Nina:
It’s fine, I wasn't holding my breath tonight.
It’s the best I can do, and I hope I didn’t sound too bitter.
The message that arrives seconds later tells me I probably failed at that.
Frog:
I hate disappointing you,Little Fae.
Frog:
I really am sorry.
I don’t get the chance to reply.
My mother knocks on the open door of my bedroom, and her knowing look takes me in completely before I can even try to hide the truth.
“He canceled again?” she asks.
I don’t hide the grim smile.
“He did.”
Rosa bites her lip before deciding she won’t keep her opinions to herself. She walks into my room, and I sit on the bed, bracing myself.
“I know you told me not to worry, Nina, and I did my best to stay quiet all week, but I don’t know how to do that anymore,” she says.
I lift my hand slightly, silently telling her to go on.
My mother looks away, wrestling with the words she wants to say.
“Don’t you think that something that starts like this is already doomed to fail, my daughter?”
“I don’t know what you expect me to say, Mom. No, I’m not happy about being stood up six times in one week, but I also don’t think it’s the end of the world. Things happen.”
“Six?” she repeats. “In a row?”
“Say what you want to say, Mom.”
“I adore Nero, but I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—I don’t think he’s the man for you, my daughter.”
“And why does he have to bethe man for me, Mom?” I ask. “It’s not like there’s space in my life for a relationship right now. We’re just having fun. I’ve told you that already, and I’ll repeat it: I have plans, and nothing and no one is going to change them.”
“Plans,” she murmurs. “And what plans are those? Maybe it’s time you start putting them into motion. I don’t want you buried in that shop day and night, Nina. I raised you for so much more than that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with working in the shop, Mom. It’s yours, and that alone makes working there amazing.”
“It isn’t mine yet.”
“The space isn’t, but the shop is.”
“Stop dodging me, Nina. Your plans. I want to know what they are.”
I huff.
“I applied to the Nurses in the Middle East program,” I admit reluctantly—because her insistence tells me she won’t leave me alone until I give her proof I’m not about to abandon my life for a summer romance. A winter one, actually.
