Page 5 of Charity's Torment

I encircled my arms around his waist and gave him a crushing hug. “Me too. Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Cupcake. I’ll see you next week for dinner.”

I watched him climb into his cruiser and rush away.

Chapter 2

Momstood by the trash can, scraping off the dishes when I plodded back inside. “Would you mind gathering up the leftovers?”

I nodded slightly and took out the Tupperware from the cabinet. “So, tell me about this Christopher fellow?” I asked.

The more information I had about him beforehand, the easier it would be to turn him off from me, and she couldn’t blame me. It wasn’t my fault we weren’t compatible and wouldn’t want to see me again.

My mother’s eyes lit up, and she turned to stand beside me. I spooned the food into its suitable container as she told me about this blond man she met at bible study.

“He’s charming and personable. He owns a coffee shop, and he’s agreed to meet you for coffee tomorrow morning.” I stifled a groan. I don’t know why she does this. It completely goes against her fear of rejection. She wants me to date people. But the moment I do, she freaks out and thinks I don’t love her. It’s a vicious cycle I hate repeating.

“Mom, how did you know I don’t work tomorrow morning?”

“Oh, because I have your schedule.”

I’m thinking I better keep a closer eye on her. I would post a fake one up on my fridge every month, and the sneaky thief must have seen it last time she visited. Remind me again why I have it up there?

I finished and placed them in the fridge, then turned on the sink, filling it with scalding, soapy water.

“Well, what shop is it?” I scrubbed a plate, letting the suds and water encompass the dish and my hands. My palms turned red, and I accepted the pain.

“Break.”

“Break what?”

“Just Break.”

“That’s confusing.”

“It’s simple, I like it. It reminds me of breakfast.” She took the plate, rinsed it, dried it, and placed it on the rack beside me.

This place must be new, I’ve never heard of it before. The Moreno family handles most property deals in the city, so they must know of the shop. “What time am I meeting him?”

“Eight sharp.”

Grumbling, I said, “Mom. Not everyone is a morning bird like you. I need sleep.” Even though Randall taught me to overcome obstacles with little to no sleep, it didn’t mean I wanted to do it voluntarily.

I pulled the plug on the sink and watched the water swirl down the drain. “It’s good for you to get up early and greet the sun. Say your prayers and do your devotions.”

“Eight is the rush hour in a coffee shop. Did he suggest it or did you?”

My wonderful, overbearing mother. It was hard to say no to her. She had a way about her that commanded conformity, much like Luca, but without the fear of death. Although I’m sure if she stared at you long enough, your head would detonate.

“He agreed, and that’s all you need to know. Just be there and meet him. You’ll like him.” She patted my shoulder, then wiped down the table.

“That’s what you said about the last one,” I murmured under my breath.

“What was that?”

“I said, I need to get to bed then since someone forced this ungodly time on me,” I said, scowling, then pecked her on the cheek.

“Please drive safe. Those bikes are death traps.” Her body trembled with fear.

---