Page 136 of The Match Faker

‘Hi, Mum. Happy anniversary!’ I handed her a gift bag and a silver helium balloon.

‘Thanks, darling! Your father’s in the living room. Go and say hello. He’s missed you. We both have.’ My heart fluttered. I wasn’t expecting a warm welcome.

I walked through the crowd, praying no one would want to stop and talk. Dad spotted me and came over.

‘Sweetheart! You made it!’ He pulled me into him. I wished I could rest my head on his shoulder and let him stroke my hair like he did when I was little.

I wanted to tell him how much I was missing Liam and hear him say that everything would be okay. Silly, really. I wasn’t a little girl anymore and Liam was gone. I needed to accept that and move on.

‘Of course I came!’ I said, holding back the tears. ‘I couldn’t miss your big celebration!’

‘Since the awards, you’ve been avoiding us,’ Dad shouted in my ear. It was difficult to hear over the music.

‘I-I…’

‘Come.’ He led me out of the room. ‘Let’s find your mother.’

Mum was in the kitchen, stirring a big silver pot.

‘Hello, you two!’ She smiled.

‘We need to have a chat with our daughter.’ He opened up the back door and I followed him into the garden.

Mum put the lid on the pot and a couple of minutes later she joined us, clutching a pile of coats.

‘Put these on!’ she demanded. ‘You’ll catch a cold.’ Right on cue a gust of wind hit me and I shivered. In hindsight, coming outside in just a knee-length dress and tights in November wasn’t a good idea.

We sat on the green plastic garden chairs on the paved area of the small garden. Mum and Dad kept them out all year round because sometimes, even when it was cold, they liked to sit outside and drink tea.

‘So about—’ Dad started.

‘I’m sorry I disappointed you,’ I jumped in. ‘At the awards.’

‘You didn’t disappoint us!’ Mum placed her hand on mine.

‘No,’ Dad added. ‘We were so proud.’

‘Proud? How can you be proud? I didn’t win!’

‘But, Mia’—my mum shook her head—‘look what you’ve done! You were brave enough to follow your dreams. Even when people around you, like us, told you to stay at the bank, you believed in yourself. You believed in your talent. You didn’t know anything about running a business, but you didn’t let that stop you. You went for it. And you help people find love and get paid for it. How amazing is that?’

‘Your mother’s right. When we saw that video on screen and heard all the lovely things your customers said about you, I was so proud.’

‘Me too,’ Mum added.

Dad leant over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I went to open my mouth and then closed it again.

I didn’t know what to say.

‘Th-thanks.’

‘I know we don’t say it often enough, but we love you. And we’re sorry if we haven’t been as supportive as we should’ve been. We were just afraid. As parents, we just want the best for our children, and we’re old-school. We’re not high-flying entrepreneurs like you. We’ve always played it safe. We’ve never been brave enough to do something like what you’re doing. And we projected our fears onto you. We’re sorry.’

Wow.

My gaze darted from Mum to Dad and back again. The look in their eyes said they were genuine.

I couldn’t believe it. They really were proud of me.

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