Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter #2) - Melanie Martins Page 0,123
like, everyone else thinks your relationship with your godfather is okay, and I just don’t share the same opinion.”
“And that’s why you decided to be disrespectful at lunch?” I ask, totally baffled.
“It was dumb, I know. What can I say? I’m only human.” He might be only human, but the way he downplays his attitude toward me and my fiancé still remains problematic. “Can you forgive me? I swear I’ll never say a word about him again.”
A part of me wants to give him another chance, but the truth is I’ve already done that before and Matthew hasn’t changed. After all, friendship is first and foremost about treating your friends with respect—even when you don’t agree with them. Despite knowing I can’t go to his birthday weekend even if I wanted to, I remain undecided about what to tell him regarding the event, so I give him a polite smile and say, “Okay, I’ll think about it and let you know.” I will text him later on in the week and find an excuse to skip it.
Then I hear a knock on the door, and after ending the call with him, I shout for the person to come in.
Mom quietly steps into the library, her face unusually serene and calm. She stands still right past the doorway, her posture hesitant. “Um, your dad is not coming home tonight, so I thought maybe we could go out and have dinner together?”
And here we go again. I always thought Dad was the most stubborn of the family, but Mom has clearly dethroned him by now. Jeez, she really doesn’t give up. But as I’m tired of our constant arguments, I simply say, “I’m still studying…”
“Oh, I know, sweetie. I’m just saying later on, maybe in two hours.” Since Mom sees me hesitating, she adds, “Janine already left, so there is nothing prepared.”
“I see…” My gaze drifts away as I try to think of another way to politely decline.
But since I’m not finding any, Mom says, “Um, maybe we can go to Jean-Georges. Your dad told me the food is excellent there.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t go out during the week.” I try this one, but she doesn’t seem much convinced.
“We can eat here if you prefer.”
Letting out an exasperated breath, I know I’m coming up against a brick wall. “What about me?” I ask, looking her in the eye. “Have you thought about what I want for once?” Mom is totally mute, blinking twice at my reaction. “Of course not, because all that matters are your own selfish desires.” Head shaking, a chuckle escapes me as I think about how true this is. “Jeez, you’re so selfish that it hurts.” I pause, gauging her reaction. But there is none. “Not once have you asked me what I want in life, not once.”
“I don’t think having dinner with my own daughter is asking for the moon.”
My jaw drops at her remark. I just pointed out the fact that she doesn’t care about what I want in life, but she’s still focused on her damn dinner? “Wow…” Nodding thoughtfully, I let that reality sink in, and I say in the most distant way possible, “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to have dinner with you.”
“We didn’t go ahead with the tracking chip, Petra.” Her observation freezes my heart on the spot. We’ve now moved on to eventual threats? Is that what she means? “I’ve been very patient and kind with you. I even let you spend time with Emma last night.” Oh, because the next step will be forbidding me from seeing my friends? Like those ultra-secured prisoners? It’s clear as water that if I want to remain chip-free and be able to see Emma again, I’ve got to bow to Mom’s desires. And since I can’t risk not going to Emma’s this Friday, I ask, “Where were you thinking for dinner?”
A wise man once said, “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” Okay, granted—this wise man might simply be Michael Corleone from The Godfather II, but his words have never resonated so well with me as tonight when I’m about to go and have dinner with my number-one enemy: Mom. Needless to say, she is over the moon about taking me to one of those fancy Michelin-starred restaurants on the Upper West Side. A restaurant I assume Dad must come to frequently.
“Was it Dad who recommended this place to you?” I ask as we sit at our table.