Jenn's POV
The next morning, the weight in my chest had grown heavier. I couldn't keep running from the truth. Andres had already told his family—he had done his part. It was time for me to do mine.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my phone for what felt like hours. Jas walked in with a towel around her head, fresh from the shower. She stopped when she saw my face.
"You're going to do it?" she asked gently.
I nodded.
"You want me to stay?" she offered.
"No… I think I need to do this alone."
With a deep breath, I dialed Mumma's number. The dial tone rang longer than usual before I heard her soft, familiar voice.
"Hello, Jenn?"
"Mumma…" My voice cracked already. "Can we talk for a minute?"
"Of course, what's wrong?"
I didn't know how to start, so I let my heart do the talking.
"There's someone here… someone I've met. His name is Andres."
There was silence on the other end.
"He's kind, respectful, and Mumma… he makes me feel safe. Like he sees me for exactly who I am."
Her voice came slowly. "Is he…?"
"Yes, Mumma," I said, already knowing what she was trying to ask. "He's not from our culture. He's Christian, from here. But he loves me."
A pause. Then came the question that hit the hardest.
"And do you love him, Jenn?"
I closed my eyes, tears forming. "More than I thought I ever could. I never believed in soulmates until now."
Her sigh came soft, layered with emotions. "Jenn, you know how hard this road can be. People talk. Families…"
"I know, Mumma," I whispered. "But I also know that love like this doesn't come twice. And he's ready to fight for me. I just need to know you'll still be with me too."
There was a long pause—long enough that I thought the call had dropped. But then she said something I didn't expect.
"If he truly loves you the way you describe… and if he's willing to respect your roots and your faith… then I will try my best to understand him too."
Tears rolled down my cheeks. "Mumma…"
"I just want you to be happy, my girl, And loved, the way you deserve."
I thanked her over and over again before hanging up. My heart felt lighter, but the tears wouldn't stop.
Andres called just then.
"Hey, my star," he said, his voice filled with sunshine. "You okay?"
I nodded, even though he couldn't see. "I told my mom."
A pause. "And?"
"She didn't say yes… but she didn't say no either. She said she'd try."
"That's more than I hoped for," he said, relief in his voice. "That's the beginning."
He was right. It was the beginning.
Later that night, we met under the old oak tree in the park where he had first brought me coffee. As soon as he saw me, he opened his arms, and I ran into them.
"No more hiding," I whispered against his chest.
"No more running," he replied, kissing the top of my head.
We sat under the stars for hours, talking about our future—not in dreams this time, but in plans.
If love is a war, then this was our first victory.
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