Zenia's POV

　　I had finally graduated from college. The journey was an unforgettable one. It was like holding in an enormous piece of shit, which had made you constipated since the ending of high school. Finally, I was free from the assignments, projects, examinations, lectures, rules, running to classes, making schedules, and everything else that came along with being in college.

　　Mom and Jasmine were so thrilled when I walked down that aisle and received my diploma. I was thrilled for myself as well. My cheeks ached for the rest of that day, I was smiling so hard.

　　Now, I was on the verge of officially creating and launching my very first clothing line, which was about to be published in one of top magazines in the city. Bliss.

　　Other clothing was also being sold at my boutique, which was generously given to me by my sister's boyfriend. He made that promise to me, and he did kept it.

　　"ZENIA!" 

　　I heard my name being yelled out. It echoed throughout the huge penthouse. 

　　I placed my digital notepad underneath my pillow and rolled out of bed.

　　"Hey." I leaned against the wall in the living room as my sister settled down on the couch with her son.

　　"Hey. So, how are you?"

　　"I'm good." I walked over and took my nephew into my arms and planted a big kiss on both sides of his cheeks. He was such a handsome little guy with the cutest smile; he had dimples. I always looked forward to seeing his laughter and smiles.

　　"How is Aunty's baby?" I asked in a playful, baby voice. 

　　He gave me a smile and buried his face in the crook of my neck shyly.

　　"So, I have a project for you," Jasmine began.

　　"What project?" I asked, taking a seat next to her.

　　"A big one." She threw on a bight smile.

　　"How big?"

　　"Very big."

　　"Come on, Jasmine, stop beating around the bush here. You know I'm a very busy woman."

　　"I need you to make a dress for me."

　　I scoffed. A dress?  That's what she was going on about? A dress?

　　"A dress Jasmine? Like, really?" I spoke my mind.

　　"You were supposed to ask me what kind of dress."

　　I rolled my eyes at her, but I had her to thank for everything. I never would have even gotten to the stage of entering and finishing college if it wasn't for my sister.

　　You see, we grew up without a father and, before I finished high school, Mom got very ill with a lung condition. It had gotten so bad that she was frequently admitted to the hospital. Jasmine was the one who worked her butt off to put meals on the table, clothes on my back, pay all the bills and put me through college so I could accomplish my dreams.

　　I couldn't have asked for a better big sister. I loved her. And she supported my business since the the beginning. She always purchased clothing, even though I told her I could give it to her for absolutely nothing. But she would just tell me, "Some of the best things don't come freely."

　　"What kind of dress?" I asked as I tickled my nephew to make him laugh.

　　"A WEDDING DRESS!" she squealed, and her squealing caught me by surprise.

　　"A what now?" My smile reached my eyes.

　　Is she saying what I think she's saying?

　　She flashed a huge diamond ring on her engagement finger, and I began squealing with happiness too.

　　"He popped the question? You are engaged?" I wiped the happy tears away. 

　　I was so happy for her. She deserved every bit of happiness on this earth with the man she truly loved. They had been torn apart for over a year, but they still found love for each other again, as if a separation never happened.

　　"Congratulations, sis." I pulled her in for a hug.

　　"Con-sssition." Jevan repeated in his way of saying congratulations.

　　We shared a small laugh. He was already learning words.

　　"Thank you, baby," His mother said to him as she playfully pulled his puffy cheeks.

　　Her phone rang and she answered it.

　　"Zen, do you mind watching Jevan for an hour or so for me? I'm going down to HT to drop something off for his father," she explained as she got off the phone.

　　"Sure. Not a problem."

　　It was Saturday, and I had decided to take a day off from the boutique and let my assistant, who also happened to be my best friend, run the store. I needed to catch up on some designs I had to sent to a client of mine.

　　"Thank you." She got up and walked to the door. "And, please, be careful with your language around him!"

　　We waved bye-bye to her.

　　I took Jevan back to my room, laid him down on my bed and went back to my digital notepad, where I created and stored all my designs.

　　As I browsed through, and tried to keep an eye out for Jevan as well, I accidentally deleted a design I had to get started on tomorrow.

　　"OH FUCK!" I cursed aloud.

　　"Fuck! Fuck!" My nephew began to repeat what I just said.

　　"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, Jevan. Please, don't repeat that. Your mother would kill me if she heard you saying that."

　　"Kill me. Kill me." He repeated another phrase he shouldn't.

　　I searched my brain to come up with something that would erase those words from his vocabulary.

　　"Let's count." I drew myself closer to him.

　　"One."

　　"On."

　　"Two."

　　"Toe."

　　"Three."

　　"Free."

　　We counted from one to three over and over, and I sang him nursery rhymes. 

　　That ought to take his tiny mind off the words he shouldn't have heard.

　　__________________________________

　　Jasmine's POV

　　I had gathered my small family around the dinner table. Jevan was placed in his baby stool between our chairs. I took the pleasure of cooking dinner, although we had chefs to do so.

　　I fed Jevan his sweet potato tots while I ate from my plate as well. A conversation started between Evan and me, and we were so caught up in it, Jevan's hand accidentally knocked over his container of fruit when he attempted to feed himself.

　　"Oh fuck. Kill me," he blurted out.

　　My and Evan's eyes popped open, and we turned at the small figure sitting between us.

　　"Did he just said what I think he just said?" his father asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

　　I nodded.

　　Evan threw back his head and started laughing, but it wasn't funny to me.

　　Jevan was learning words, and I always told everyone to watch what they were saying around him. It was very odd that he liked repeating only foul language from a complete statement.

　　On one occasion, I was on the phone with Zenia. She was telling me something very funny, and I absentmindedly called her an asshole. Jevan began repeating the word asshole, but I quickly scolded him and he stopped saying it.

　　When Evan got home that evening, Jevan was sitting in the living room putting together a Lego block castle. He had been doing that the entire evening while I was watching television.

　　Evan came over to greet and kiss me, as he usually did. His foot accidentally knocked over Jevan's castle.

　　"Sorry, son," he apologized.

　　"Asshole," Jevan responded.