Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter #2) - Melanie Martins Page 0,116

to fill my mind with positivity and hope.

But two hours later, it’s not Janine who walks in my bedroom with the intention of waking me up. Nope. I recognize her steps and her morning ritual by heart. As I turn the light on and prop myself up on my elbows, I see to my greatest despair that it’s Mom.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Mom startles at the sound of my voice and stands still in the middle of my room. “I, um, I just wanted to wake you up…”

“I’m not a child, Mom! You don’t come in my room without permission,” I rebuke. “Only Janine can come in.” Since Mom doesn’t say a word, I add, “Even Dad knows that!”

“Alright, I’m sorry.” She doesn’t seem sorry though, just annoyed. “Um, do you have any plans for lunch? Maybe we could—”

“I have plans for lunch, yes.” I can’t believe after everything she’s done to me, she still believes I want to hang out with her. “Can you leave me alone, please?”

Mom doesn’t hide her disappointment, and her gaze falls to the floor as she thinks something through. Then she looks up at me again and tries to smile faintly, without much success. “Alright, um, have a great day. If you need anything, just let me know.” And she mercifully leaves my bedroom.

Once the class is over, and not knowing if Mom is still here in the house or not, I decide to invite Matthew to have lunch with me at the same Japanese restaurant he invited me to last time. I’m not sure if we will have a table, since I didn’t have time to make a reservation, but I hope they will recognize us and make an exception.

As Matthew and I leave the building, I see a woman smiling at me, blonde hair brushing her shoulders, Hermès purse hanging on her arm, wearing a gray coat and heels.

“Mom?” I forgot that this is my new reality now—stumbling upon my Mom when I least expect it.

“Hey,” Matthew greets her with a warm smile. “So nice that your Mom’s here.”

“Fantastic…” I mumble as she slowly walks in our direction. Since it’s the first time they’ve met each other, I make some basic introductions. “Mom, Matthew. Matthew, my mom.”

“I’m Tess Hagen.” Mom gives him a big grin and holds out a hand to shake his. “Petra has spoken fondly about you.”

“Mom…” I rebuke just as fast.

But Matthew remains just as excited. “Ms. Hagen, it’s such an honor to finally meet you. Welcome to New York.”

Oh jeez, I can’t help but roll my eyes at these two. And before this gets any weirder, I ask her, “What are you doing here?”

Mom simply gives me her sugary smile and says, “I’m taking you both to lunch.” Did she ask me if I wanted to? Of course not. Why bother?

“We’ve got other plans, sorry.” As I start walking, I notice that Matthew hasn’t moved a foot. “Matthew?”

“We can invite your mom. It’s alright, you know.”

As I don’t look very enthusiastic, Mom says, “We haven’t had one single meal together. I thought maybe we could go somewhere, the three of us.” Her tone is sweet and pitiful, but I’m used to it. I remain staring at her with total indifference. “Very well, guess I should keep going.” Yeah, you should. She takes her iPhone from her purse and starts doing something on it. Probably booking a driver or something.

“C’mon,” Matthew insists in a low voice. “She came all the way from Rotterdam for you.”

Leaning toward his ear, I say, “She is evil personified on earth.”

“Trust me, there is worse than her.” I huff instantly at his words. If he only knew… “Ms. Hagen, there is no need,” Matthew starts. “Petra and I would love to have you join us for lunch.” Liar.

Mom gives him her usual enthusiastic smile, although she knows perfectly well that’s not true. No wonder she’s into politics—she can play with people’s emotions like no one else. “How kind you are,” she praises. “Do you have any place in mind?”

Matthew doesn’t. I know him well. Until this year, he used to only eat at the canteen, and except for our lunch at Franchia Vegan Café, he normally eats either at my home or his. “Um, Petra?”

Shrugging my shoulders, I say, “I’m thinking Japanese.” I know she hates it.

“Perfect. Do we need a car?”

“I’ve got mine,” Matthew replies.

I instantly furrow my brows. “You drive?”

“Yep, sometimes.” He then puts a hand on my lower back,