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Fuck. My. Life.
"What did you do to make her cry?" my dad asks as my mom continues to stare down at me with disappointment in her eyes.
"He walked away from her, that's what."
"I didn't talk it through," I finally offer. "She did something nice for me, and instead of saying thank you, I got upset and shut down."
"I think you owe her more than an apology at this point. Flowers, chocolate, you on your knees begging for forgiveness." My mom's words spark an idea in me that quickly dies when she continues. "It wouldn't hurt if you bought that girl a ring and told her you loved her. That might make her forgive you."
"I'm not proposing to her, Mom. Are you crazy? We've only been seeing each other for a few weeks."
But you've been falling in love with her for two years, I think to myself as my mom echoes my thoughts, almost word for word.
"You love that girl, and according to Brady,"—fucking Brady—"that's not a recent development. You only now had the courage to throw yourself out there."
"The timing was never right."
"And now it is? But you're going to let her walk away because you got in a fight over something stupid. Something you should have been thanking her for." My mom is relentless. She's a pit-bull when she wants to get her way. And she tends to make sense of things.
Wait. Back the hell up.
"Mom," I draw her name out as realization hits me hard. She knows why we fought. She knows more than she's letting on. "What did she tell you?"
"Enough to know you're an idiot when it comes to relationships." She snaps, but her tone has lost its bite, and she's avoiding eye contact.
"Justine." My dad must have heard it too because he turns to face her, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'd like to know why he's an idiot. It's not very often we get to scold him like this anymore."
Great. Just great.
My mom presses her lips together as we both silently stare at her. The clock on the wall ticks as the seconds turn to minutes. I count each tick, focusing on the sound as my mom stands her ground. Finally, I see her resolve kick in. She looks at my dad, and a single tear falls down her cheek.
There's no doubt in my mind Piper told her why I was angry. I didn't want my parents to know. Ever. I knew my mother would blame herself.
"He's giving up culinary school to run the restaurant."
Both turn to look at me. I don't confirm or deny her statement. I don't need to. All the confirmation they need is in the set of my shoulders as I bow my head in defeat.
"Why? Why would you ever think we would hold you back from culinary school?" my mom asks.
It was once her dream. She gave it up to start the restaurant.
"You wouldn't. I know that. That's why I didn't ask you."
"So you're mad at Piper because you made a decision to give up culinary school? I don't understand."
When I look up, my mother nods at me to explain so I do. I tell them everything, including my reasoning. At some point, my dad pulls my mom into his lap and wraps his arms around her. It makes me miss simple moments like that with Piper. The feel of her against my chest. How perfectly we fit together.
"Your mom's right, JJ." Oh, thank God we're back to my nickname. "You owe her more than an apology."
I know I do. And I'll find a way to make it up to her.
