Chase Me

6.

"You're finally home."

As soon as I set foot in the mansion, my mom pounced on me, enveloping me in a tight embrace. Her familiar scent instantly made me feel like I was home.

"Mom," I managed to squeeze out, trying to catch my breath as I gently pushed her away. "How have you been?"

She released her grip on me and gave me a warm smile. "I've been doing well. You look so different from the last time I saw you. When was that again?"

I bit my lip, avoiding her gaze. It had been a long time since I had visited. "Last Christmas?"

"Has it been that long?!" Mom exclaimed, her eyes widening. "You haven't been to New York since last Christmas? No wonder you've changed so much. I didn't realize how much time had passed."

"Yeah, I didn't either. I've been consumed with work and everything."

Just then, my dad emerged from the kitchen wearing a blue apron, which he had on backwards. I struggled to keep a straight face. "Amari, you've finally found your way back home," he said, placing his hands on his hips and tilting his head at me.

"I'm sorry. I've been so busy with the company. I don't even have time for myself," I confessed honestly.

"I can see that," Dad remarked, eyeing me up and down with a disapproving look. "You've gained weight, but don't worry, I still love you."

I stared at him in disbelief, while Angelica snickered behind me. I had forgotten she was there with me. Before I could say anything, I heard footsteps approaching from the living room.

"That's why she rarely visits New York," Milan's voice echoed through the foyer as he walked toward me. "You're all roasting her."

"Roasting?" Mom asked, looking confused as she stared at Milan. "We're not cooking her."

Angelica burst into laughter. "Oh my god, this is hilarious," she snorted, trying to muffle her laughter like a seal.

Milan patted Mom's back and kissed her forehead. "What I meant by 'roasting' was mocking, Mom."

He then looked up at me, flashing his signature dazzling smile that I had seen on TV whenever he scored a goal. "Hey, lil sis."

"Hey, Millie Billie. Where's Yas?" I walked over to Milan and hugged him. His bare torso pressed against me, and I couldn't help but notice his abs-the ones girls from all around the world drooled over.

"She went out to get groceries. She'll be back soon," he told me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Wow, you look so different since the last time I saw you."

"Shut up." I playfully slapped his chest. I couldn't say the same about him since he was everywhere-on social media, in sport stores, and magazines. He was the football star, the king.

When I went to buy sports shoes at Nike, I saw his picture inside the store. I must have stared at it for a while before the store manager, a friend of mine, approached and asked if I knew the soccer player in the picture. I couldn't help but proudly answer, "That's my brother."

"It's true, right, Dad?" Milan snapped me out of my thoughts, his eyes fixed on Dad, who still couldn't believe I was standing in front of him. "You look more mature," Milan said, turning his attention back to me.