Chapter 73
“How is it that every time I miss a weekend brunch with you, a lot happens in your life? It never gets boring,” Reyna remarked dryly, humor lacing her words.
This week, our weekly meetup was at my penthouse. She looked immaculate, lounging in my oversized armchair as if she owned it. Sunlight streaming through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows glinted off her silver jewelry, and her perfectly manicured nails clinked softly against her hot chocolate mug.
I sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Tell me about it,” I said, shaking my head and running a hand through my hair. “Seriously. I just want things to stay as they are. Is that too much to ask?”
The words felt more like an appeal to the universe than a complaint. Since Aiden and I had gotten back together, our relationship had settled into a comfortable rhythm I cherished: quiet coffee mornings, laughter-filled evenings with Gia, and hushed, intimate afternoons with Aiden. No misunderstandings or fights; just life. I clung to it, terrified of what might come next.
Man, what wouldn't I give to avoid the life of a main character in a cheesy romance, constantly facing misfortune? I wished for invisibility—a chance to be a supporting character instead of the one the world always seemed to focus on.
“It’s just your luck, darling,” Reyna chuckled, her laughter rich and melodic as she took another sip. She stretched her long legs, crossing them at the ankles with the nonchalance of someone who’d never known hardship.
As if to mock my luck, Carlos entered. His cautious expression—the one he wore when delivering bad news—made my shoulders tense. I waited for him to speak.
“We have, uh, a visitor for you,” he began hesitantly, his voice lower than usual. His discomfort was palpable. “She claims to be your mother.”
My mother! The words felt alien. For a split second, I wondered if he’d mistaken someone. “My mother? What—It must be a fraud. My parents wouldn't travel all this way.”
Carlos grimaced, his discomfort deepening. “Well, she does look like you.”
A shiver skittered down my spine. I sat up straighter, my heart thrumming. My mother, here, now—it felt surreal. I slowly rose, my legs carrying me toward the hall as if on autopilot. I wouldn’t believe it until I saw her.
And then I did.
I froze. There she was, standing in my living room. The years hadn’t dulled her elegance; she stood tall and poised, her sharp eyes appraising the room. Her hair was streaked with more silver than I remembered, but her expression remained the same—a carefully composed mask revealing nothing.
“It’s really you,” I said, the words cold and bitter, laced with resentment I hadn’t realized I still harbored. If they hurt her, she didn’t show it. Her face was unreadable.
“Freya. How are you?” Her voice was calm, but it felt rehearsed, as if she’d practiced this moment a hundred times.
“What are you doing here?” The question came out harsher than intended, but I couldn’t temper it. My body was rigid, coiled tight with untangled emotions.
“I missed you,” she said simply, as if that explained everything. “Your dad and I miss you.”
The mention of him made my stomach churn. “Dad misses me? Where is he?” My voice sharpened.
Her gaze faltered briefly. “He—he couldn’t…” she trailed off, her composure cracking as she struggled for an excuse. The pause told me everything. The bitterness rose in my throat.
He hadn’t forgiven me for something he thought I’d done. He hadn’t even bothered to come.
“Just tell me the real reason. Why are you really here?” I asked, agitated. I hated the deliberation. I needed to know her motives.
“I told you, I miss you.”
“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” I snapped, hating that I desperately wanted it to be true, but knowing in my heart it wasn’t.
“Mommy,” a small voice interrupted from behind, and I turned to see Gia darting toward me. She was grinning, her curly hair bouncing, but the moment her curious eyes landed on my mother, she faltered. Her smile vanished, replaced by hesitation as she clung to my leg.
“Who is she?” Gia’s voice was hesitant, her round eyes seeking answers.