THEIR BROKEN MATE

CHAPTER ONE -SAMILA

"Wake up, honey. We don't want to be late again," I tried to coax Pilar out of bed. "A few more minutes, please, mama," she said as she tried to pull her blanket over her head. "No, we talked about this. No late-night sugar, no late-night movies, simply no late-night anything on school nights," I said as my best friend, Lea, walked into my daughter's room.

"Aunt Lea, please tell mama to let me sleep for a few more minutes?"

"Please give her a break, Sam. It was my fault, and I take full responsibility for keeping her up late when I was supposed to be the responsible adult," she said as she joined me on the bed. Lea and I have been living together since my nasty divorce and near-death experience four years ago. We moved to Seattle a few months ago and moved in together. My waitressing job hasn't been paying well, and working three jobs was kind of the only way we could afford living here if I wasn't getting the kind of support I get from Lea.

She is more than just my best friend, more like a sister. She was there during my recovery period, there for me even when I had cut her off when I got married to Derrick. She had never liked him and tried to warn me, but nineteen and naive was not a good combination because I thought she was just jealous. She tried to stop me from dropping out of college, but I was caught up in the 'I am so in love I wanna marry this guy' phase and didn't see the red flags.

"Yes, it's all Aunt Lea's fault," Pilar said with a hand over her face, pulling me from my thoughts, which were treading dangerous territory. Thank God he was locked up for life.

Lea laughed at my daughter's statement. "Now I get to take all the blame for that?" Lea said with a glint in her eyes.

"Yes, mama, it's all Aunty Lea's fault," she said with a laugh.

"No, it's both your faults. I told you to be in bed by eight, and you were still up by the time I got back at ten. And as for you, Lea, you were supposed to be the adult and make sure she kept her bed. To top it all, you gave her ice cream at the absolute time she was supposed to be in bed," I scolded them.

"Sorry, mum."

"Sorry, Sam."

They said at the same time. "It's okay, Lea. Thanks for always being there for us," I whispered to her as she stood to leave. "Love you," she said as she went to get ready for her corporate job, one that I am grateful for that got me the new job that pays way better than being a waitress.

"Now, young lady, it's time to get ready. I'm not gonna promise you can sleep in the car because your new school is not that far anymore. But you can have a nap after school, how's that?" I said.

"Okay, mum. Can I wear my pink dress to school today?" she asked.

"Yes, baby, you can wear your pink dress to school, and Aunty Lea will pick you up from school because mom is starting her new job today," I told her as she sat up.

"Are you going to be home for dinner, mama? I miss spending time with you."

"Yes, I will be home early, and mommy is going to be around more because my new job pays better and gives me more time," my last job made sure I was working most of the time and rarely had time to spend with my daughter. I am grateful to Lea for being there to help raise Pilar because I don't think my salary would have been enough to pay for rent, food, and a babysitter.

"Okay," Pilar said enthusiastically as she hugged me and got out of bed. "Can you help me get ready, mum?" she asked as she headed to the door.

"Of course, what kind of mother would let her baby dress herself even if she is perfectly capable?" I teased her, knowing she hated it when I called her a baby.

"Mum, I am not a baby; I am almost six," she said with a serious face that didn't belong to a six-year-old or any child at that. Sometimes I am proud of how fast my baby is growing, but sometimes I worry about that same thing. She takes conversations like a pro; sometimes I forget she is only six. With how much I work, she has never been trouble to me and rarely ever got sick. She likes dressing herself; sometimes I think she forgets she is supposed to act like every other child, playing with dolls, numbers, and cartoons. But she is always, on the contrary, always wise beyond her years, and sometimes it worries me.

She was never a stubborn child; even now, she was young, she has always been an angel. She was my strength, even when I thought the pressure around her was going to make her break down. Always my strength, even when I am the one that is meant to be the adult.

I have never cried in front of her. Though I still have nightmares of what happened to me, I made sure we sleep in separate rooms to avoid her ever getting affected or being woken by my restlessness. But somehow she always knew when something was not okay with me.

She may not remember what happened because she was only one and a half when her dad and I divorced, and he was locked up for life, but sometimes I think the trauma of my failed abusive marriage kind of affected her.

Now with my new job, I can be near home and be around more. They pay well and have better working hours, and I can give her the life she deserves.

"Mom!" she called out from the bathroom.

"Coming," I said as I got up to join her. Knowing things were going to be better, this was a new beginning for us.