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She watched her mother’s throat delicately bob as she swallowed, then watched in shock as she sank to the otter chair and perched on the edge.
“Please, Abigail. Sit. We need to talk.”
Her tummy was in tight knots as she rounded the couch, shoving the teal blanket and a stray box of cookies away as she sat. She folded her hands in her lap, mimicking her mother’s posture as she smiled tightly.
“Okay. About what?”
Her mother took a deep breath as she shifted on the chair. “As you know, your grandfather passed away years ago.” Abbie’s brows pushed together. What did that have to do with anything? “Apparently, he left you a hefty inheritance.” She blinked.
Inheritance?
“He did?” she breathed, and her mother’s pointed chin barely dipped. “How much?”
“Two-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars.”
Abbie’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God.”
“Since you decided to leave, your father and I weren’t sure if you’d want it. But we’ve talked, and have decided?—”
“You’ve kept it from me?” she asked breathlessly. They couldn’t do that, could they?
“We didn’t keep it,” her mother gritted out. “It’s not yours until you’re twenty-five, or we decide to give it to you.”
“But he left it for me.” Abbie pressed her hand to her chest, tears burning her eyes.
“With conditions.” Her mother took a deep breath, her long, elegant fingers twisting together. “Your father and I have a proposition for you.”
Abbie tried to swallow past the lump in her throat, tried to hear past the roaring in her ears.
“Abigail?” She wiped at her face as she looked back at her mother. The quicker she left, the quicker Abbie could have a breakdown in peace.
“A proposition,” she rasped, even though she felt like she knew what it was going to be before her mother even spoke.
“We’ll give you all the money early if you move back home.”
Abbie’s heart fell to her feet. She knew it was coming but it didn’t make the words any easier to digest.
“I—I don’t want to move back home. I like it here.” Her mother scoffed, waving dismissively.
“You’ve had your little rebellion, it’s time to grow up and come home.” Abbie shook her head at the words.
“It’s not a rebellion. It’s my life.”
“Abigail—”
“Abbie!” she cried, banging her fists on the couch. “My name is Abbie!” Her mother’s expression didn’t shift as she stared coldly back at her. “It’s my life! I don’t want that money. I’ll wait until I’m twenty-five, and if it still has your strings tied to it, I won’t take it. I don’t want it.”
“You’re being unreasonable. You’d really rather live here than with us? You’d rather be poor than have that money?” She looked around as she spoke, looking like she was afraid of contracting syphilis.
“Yes! I’d rather live under a bridge than live with you!”
“Abi—”
“Get out. I don’t want you here anymore. Please leave. Please—just get out.”
Her mouth opened and closed, her eyes widening as shock finally filled her face. Abbie felt a bit guilty for blowing up on her, but it was all too much. Despite her amazing day with Jett, her emotions were shot. She’d been through a lot, had highs and lows and was tired. Her mother’s words were the final push to send her over the edge.
Abbie didn’t let her mother say anything else as she rose from the couch and made her way across the small apartment with as much dignity as she could muster. She slowly opened the door and prayed some lunatic wasn’t on the other side as she held it open and stared at her mother, biting her tongue to keep her tears in.
