Page 122 of Muddy Messy Love

I suddenly feel foggy—a little dizzy—and disconnected from my body, but somehow I manage to speak. “But I haven’t even banked the cheque yet.”

“Don’t answer right away.” Mum slides off her stool, preens the fall of her dress, and approaches me with a flowery smile. Her willowy arm snakes around my shoulders, and then she does the unthinkable. She hugs me. “Just think about it, okay?”

And with that, Mum bids goodnight.

The night drips by painfully slow as Mum’s loan request pecks at my brain like a vicious hen. I toss and turn in bed, failing to find comfort, so check the time on my phone—3:00 a.m. God, I wish Cole were here. He’d know what to do.

I picture him hunched over his desk, tired and pale. The poor guy. These big cases are brutal. But thinking about him instead of Mum for one glorious minute brings relief. Until the cycle restarts.

Twenty. Thousand. Dollars.

My chest aches, and bitterness rises like Poseidon from a stormy sea, his trident on fire with rage. Yet the anger can’t burn for long, since guilt swoops in and douses out the flames. Then comes the overwhelming grief. Mum’s kindness this past week was manufactured purely to aid her request. She wanted something. Sheneededsomething. I’ve been used—played—buttered up like a dumb bread roll.

Or have I?

Maybe the timing is coincidental—her request reasonable. Maybe it’s a test, and if I agree, things will be good between us forevermore. After all, Mum raised me. She ensured I had food, shelter, clothes, and an education. Maybe I owe her, and familyshouldhelp family.

Imagine the bad karma if I say no.Imagine the guilt. Will Mum hate me? Will our progress evaporate?

I kick my quilt and growl at the ceiling. Damn it, I had dreams for that money. I worked hard. I’m at the start of my adult life, still sponging off Beth, but at the cusp of launching a career.

Will Mum pay me back?Can I trust her?

Only broken, shallow sleep comes, but by sunrise, my decision is made.

Mum’s sitting on the velvet sofa, sipping a tall glass of lemon water, when I plod downstairs with my satchel. My tram comes in twenty-five minutes, and I was hoping she’d still be asleeplike usual, but no. Wide, expectant eyes follow my every step, giving me the distinct impression my think-about-it deadline has expired.

“Good morning, dear,” Mum says with a sugary smile.

Another endearment. Oh yeah—she definitely wants an answer now. Fuck it, I may as well deliver. I inhale a deep, weary breath and reply on the exhale as I make my way over. “Morning.”

Dumping my bag on the rug, I sink to the sofa opposite Mum and rub my knobbly knees while I mentally rehearse my speech one last time. Then I clear my throat. Here goes nothing. “I’ve had the chance to think about the loan.”

Mum’s face brightens, and she straightens her posture as if excellent deportment might favourably influence the outcome. “Yes, and?”

“Mum, I don’t want to jeopardise this new thing we have going on.” I motion between us. “But I also need to think of my plans and future. I’m really sorry, but I can’t lend you the money.”

Her expression drops along with her gaze. “You mean youwon’tlend me the money.”

I shake my head, trying to ignore her catty tone. “I’m sorry.”

She releases an Oscar-worthy sigh. “I knew you’d say no. I don’t know why I bothered to ask, frankly.”

“Don’t be like that. Please.”

“Like what, Avery Lee?” Her chin snaps up, revealing laser-sharp eyes. “Like a mother who, Lord forbid, expects not to be left in the lurch by her own children?”

“Mum,” I groan. “You’re asking to borrow twenty grand, not a hundred bucks.”

She scoffs. “I doubt it would make a difference. You’ve always been about one person only, Avery Lee, and that’s you.”

I curl my hands into fists, but hurt punches me in the stomach. “Don’t start attacking me just because you didn’t get your way.”I wrench my glare away before Mum sees too much. Fuck this. Fuck her. I collect my bag and stand, hooking the strap over my shoulder. I guess it was good while it lasted. “I’m going to work.”

But Mum isn’t done. She jumps up from the sofa to block my escape route and, with gritted teeth, stabs her pointer finger towards me. “I have a right to be angry. I gave up everything to raise you, you hear me? Everything!”

I throw my hands in the air. “You chose to have children. That doesn’t make us indebted to you for the rest of our lives.”

Disgust sours Mum’s face, but she casually strides closer, shortening the gap between us. “Do you know what you are, Avery Lee? A self-absorbed, cruel, and heartless bitch. There, I said it. It’s about time someone did.”

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