. The warmth of the sun presses softly against my skin. I can’t believe I was just thinking about Mikiah reaching out, and this happens. What an unexpected turn to the day. All I could hope for was that he would go easy on me.
I spend a few more minutes enjoying nature before deciding to check if the floor is all dried up so I can take a shower.
After having cleaned up and gotten myself comfy on the couch, I play a game on my phone. My fingers are moving quickly as I focus on winning my current level.
An unknown number appears on the screen, the code being from a foreign country. I contemplate whether to pick up the call or not.
“Hello?”
“Jasmine…” A husky but softened voice speaks, unable to place the voice, I go quiet, searching my memory. “It’s Mikiah.”
My eyes widen, and I check the number again.
“Hi, how are you?” My words rush out, and I mentally facepalm.
“I’m great, and you?”
“I’m good, thank you.”
“I’m at the gate.”
“Oh—oh… let me allow them to let you in.”
“Thank you.”
A familiar three knocks sound at the door, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Coming!”
Do I offer him to come in and have a drink or just hand him the document?
“Mikiah, Hi,” I say, opening the door after unlocking it with the passcode.
“It’s been a while since we last saw each other.” He offers a handshake, which I accept.
My eyes sweep him over; the change is noticeable. He’s no longer as buff as before—rather, he’s gotten leaner and grown a full beard. I catch him studying me, too. We’ve both changed over time.
“I’m glad to see you.” His gaze softens, his lips lifting slightly. Something about the way he says it makes my chest tighten—I force a smile, unsure how to receive that.
“Umm, come in, or are you in a rush?” I shift my weight to the other foot.
I think it would be harsh not to welcome him, considering how familiar he is with the family.
“Sure, for a short while—don’t want to break Maman Margot’s rules.” He chuckles, raising his hands in surrender.
A breathy laugh escapes me. “You remember, also noticed you still knock the same way.” I lead him to the living room.
He laughs. “I think it has stuck with me, a subconscious thing now.” He shrugs.
Mikiah had a secret knock with my brother. There was a point where Aroni would struggle with dealing with anger, and one of the coping mechanisms he developed was locking himself in the room, sometimes for days. But somehow Mikiah got through to him. To ensure he only opened the door to him—and no one else—he created a certain way of knocking.
“Please have a seat. Would you like a soft drink, water or juice?”
“Juice is fine, thank you.” He takes a seat.
“Will be back shortly.” Taking his nod as confirmation, I make my way to the kitchen. Placing two glasses, mango and litchi juice cartons onto the tray, I carefully head back.
“What can I offer you?” I ask, presenting the options to him.
“The usual is fine, thank you. Litchi.”
I nod my head before serving him and pouring myself half a cup of mango juice.
“I see you still don’t drink much.” His eyes follow me as I take a seat opposite him.
“Yeah, you could say that.” Ever since I was a kid, I had the habit of pouring myself half a glass or less of juice, since I hated the afterthought of wasting it, having noticed it was rare for me to drink a full glass.
He slowly bobs his head, studying me, then takes a sip of his drink.
“So, how has life been?” I lean slightly forward, unsure of how to get the conversation started.
“It’s been good, busier than I had expected, but can’t complain.”
“Hmmm, that’s good.”
“And you?” He holds my gaze, my attention drifts, then snaps back too quickly.
“It’s been well. Are you still living alone there…?” I add, referring to how he had previously mentioned before leaving that he was going to be far from family, which he wasn’t too comfortable about.
“Yes, but my siblings do visit sometimes. I would say within a year, one or two travel to see me. Which is more than most people get, considering there are some who go for years without seeing one another.” He pauses, “But also having a company that collaborates with the family’s business does play a role.”
“That’s good to hear. Being away from family, let alone having to find your footing in a foreign country, isn’t always the easiest.” I think about my siblings, who live far from me and one another.
“For sure. Aroni doesn’t fail to mention how he misses you guys, although don’t tell him I said so.” He lets out a light chuckle.
I laugh, more than I should, but it’s good to hear of such, knowing how Angele usually has to fight to get a simple I miss you from him. Although, honestly, I’m no better.
“Are you back for good?”
“Ah, no, just had a few things to do.” His eyes intensely lock with mine; there’s something in his eyes I can’t quite read, as if he’s trying to send me a message.
“Oh, okay… You must like it there, I’ve heard it’s a great place to live. Makes sense to stay there.” My body goes awkwardly still.
“Yeah, but the heart must be there to want to remain there.” He says, seeming deep in thought for a second before offering half a smile.
I take a sip of juice, observing him before looking away briefly. “Hmmm.” I nod, though I’m not sure why his words linger; I stop myself from thinking if there was an underlying message in it.
“Well, I’ll need to get going. Thank you for the welcome.” He drinks up the last of what was left.
“It’s a pleasure. Let me bring the document.” I gesture toward the flower table, where I had placed the document.
He nods, and I make my way to it, trying not to hasten my steps. But that went smoother than expected. Though, not exactly sure what I expected in the first place.
“I’ll make sure to safely deliver it, don’t want y’all having my head.” He jokes, taking the light blue A4 envelope from my outstretched hand.
“You better,” I add on, placing my hands on my hips as I slightly tilt my head.
A light laugh escapes us, and a brief silence takes over as we look at one another.
“I—” He starts before deciding otherwise. “I’ll see you then?” His eyes smile down at me.
“Umm, yeah.” My lips quiver into a weak smile.
The conversation stalls—the air feels heavier, though nothing has changed. Eventually, he gives a nod before making his exit. Shutting the door, my arm rests against it as I rest my forehead on it—my breathing uneven.
“Thank you, Jesus.” The prayer is a mere whisper, but speaks a thousand words.
I stay against the door longer than I need to, wondering why my hands feel colder than before. I’m far from prepared for whatever that could’ve turned into. And it doesn’t help that it feels unfinished. I push the thought away before it settles too deeply.
“Let’s leave tomorrow’s worries for tomorrow,” I whisper, tiredly walking to my room.
─ ✦ ❘ ✧ ❘ ✦ ─
Nicodème’s POV
I thought I had made peace with how things ended with Perel… but seeing her in front of me again resurfaced emotions I would find hard to put to words.
━━━━━━━♡❘★❘♡━━━━━━━
© 2026 Emmanuelle Ngoie. All rights reserved. The Crying Girl is an original work. No part of this work may be copied, reproduced, or distributed without permission.
