Temper (Knights of Fury #3) - Chantal Fernando Page 0,76
I love you any less.”
She sits there silently, sniffling. “I don’t know, Abbie. I don’t think that this is the best idea for you. You can finish your degree here—you don’t need to move anywhere for a man. Why can’t he move here to be with you if he wants to be with you so badly? Why do you have to make all of the changes?”
“I want to.” I try to get through to her. “I love it there. I’m done with this small town. I want to be in the city. I’ve made new friends there, and it just feels like where I need to be right now. I know you hate change, but I’ve realized that I don’t. I embrace it.”
There would be absolutely no point asking Temper to move to this backwards town. I want to escape here, and I don’t know how to get her to understand that without offending her.
“I love you, Mom, and I love Ivy, and that’s not going to change. Me wanting to move and do my own thing doesn’t mean that I’m going to just forget my family,” I say, keeping my tone calm and gentle.
I can see her mind working. “When do you plan on leaving?”
“I don’t know yet, maybe in a week or so? You guys don’t need me at Franks anymore, Mom, you’ve got it all covered. You’re not in bed resting anymore. You’ve sorted yourself out, and I’m so proud of you for doing that. I think me being gone was good for you, too, because you had to become a little more independent without me here looking after you. I just need to pack my stuff, and I’ll enroll in college for next semester.” Finishing my degree will be an absolute dream for me.
“A week?” she asks, scowling. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Abbie. I’ve been so stressed without you here, and now you’re going to tell me that you’re moving away permanently? I just don’t know how I’m supposed to be happy that my daughter is moving away from me. The crime in L.A. is off the charts—I was watching the news while you were gone, and it’s not a safe city to be in. So many things can go wrong.”
“So many things can go right, too. I’m living just out of L.A., Mom, so I’m not going to be in the hustle and bustle every day. You’re making it personal, when it’s not,” I say, wishing she would just be happy for me. “I know that you feel anxious, but it’s not fair for you to project that on me.”
“How is it not personal?” she asks, shaking her head. “You’re leaving us. That’s personal. And I’m taking medication for my anxiety, Abbie. I just don’t want my firstborn child to move away. Surely that’s understandable?”
“Mom, she’s twenty-eight, not sixteen,” Ivy says, walking down the stairs and catching the end of our conversation. “You can’t guilt trip her into staying here. That’s not fair. She’s old enough to live her life how she wants it; it’s her life, not yours.”
Thank God for baby sisters.
“This has nothing to do with you, Ivy. Your sister has changed so much in the time she’s been gone. Imagine if she moves there! We won’t even recognize her when she gets back.”
Okay, that cut a little.
“It’s called personal growth, Mom. She’s growing into a better person. Stop trying to hold her back. And this has everything to do with me. I want to see my sister happy, and you should want to see Abbie happy too, even if it’s not with her living under your roof,” Ivy says, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m going to go and visit with Abbie, so guess what? Sometimes you’re going to have this place to yourself. Maybe you should take note and live a little, go on a vacation, go on a date, stop being so scared of the world all of the time. Maybe choose a man better than a drug dealer this time, though.”
And there it is, the elephant I’ve been avoiding, but one apparently Ivy has no problem bringing up as a dig.