Chapter b79/b: La bPOV /b

    The silence in the kitchen is deafening as bI /bwatch my mom rasually stand before me bas /bif she didn’t just fight a referred to as our rtionship

    The dainty teacup in my hand suddenly feels ten times heavier, and I force myself to gently ce it on themter bbefore /bthe lo heart is breaking at that moment. Because we’ve had this discussion, and I made it perfectly clear to her where I stood

    You mixed meeting your future fiancést night

    The sentence repeats in my head on a loop that rivals the best loop–de–loop rollercoaster at the local fairground. Her tone is casual and lightly like she’s reprimanding me for ban /bappointment I had forgotten to write down in my nner.

    Moira stills on the other side of the counter, and the warmth in her expression from our earlier amusing conversation flickers out like a candle in open window

    Xavier’s chair next to me creaks, and for one second 1 silently hope he gets up and tosses her out on her ass. But that’s not me. I don’t let other people t my battles for me.

    My eyes slide to my mother’s. In my moment of stunned silence, she’s moved to the fridge and is now pouring herself a ss of cucumber–infused, filtered water. Of icourse/i, that’s what she would drink, and of course, she’d demand it always be avable to her. Most likely, in her eyes, only plebs would drink something as ordinary as bottled water.

    “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice calm and t, “Did you just say I missed meeting my future fiancéi?/ii” /i

    She hums like she’s answering a trivia question, not like she’s dropping a nuclear bomb on my life. “Well, he’s not officially your fiancé yet. But Michael and I think it would be a smart match. His father’s in corporatew. bHe’s /bstudying finance. You two would make…”

    “…a good merger,” I finish for her, bnot /bcaring that I interrupted her. “Just say it.”

    Her lips purse, making her look like those ‘duck bface/bb‘ /bmemes on the inte, “You don’t need to be dramatic, La.”

    “No. You’re right,” I sayb, /bpushing back my chair and slowly rising to my full height. “I’m beingpletely unreasonable. How dare I have expectations about choosing who bI /bspend my life withb?/bb” /b

    “Sit down,” she snaps, her bvoice /bsharp for the first time in front of other people. It seems the fa?ade of the perfect mother she’s curated is slipping from her manicured bgrasp/b.

    For the first time in my entire life, I disobey her and don’t sit down again. Instead, I step around the corner of the counter and stop about three feet from her. I don’t trust her not to bget /bphysical with me againb, /bso leaving the gap between us bgives /bme ba /bchance to back away if she decides to lunge forwardb. /b

    “You do this every time,” bI /bsay, “You spin your web of maniption and control, and when I pull away, I’m ‘dramatic‘, ‘ungrateful“, or even ‘emotional“. But this? This bisn’t /bparenting. This is iownership/ib./b”

    Xavier still hasn’t moved. bHe’s /bwatching me with that unreadable expression bI /bused to hate. Now though? Now it feels like his supportive silence might just be what I need to get through this blife/bb–/bchanging bconversation/b.

    Moira shifts closer to me, and her handes to rest near mine on the kitchen ind’s edge. It’s her way of showing her support without being intrusive, which means more to me than I can ever expressb. /b

    My mother scoffs, “You think you have it so hard, Lab? /bbI’ve /bdone everything to give you options.b” /b

    “No,” bI /bbsay/b, bleaning /bforward just slightly, “You’ve done everything to control the oue so it’s in your favor.”

    Her beyes /bnarrow at me as she says, “That’s not true.”

    I smile, but it’s cold and resolute. It’s the only smile bI /bbcan /bmuster as I decide in bthat /bmoment on the direction of my bmother /band my rtionship

    on bout/bb. /b

    b“/bbYou /bblost /bbmy /bcollege fund and bdidn’t /btell me buntil /bI confronted you. You moved us into a stranger’s mansion and called it ‘daing what’s arranged ba /bmarriage blike /bwe’re bin /bbiThe /i/bBachelor: Hostage Editionb. /bbAnd /bbnow /bbyou’re /bbstanding /bhere trying bto /bbtell /bme that none of those bthings /b

    Chapter 79 La POV

    where you were smiling all the way to the bank?” I pine, let my words sink in frater, then dine, b1 /bdon anymore, or your this will be the best thing for your future spiels. As of today, I want you as bfar /baway from e as humanly posible.”

    The silence that follows my words in heavy and pulses around the room like sonic waves

    Maire finally speaks firmly but still respectfully, “Mrs. Reed, I think it might be best if you leave. In any case, you have that salon appartient you fu want to bete for.”

    My mother looks between the three of us. I am standing with my back straight, Moira beside me, acting as my silent supporter, and Xavier bis /bstil his chair, watching this y out, not having moved a muscle and unreadable as bever/b.

    She scoffs again before warning me, “You’ll regret this.”

    “I’ve already regretted everything that led me here,” I say, “This? This is bme /bsaying no more and taking my future back, without you in it”

    She grabs her purse and then walks out like she didn’t bjust /bset fire to whatever morsels remained of our rtionship, with no apology or second look back few secondster, the front door shuts behind her like a final period on a sentence I’m bnever /brereading.

    After two beats, I finally exhale. And only then do I realize I’m shaking, and I hate that she bgot /bso deep under my skin that this is where I’m at right runt

    Moira reaches for my hand, and her skin’s bwarmth /benvelops not just my hand but also my heart and soul as she says, “You did good, sweetheart.”

    “I was just trying not to fall apart,” I whisperb, /bmy head hanging down in equal parts defeat and heartbreak.

    The gentle squeeze she gives my hand causes me to lift my head and lock eyes with hers. “Sometimes they look the bsame/bb./bb” /b

    I nod at her, but speaking is difficult right now as my throat feels raw with unshed tears and emotions I’m afraid to name.

    I turn around and silently walk out the patio doors. The summer air is balmy and quietb, /bprecisely what my soul needs right bnow/bb. /bThe sound of birds chirping and bees buzzing feels oddly normal amid my chaotic thoughts. And I’m not quite sure where I’m supposed to bgo /bfrom bhere/bb. /b

    After walking around the garden for several minutes with my eyes open but not truly seeing anything, I head back to the patio and sit on one of the steps that lead to the pool area. bI /bam deep in thought and lost in a jumble of emotions when I hear footsteps approaching.