My fingers loosened. The roll fell back into the basket.
“And the things I gave up to have you,” she snapped, “I lost my uterus. For what, exactly?” She gestured down the table. “For this?”
My father stared at her. “That’s enough.”
“She doesn’t appreciate me. I risked everything and got one child out of it. One. I could have had more—children who listened, who showed gratitude—but no. I get sarcasm and biotech insults.”
“You got your ‘timeless face’ early,” Something inside me snapped. “You should thank me. Losing your uterus meant you could start biotech treatments sooner.”
My father’s head turned slowly toward me. “Madeline.”
My heart pounded against my ribs.
My mother went very still. Then she rose from her chair with a hand to her chest, eyes filling with tears on cue.
“I gave up everything to be your mother,” she choked out. “Everything. And this is how you speak to me? The child I almost died having?”
Guilt hit my stomach. “I didn’t mean?—”
My father pushed back his chair. “Darling?—”
“She hates me, Marco,” my mother insisted, tears falling perfectly. “My own daughter hates me.”
“I don’t—” I started.
My father turned to me instead of her, and for a horrible moment he looked… disappointed.
“You know better than to say something like that,” he said quietly. “You know how she is. Why would you deliberately provoke her? Now she’s going to be impossible.”
My throat closed.
“I wasn’t trying to?—”
“You could have just sat there and said nothing. You know that, Maddy. You know what she’s like.” He stood and followed my mother out as she sobbed her way dramatically through the doors.
The dining hall doors closed behind them. I was sure the next few weeks would be hell.
I stared at the place my mother had been sitting, at the wine glass still half full, at the roll I wasn’t allowed to eat. My skin buzzed like I’d been slapped. Maybe I had been, in a way. Just not where anyone could see.
I’d said one wrong thing. One. And somehow, by the end of it, I’d become the ungrateful daughter who ruined everything.
Maybe that was the truth.
Maybe that was all I was here.
Too soft for dynasty deals. Too emotional for real pressure. Too heavy for dresses. Too thin-skinned for comments. Too sarcastic. Too sensitive. Too…disappointing.
But deep down I worried…what if she is right. What if this was the best version of me anyone was ever going to get. And I wasn’t enough for anyone.
My phone buzzed against the table.
I looked down like it was a lifeline.
Baby, I got this weekend free. Please tell me you can spend it with me?
The wordbabyblurred. I blinked hard to see the message clearly again. I typed,I’m free.
His reply came in fast, like he’d been waiting. Naturally flirting followed.
