As her words registered, I felt like I was suddenly seeing my mom clearly for the first time ever. She was making this about her. She did this with everything.Mypregnancy. My love life. My college education. She pretended that she had my best interest at heart, but it was all about her. She was living her life vicariously through me.
“No, Mother,” I said, unable to keep the sadness from my voice. How had our relationship gotten so warped? We used to be close, when I was younger. “This isn’t about you.”
“Have you told Hunter yet? Maybe he’ll forgive you. You can still get married.”
“I don’t want to marry him. I think you know that.”
“But...you agreed to marry Hunter years ago. It’s what’s best for you. For both of you.”
“No, it’s not.” I wasn’t going to back down on this, no matter how disappointed she looked. I hated it, but I’d already made myself miserable in the pursuit of her approval. It had cost me the best relationship I’d ever had, and for what? To make this woman happy for once. It wasn’t worth the price I would have to pay.
“This is serious,” she said, her voice softening. “Hunter is a good man. A reliable man. Not like some random biker you met in a bar.”
I hated to hear her talk about Butch like that. Wasn’t that the problem with our relationship? I had made him feel like he wasn’t as good as Hunter. But that wasn’t true. I loved him.
I wasn’t sure what the future held for me, but I knew that I didn’t want my child to live like this, to constantly feel the pressure of expectations. I wanted my baby to be happy.
If I was going to forge my own path in life, it was time that I got started. I had to be my own woman so that I could teach my child to do the same.
“Sorry, Mom. I’m moving out,” I said. My words were meant with stunned silence.
* * *
“I can’t believe you’re going to be living here,” Lacey said as we carried the last box of my things into her apartment.
“Me either,” I said truthfully. I had thought about moving out of my parents’ house many times—I was an adult, after all—but I always chickened out, afraid to stand on my own.
Now that my anger at my mom had worn off a little, I could admit that my own cowardice was part of what had gotten me into this situation. I was dependent on my parents and their money. The thought of going against their wishes and making my own decisions had been daunting in the past.
It still was, but I had to get over that. I was going to be a mother.
It had only taken a day to pack up my stuff and move it out. I left all the furniture behind. It didn’t really feel like mine anyway. My mom had paid an interior decorator to design every room in the house, which was why there weren’t framed family photos or anything personal. The rooms all looked like they belonged in a magazine.
Lacey’s place was a home. I could see her personality in the brightly colored throw pillows she’d picked for the couch and the yellow curtains that didn’t match, but made the room feel cheery. The ugly old recliner was her grandpa’s and she always swore it was the most comfortable chair in the world. There was a collage of framed photos on the wall above the television, featuring friends and family.
Little things like this made the place feel warm. I didn’t even mind that the guest room was so bare, only consisting of a twin bed and a nightstand. It was basically a blank slate with all the potential that I could dream up.
“This’ll be your room now,” Lacey said. “So you can do whatever you want with it.”
I liked the sound of that.
“So…” Lacey started, looking at me expectantly.
“What?”
“Have you told Butch yet or what?” she asked, exasperated. “You got the confirmation from the doctor yesterday. What are you waiting for?”
I made a show of pointedly looking at the boxes stacked up in the living room. “Been a little busy, Lace.”
She shook her head and tsked. “Excuses, excuses.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but she knew me too well for that.
“Okay, maybe I’ve also been avoiding telling him. What if he’s not happy? What if he doesn’t want to be with me?”
“Don’t you think it’s a little crazy that you are more worried about that now than when you were engaged to someone else?”
“Yeah,” I said, taking a seat on the couch. I picked up my water bottle and took a sip. I was still battling morning sickness, but I was trying to stay hydrated. “There’s more at stake now. I’m carrying his child.”
