Page 12 of My Big Fat Shifter Wedding

I’d prepared myself for the query. In fact, it was the reason why it had taken me two full weeks to give that paper to my parents.

“Lots of things. Maybe traveling for a bit, but I’m thinking more fall for that. Maybe I’ll learn dancing. I’ve always wanted to take lessons. Volunteer at a pet shelter or library. Maybe even a senior care home. I⁠—”

“Oi, Mama,” Massimo said as he strode in. “I wanted to have bruschetta with my eggs this morning but we’re out. I thought you said you got a fresh batch of the topping from Serafina?”

“Yes, mi caro. It’s canned, so it’s in the pantry with all the mason jars. You know, where I keep my spaghetti sauce.”

“Ah, si, Mama. Grazie!” He saluted and turned to march out, but that was when he spotted me. “Oh, good morning, Olivia. You still on for the movies this weekend with Rolando and me?”

“Of course.”

“Cool, cool. Can’t wait.”

“Me either.”

With that he was gone and I could already hear him rustling through the pantry on the opposite wall of the kitchen. My parents had done a whole lot of renovations and building since they’d first moved into the house when my mother was pregnant with their first child. Perhaps one of the smartest projects they’d done was to build a walk-in pantry. Even with our packed house and many visitors, it was almost always stuffed to the rafters with all sorts of food that a modern shifter might need.

“Resignation letter…” my father murmured once my brother was gone and perhaps something in me snapped. Or maybe snapped was too intense of a word. Maybe it was more of a… mild fracture?

“Yes, Papa, a resignation letter for me! I’m training Cecilia to take my place and have already started to make sure she’s up to snuff! And I’m gonna do⁠—”

“Mama, Roma and I are going on a trip to Niagara! Do you—” Leandro paused when he stepped into the kitchen where I’d caught my parents sitting at the informal table where we often ate meals when it wasn’t a special occasion. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

“Actually, yes.”

He nodded. “Oh, no worries then. Anyway, do you want us to grab you anything?”

“Yes, actually. Some of that fancy wine they have from that cold-processed grape orchard, and their fancy cheeses. Maybe—” I cleared my throat and my mother’s eyes went wide, her cheeks turning pink. “I will text you later.”

“Why not now? I’m here.”

Yeah, just Leandro being Leandro. “Didn’t you move out?” I snapped, my irritation growing. “This could have been a phone call.”

“Mama was making chicken parm last night, of course I stayed over. Besides, Roma was visiting her parents. And if I was calling, would you be any less prissy?”

I was not prissy!

“Leandro—”

Because my life was my life, Papa’s phone rang. I snapped my head in that direction.

“Answer that and you can kiss me training Cecilia goodbye. I’ll walk out right now.”

That was definitely not a tone I used with my family. The entire room froze. Even without shifter senses, it went beyond being able to hear a pin drop right down to audible blinking territory.

“Olivia,” my father said slowly, finally sounding like he was taking me seriously. “What is going on? Are you okay?”

I flushed ever so slightly. The people-pleaser in me instantly wanted to fold and say it was a prank. After all, I’d spent my entire life being the best daughter and sister I could be, and I was damn good at it if I did say so myself. What if that was what I was always meant for? There was no shame in being a supporting character.

However, I grabbed hold of that idea and threw it to the farthest reaches of my mind. My birthday had really shown me that although we all loved each other, the way I was treated went a little too far. And I was included in that. I was the one who never set boundaries, who always let myself be last, who prided myself on being low maintenance, when really, I had been scared to have any needs at all. I was thirty now, and it was time for Olivia to figure out who she was outside of her usefulness to others.

“I’m perfectly fine, Papa. This is something I need to do for myself.”

“For yourself?” my mother repeated. Goodness, from the look on her face, it was like I’d told her I was planning on traveling to Mars and never returning. “But, my dear, what is the purpose of having pack, of having familia, if we do not support each other? That is what we’re here for.” She reached across the table to me, and I took her hand in mine. Memories bubbled up at the warm, soft touch, all so incredibly fond and sweet. “Let us help you with whatever is going on.”

Good Lord, it would be so easy to cave. To stay with the status quo and never have to change. But no matter how tempted I was, I couldn’t help but think of Rolando’s slurred words as he said he didn’t like how the family treated me. I also couldn’t stop thinking of how I never would have had a single slice of dessert on my own birthday if it weren’t for him thinking of me in a way so many (again, including myself) simply didn’t.

“Thank you, Mama, but this is something I need to do for me. And I promise, if I ever get too far into my own head, or a little too lost, I know exactly where to look for help.”