“A good thing?” Mom sputtered, her laugh tinged with disbelief. “Macey, this was your dream job! How could losing it be a good thing?”
I shook my head, a strange sense of relief washing over me as I prepared to tell the truth I’d been holding back for so long.
“No, Mom. It wasn’t my dream. I stayed because I thought it was what you wanted for me. But I was miserable. It wasn’t the worst job, sure, but it wasn’t what I loved. I worked so hard, and most of it just got rejected.
“I don’t care about climbing the corporate ladder. I don’t care about working for a magazine. I know that’s hard to hear because it was your dream once, but I think I stayed as long as I did because of how muchyouloved it.”
As the words spilled out, I realized just how much I had been holding back. Saying it out loud made everything clearer. I wasn’t letting her down. I was choosing my own path, and it didn’t have to be the same as hers.
Mom’s face softened, and she set her utensils down, then reached across the table to take my hand. Her grip was warm and reassuring. “Macey, I had no idea you felt that way,” she said, her voice gentle. “I loved the idea of the job because I thoughtyouloved it. But if you weren’t happy, then I’m glad you’re moving on. Yes, working for a magazine was once my dream, but dreams change. Now my dream is seeing you happy, living your life the way you want to. And ifRoamer’s Digestwasn’t giving you that, then I say good riddance.”
I swallowed hard, fighting back tears that threatened to wellup. “I felt like I ruined so many chances for you to do what you loved.”
“Ruined?” she echoed, her voice filled with disbelief. “You didn’t ruin anything, baby. You and your father are what I love. The things that matter to me aren’t my career, but the life we’ve built together. Work doesn’t fill my heart—being with my family does. Sharing meals with you. Hearing about your day. Eating your dad’s overcooked pasta.”
“Hey!” Dad protested with a playful grin.
Mom shot him a teasing look before turning back to me, her smile warm and full of love. “You’re my dream, Macey. And your days are too short and too precious to spend doing what you think someone else wants for you. It takes courage to stand up for yourself, and I’m proud of you for finding that courage.”
“And besides,” Dad added with a wink, “everyone gets fired at least once in their life. It’s practically a rite of passage.”
I snorted, the tension breaking as laughter bubbled up. If I ever got fired again, it would be from my own venture. The thought felt empowering, not scary.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling lighter than I had in a long time. “Getting fired has forced me to think about my next steps, and I’ve been working on my blog twenty-four seven.”
Mom raised her brows, curiosity dancing in her eyes as she released my hand and resumed eating her pasta. “And how is the blog going?”
I twirled a forkful of pasta and held it up in a mock toast. “Macey’s Milesis going very well, thank you. It’ll be a little bit of time before I’m making a full salary from it, but I’ve got savings in the meantime.”
“That’s great news,” said Dad. “Good things take time.”
After finishing the pasta on my plate, I spent a few minutes giving them a behind-the-scenes look at my blog. All my plans,goals, photos. It really was a relief to have not just their approval but their excitement.
Dad had just excused himself for a few minutes when Mom took my hand. “Professionally, everything seems to be working out, and I’m so proud of you. But you still look upset. Unsatisfied. What is it?”
I sighed, wishing I could bury myself in the remaining carbs instead. “It’s everything with Noah. I know we weren’t a real couple, but the hurt from losing him was real.”
“Why did you guys break up?” Mom twisted her mouth, searching for the right words. “Or, uh, end your agreement?”
I sighed, tracing a finger along the rim of my cup. “He did some things he shouldn’t have without asking me. He had good intentions, but it blew up in our faces. We got into a huge fight about it.”
Mom leaned back in her chair, giving me a knowing look. “That sounds like typical relationship drama to me. I don’t think you’d be this upset over someone you only had fake feelings for in a fake relationship.”
I hesitated, the admission sticking in my throat. “Yeah, I guess some of it got real.”
Her expression softened. “Noah seems like a great guy. I’m sorry he upset you, but if he had good intentions, I’m sure he’s regretting it.”
I exhaled slowly, picking at the hem of my sleeve. “Yeah. Probably.”
Mom smiled, a glint of something playful in her eyes. “Maybe he’s missing you as much as you’re missing him right now.”
My cheeks burned. “Mom!”
She laughed, the sound warm and teasing. “Just calling it like I see it, baby.” She stood and headed toward the kitchen. “Now, I baked some extra cookies. You’ll have to take a few home with you.”
On the train home, cookies in hand, all I could think about was Noah. I missed him. That was the simplest, most undeniable truth.
I turned my phone over in my hands, debating. If I texted him, would it be the start of fixing things? Or just another mistake?
