My friend squinted and never took her eyes off me.
"I just can't do it."
Mei looked even more confused. "Do what?"
"Become the woman who forgives infidelity. I swore for years I would never be my mother."
"So, you'd rather punish yourself than be labeled?"
"I've talked…no,we'vetalked a lot of shit about the women who forgive cheating bastards and take them back."
She didn't speak, just looked at me for a bit. "Girl, this sounds like something a therapist should hear."
"Who, me?"
Mei made an act of looking around the room. "Yes, you."
I chuckled and waved her off, but deep down her words hit a note with me. Bruno called me stubborn, said I was torturing us both. Demetria said I was a fool. Why was I doing this?
Today was huge.Between the launch party and my parents' arrival, my nerves were shot. I needed that lunchtime massage more than ever. Here I was, a grown woman, living in another country on my own and starting a business, yet I was getting nervous because my parents were on their way over to dissect my life.
The urge to get a glass of wine came over me, but my father would smell it on my breath and judge. So instead, I ran aroundthe apartment, searching for places where my cleaning lady might've overlooked. The doorbell cut through my condo like a warning alarm. I flinched at the sound and noticed my pulse racing like it had something to fear.
Taking a deep breath, I hurried and opened the door. "Madre. Padre. Welcome."
"Don't you have to let us in to welcome us?" my father asked.
A few years had passed since I'd last seen him, but his usual unimpressed expression was exactly as I remembered. In truth, nothing much had changed. Padre stood tall, his belly straining his shirt, an expensive watch on his wrist, and a wallet bulging through his pocket.
I moved aside to let them in. When they did, I closed the door, inhaled slowly, and faced the judge and jury.
"Alexandra, you look good," Madre said.
She did too, though she carried a little more weight than she preferred. Her black bob was perfectly shaped, her fur coat and diamonds on full display.
Madre pulled me into her arms, firm and grounding, the kind of embrace that brought a small wave of guilt for how long I had kept my distance. I stayed pressed against her, surrounded by the scent I had known my whole life.
She really believed in a signature fragrance. Since I was a child she'd been wearing Chanel No. 5. When she released me, Mother studied me for a bit, but my eyes roamed over to Father. I watched as he wandered through the condo, lifting papers, peeking behind closed doors, even pressing his face to the window like he expected to find something waiting outside. Padre didn't say what he was looking for. His brows drew together. I rolled my eyes.
"It has walls. Ceilings. Everything a home needs," I said in his direction, hoping to lighten the mood.
Madre smiled.
"It has no man. How can you say this is everything you need?"
"Wow, that was quick," I said, checking my watch to see the timing of the first insult.
"Tomás, you promised."
I chuckled. After all these years, she still believed every word he said.
"Jessica, what did I say wrong? Your daughter has set up house alone. Where does a man fit into her life? There's no room for him."
Fuck it.
"I'm pouring a glass of wine. Anyone want?"
My mother looked ready to faint. "Wine at this time? It's barely three."
