“Oh my bad, I’m here working so that you can live the life that you do. Sincerest apologies,” my mother responded coolly; she didn’t let Cahya’s words dent her. She knew her purpose as a parent was first to work to provide and then to offer emotional support. She obviously took the first as a priority over the other.
“And you, my sweet Soleh, how’s school?” she asked.
“Terrible. I’m failing chem, but it’s whatever. I won’t use it in the future anyways.” Soleh shrugged.
“I thought you always said you wanted to be a doctor, what happened?” Pat wondered,
“ I haven’t wanted to be a doctor since I was like twelve, Mummy. I’m working towards becoming a video game developer. Computer science has always been my strength,” he explained, and I admired him for standing his ground.
“Oh.” She nodded. “Well, I’ve heard that that’s certainly a lucrative path these days.”
“Yeah but it’s also fun. I want to have fun with my job. I’m constantly surrounded by people whose passion is the bane of their existence. I don’t want that for myself,” Soleh emphasized,
I was proud of him; as I listened to him speak, I realize that he was no longer the little kid who needed me to order him pizza on the telephone. That he had grown, whether or not anyone around him had acknowledged it or not, he had grown.
Mom, as usual, was a tougher crowd. Her sharp gaze rested on Wyn across the table, her expression unreadable but distinctly appraising.
“So,” she began after a lull in conversation, setting her spoon down with deliberate precision. “Wynter. You’re quite…delicate, aren’t you?”
I froze, nearly dropping my fork. “Mummy!” I hissed, glaring at her.
Wyn, to his credit, didn’t even blink. “Delicate?” he repeated, tilting his head slightly, his tone neutral.
“Yes,” she continued, her voice calm but pointed. “You’re polished, poised. It’s unusual in young men these days. I assume it’s from your background in figure skating?”
I opened my mouth to intervene, but Wyn shot me a brief glance—a subtle shake of his head telling me he could handle it.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied smoothly. “Figure skating emphasizes grace and precision, but it also requires strength and resilience. The best skaters have to balance both.”
Mom raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but not yet won over. “Strength and resilience,” she echoed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Not words I’d immediately associate with a sport that focuses on…performances.”
Wyn leaned forward slightly, his voice steady and calm. “That’s a common misconception,” he said. “But skating isn’t just about artistry. It’s about pushing through injuries, training for hours every day, and competing at the highest levels against the best in the world. I assure you, ma’am, it’s as much about endurance as it is about grace.”
Mom’s expression flickered, the faintest trace of approval breaking through her otherwise stoic demeanor. “Hmm,” she murmured, glancing at me. “Well, I suppose it’s good that you’re balanced. Yesoh has always been…” She paused, her gazesoftening slightly. “Energetic. You’ll need that strength to keep up with her.”
I felt my face heat up as Soleh snorted into his glass of water. “Mummy!”
Wyn smiled faintly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I think I can manage,” he said, his voice warm but confident. “I always have.”
Later, after dinner, as we helped clean up, Mom handed Wyn a stack of dishes. She watched him for a moment before speaking. “You know, Wynter, I don’t mean to offend with my comments. It’s just…you remind me of someone.”
“Someone from your past?” Wyn asked, his voice gentle as he placed the plates on the counter.
She hesitated, her expression softening. “Yes. My younger brother. He was…refined, like you. Always stood out, but never let anyone make him feel small for it.”
Wyn smiled, a genuine warmth in his expression. “He sounds like someone worth admiring.”
Mum nodded slowly, then glanced at me, her voice quieter now. “I can see why she likes you, you embody everything she’s ever aspired for since she was a little girl: balance, grace, enough confidence that it doesn’t come off as pride. It’s fascinating honestly.”
My heart swelled at the rare approval, and I bit back a smile as I busied myself with drying the plates.
“Thank you,” Wyn said simply, meeting her gaze with a quiet confidence that seemed to finally win her over.
By the time we left the kitchen, I felt lighter than I had in days. As Wyn slipped his hand into mine, I gave him a teasing grin. “Delicate, huh?”
“Graceful,” he corrected, smirking. “There’s a difference.”
“Of course,” I teased, leaning into his side. “And you handled that perfectly, by the way.”
