“Oh, her same old stuff. How I embarrassed the family. And that I should have just let her find me a suitable match. As if I’m a piece of livestock she can auction off.”
Birdie exhales softly. “I know, sugar. But are you surprised?”
I stare at my food in front of me. “No.”
“She’s always valued optics over happiness.”
I push my food around with my fork. “I know.”
Birdie hums. “You sound worn out. I don’t like it.”
“I am,” I admit. “I’ve had nonstop meetings since I’ve been back. Trying to cram everything in.”
“Are you eating? You know you forget to eat,” she reminds me.
I glance down at the food I’ve been picking at. “I’m working on it.”
She’s quiet for a moment, then says gently, “Your mother was your very first bully.”
I swallow, and tears prick my eyes at the memories that have haunted me for thirty years. She’s right.
“I had you,” I say gratefully.
“And you’ll always have me, sugar. You know that,” she says in her soft voice that has always comforted me.
My throat tightens, and I lean back in my chair, looking around the penthouse. “I hate it here, Birdie.” She listens, and I continue. “I miss Cal, and I miss Coconut Beach.”
“When are you coming back?” she asks.
“In two days.”
“Two days,” she repeats. “That’s not too long, sugar. And you bring that Wilby with you. He’s a hoot, and the Bees all love him.”
“He’s coming.” I smile at the mention of him. “I have to finish up with the board review. I can’t leave in the middle of this.”
“I understand.”
I stare at the skyline again. “It feels like I’m living two lives,” I say. “In one, I’m powerful and necessary. In the other, I’m loved.”
“You’re allowed to have both, you know.”
“Am I?” I choke out.
“Yes,” she says firmly. “Just because you didn’t have that growing up doesn’t mean you can’t have that now for yourself.”
“I don’t want to lose either,” I admit. “I want to have my job, and I want to be happy.”
“Then don’t,” Birdie says simply.
I think about the polished image I’m expected to have. Then I realize for the first time in my life, maybe this isn’t my dream life after all. Maybe this was just a chapter in my life. And maybe it’s time for a new chapter. Maybe I’m allowed to want more.
“I’ll be back soon,” I say again.
“We’ll be here,” she replies.
After we hang up, I sit at the table a little longer. The food is cold now. The apartment is still quiet and feels so lonely. My phone lights up with an email from legal.
I ignore it. Instead, I pick up my phone and open my texts. I type a text out to Cal.
