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“That’s my girl.”
“Does that mean you’ll eat it?” I ask hopefully.
“I’m only drinking the tea you made.” She strolls to the living area. “I’m on a diet, anyway.”
I place the containers in the refrigerator for when she gets hungry. Mum has so much pride, it’s insane.
Papa, too, I guess. That’s why they’re always at each other’s throats.
I pour us each a cup of tea and join her on the sofa. She’s watching The Notebook. Again.
“Mum, seriously?”
“What?” She takes the mug from me. “Romance in films and fiction is much better than real life.”
“You’re the one who told me it’s all lies.” I settle beside her.
“That’s why it’s better than real life.”
I run my finger over the hem of the cup. “How’s it going with Lucien?”
“Fine,” she says in a dispassionate tone.
“Mum, are you even trying?”
“Of course I am. Lucien isn’t a loser like the others. We talk a lot and he’s not intimidated by my brain.”
“That’s great, right?”
“Uh-huh. He wants to take me to France.”
“Why don’t you go? It’ll be so romantic.”
“What was I just saying? Romance doesn’t exist in real life, Babydoll. Anyway, I’ll think about it.” She faces me. “Now, tell me about you.”
“M-me?”
She smiles in a sly way. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way your features have brightened up lately.”
“T-they haven’t!” My cheeks are so heated, they’re about to explode.
“Oh yes, they have.” She narrows her eyes. “It’s not even Jonathan’s son, is it? My daughter is a man slayer.”
“Mum!”
“What? You’re with two men at the same time and you get to choose which one is best. As long as you end up marrying Aiden, all is good.”
I swallow at that. Not only is Aiden so caught up in Elsa that he’s physically unable to see anyone but her, but there’s also no way I’d marry him.
The sole reason I’m still keeping up with the engagement is because of the camouflage and Papa’s campaign.
“Don’t let it consume you.” Mum strokes my hair off my forehead. “You’re the only one who’ll suffer.”
I abandon the cup on the table, wrap my arms around her waist, and hide my face against her chest. “What if it’s too late, Mum?”
“Oh, Babydoll.” She places the mug on the table and hugs me. “Why did you have to repeat my mistakes?”
I’m not repeating her mistakes.
