“Chad, seriously, what are you doing?” I cross my arms over my chest, glaring at him.
“You weren’t answering my calls or texts.”
Most people take that as a clue, but not Chad. He’s used to getting everything he wants.
“I didn’t have anything to say. In case you forgot, we’re not dating anymore.”
“Then why haven’t you told your parents?” he asks, a smug expression transforming his face.
I roll my lips. Dammit. “It hasn’t come up. I’m planning to tell them this weekend. I’m heading home right now, so if you could just…” I wave at the door.
It’s a pathetic excuse. We’ve been broken up for months, and I haven’t said a word to my family. I know the moment I tell them, my mother will get that disappointed look on her face.“Why, Livvy, why? He’s perfect for you.”
My mother took to Chad immediately when I brought him home. She loved the fact that he was just as wealthy, if not more, than our family. A power couple, she’d called us once. Insert eye roll.
“Yes, I know. Your mother called to ask me if I’d be joining you. I was surprised, but don’t worry, I think I played it off well.” He smiles like he’s pleased with himself.
“I’m going to tell them.”
“It’s fine, babe.” I grind my teeth, patience running thin. “Don’t tell them. We never should’ve broken up, and I know it’s my fault, but I miss you. How long are you going to punish me?” He gets up from the chair and stands in front of me, grabbing my face in his hands. His touch makes my skin crawl. I don’t know where his hands have been.
I jerk away, and he gapes at me.
“I’m not punishing you. You broke up with me!” I reiteratefor the hundredth time. “You wanted to screw other girls. I can’t just forget that, Chad.”
“I made a mistake! How long are you going to make me chase you? It’s getting a bit old, Liv.”
A mistake? HA! A mistake is ordering my burger with mustard instead of without. A mistake is not studying for a test or waiting until the last minute to write an essay. A mistake is not ending your two-and-a-half-year relationship so you can hook up with a whole ass sorority. I don’t say that, though. Ellie constantly tells me to stop being a pushover, but I hate confrontation. It makes me anxious. It’s probably how I’ve ended up with a whole future planned for myself thatIhad no input in.
“I’m not making you chase me. I’m just—I don’t know. I can’t do this right now. I have to go.” I grab my suitcase and drag it outside.
“Can I drive you to the airport?”
“Thank you, but I ordered a ride. It’s probably already here,” I say, checking the ride-share app on my phone.
“I know I messed up, Liv. I promise I’ll make it up to you. I’ll chase you as long as it takes.” He leans in to kiss me, but I turn, giving him my cheek.
“I don’t want you to chase me. I have to go.”
He follows me out and loads my suitcase into the black car waiting for me. I get in without another word to him. When I close the door, I rest my head against the seat and exhale.
It’s going to be a long week.
The airport was a nightmare,and by the time I make it home, I’m exhausted. All I want to do is crawl into bedand sleep for two days. Of course, that won’t be possible with my mother around.
The driver pulls the car up the driveway and jumps out to open my door. My parents had sent him to pick me up at the airport. Apparently, it was too inconvenient for my mom to deal with traffic.
I haul my suitcase up the concrete stairs, and before I reach the door, it swings open.
“Livvy!” My mother greets me, patting my back instead of hugging me. Affection was never her strong suit. Growing up, we had maids and full-time nannies even though she was always home. She only helped my father run the club when it involved throwing a party. Her childhood was rough, from what I’ve gathered in hushed conversations. She doesn’t like to talk about it. I know she loves me; she just has a weird way of showing it.
I spent my youth desperate to please her. I thought if I impressed her enough, she’d give me something in return. No matter what I did or how good my grades were, I never received the kind of attention I’d wanted from her. No amount of academic achievements or awards made a difference to her. It was practically a requirement to be perfect in this family, so there was never anything special about my achievements. It was expected and I simply delivered. Like the mail running six days a week, nothing out of the ordinary.
My mother doesn’t waste any more time on pleasantries and leads me into the living room, interrogating me right away. Most of her questions are about school, but when she throws one about Chad my way, I dodge it, slightly guilty as I lie and say everything’s fine.
Besides, she talked to him earlier, so she knows how he is. I’m going to tell her about the breakup, but I should probably do it when my father’s here as well. Two birds and all.
Paula, the housekeeper, brings us some tea, and I pretend to sip it even though it tastes horrible. I suspect my mother hates it too, but it makes her feel elegant or something. She grew up well below the poverty line and was forced to work at fourteen after her father was injured on the job. Her mother had to stay home to care for him. My mom was the oldest, and with four younger siblings to support, she quit school to help keep the lights on. While she was working as a grocery store clerk, she met my father. Apparently, for him, it was love at first sight. He’d saved her, she likes to say, and the rest is history.
