Page 79 of Beautifully Broken

Being home in a quiet, empty house has been heaven after this morning.

It’s been nice having a lazy day to read and browse for apartments.

I even got to take a nap, which my stomach woke me up from.

I haven’t eaten since this morning and after the events at the office, none of my first and only meal of the day remains.

I’m in the kitchen making dinner when I hear mom come home.

There goes my peace and quiet.

Moments later, her footsteps tell me I’m right as they make their way into the kitchen.

“How are you feeling? I texted you to see if you needed anything,” she asks, setting her purse on the island.

I turn around to look at her. “Sorry, I left my phone upstairs. I’m feeling better.”

She smiles, taking a seat. “Good. What are you making?”

I return her smile. “Pasta with Cajun chicken. I made enough for both of us.”

Mom scrunches her nose. “Sophia, you know pasta isn’t good for you. Why not have the chicken on salad?”

“Because I need something more than roughage,” I tell her, turning back to stir my pasta.

“You won’t be young forever, darling. You need to watch your figure now so you don’t let it go later.”

I roll my eyes with my back turned to her. “I know, mother. You tell me all the time. I don’t think eating pasta here and there will be bad.”

“Fine, fine,” she sighs. “Now, can we finish our discussion from earlier?”

I knew she wouldn’t let it go .

I turn around again to face her. “Mom, I love you. But we’ve had this conversation about how your expectations affect me.”

Mom runs a hand over her face. “Sophia, I just don’t understand.

Why would you want me to take it easy on you?

To treat you like everyone else? Don’t you want to be better than them?

I know I instilled in you that you can be whoever you want, but you do realize no matter where or what you do, there are going to be expectations, right? ”

“Hold on.” I turn to the stove and turn the burner and oven off before looking back at her.

“Mom, when you single me out in front of everyone who works for you because I didn’t do something up to your standards, do you really think that makes me look better than them?

And yes, I know there will always be expectations, but yours are ridiculously high.

You act like I’m not a human being who can or will make a damn mistake.

” I cross my arms over my chest and hold her gaze.

I can see the freak-out brewing behind her eyes.

3…2…1

Suddenly, she gets up from her seat. “You know what? You are just ungrateful. I can’t believe I raised you to be this way. I’ve given up so much for you and you should just trust that I know what’s best.”

She grabs her purse and stalks off, leaving me with my jaw on the floor.

I’m ungrateful? All because I want to be treated like your daughter and not an employee?

She just wants me to do what she wants and blindly follow her life plan for me because she knows best? My happiness be damned?!

My appetite has left the building, and that’s a good thing since I didn’t get to finish cooking. I trash what was supposed to be my dinner and open the fridge for a bottle of water. Spotting an open bottle of prosecco, I grab it, forgoing a glass, and head straight to my room.

I let out a huff once I’m settled back on my bed. Grabbing my phone from the bedside table, I pull up the app to search for an apartment.

I think mom and I need space away from each other. Maybe then things will get better? I’ll be able to set better boundaries with her when our lives aren’t so entangled .

There is nowhere for me to escape her. She’s able to cut me down, then sit across the table from me and I’m supposed to act like it didn’t happen? From my friends, to my career, to who I date. Everything I do is wrong.

Why can’t she just let me be?

The only way to make her happy is to do as she says, and I can’t do that. I refuse.

Scrolling through the app, I find a few apartments that I’m interested in and save them. I need to get a budget together so I can see which would be the most cost effective.

Swiping to my home screen, I see two missed text messages. One is from mom and the other is from Trevor. I click on his name.

Trevor: Make it home okay?

Sophia: I did, thanks.

Reaching for the bottle of wine, I take a few sips, waiting to see if he’ll respond. When he doesn’t, I put the tv on and stew on my conversation with mom.

Next thing I know, the bottle is half empty from where it started. I need to slow down since I’m drinking on an empty stomach.

I check my phone to see if Trevor texted back. He hasn’t.

I just need to get this off my chest. The need to say it out loud so I can move on rather than sit and stew.

Hitting the record voice note on the message, I go through what happened and how I’m feeling.

As I place my phone down next to the bottle, I accidentally bump it, spilling the last bit of wine.

I rush to my bathroom to grab a towel to clean the wine off the rug.

Yup, it’s time for bed.

With the towel in the laundry basket, I lay down in bed, but not before plugging my phone onto the charger.

Shit. The voice note sent to Trevor. I can’t help but smack my forehead. At least he’s someone I trust. I wouldn’t have recorded that in his message thread if I didn’t.

I set my alarm and snuggle into the comforter, letting sleep take me .

The blaring sound of my alarm wakes me with a jolt. I silence it and stretch in bed before sitting up. Taking my phone off the charger, I go look at the weather when I see Trevor texted me back after I fell asleep.

Trevor: That’s really fucking shitty. I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I’m here if you need anything.

Trevor: picture You should see yourself through my eyes

I stare down at the photo of me. This must be the picture I saw him taking at the summer barbecue when I was on the balcony. The sun hits me just right so that my olive skin is glowing and the smile on my face is genuine. Much like the one I’m sporting now.

Trevor makes me feel so damn good about myself.

It's a drastic change from the way my mom makes me feel. There isn’t anything I don’t like about him.

Sometimes I get the feeling he feels the same way.

I just don’t know if I could ever make the first move because he’s the closest friend I have, and I’d never want to lose that.

Sophia: Morning. You’re an amazing photographer.

Taking one more glance at the picture, I save it to my camera roll and get out of bed to prepare for the day, hoping Trevor will be at the office.