Page 73 of Worth the Wait

Instead of dreading that confrontation, I found myself not caring in the slightest. This was my life, and I wasn’t going to live it for anyone else. Not my mother. Not Frederique. And not for a staff of people that I barely, if even, knew.

“Nah. Her favorite daughter will still be here, so she’ll be fine.”

“She does like me best,” Sarina said, and that made me chuckle out loud.

“You can have her,” I said almost gleefully as a small flicker of hope started to blossom inside of me.

The two of us rode the elevator up to our mother’s floor and wheeled our luggage down the hallway. I opened the front door, and when we entered, the first thing we saw was her face as she sat in the kitchen, looking bored.

“You’re back!” She jumped up, hustled over to Sarina, and pulled her into a hug before spinning her around to look her over. “Ugh. Was it awful?”

Sarina flinched and removed herself from our mother’s grip. “Was what awful?”

“That Sugar Mountain. Isn’t it the tiniest, most backward place you’ve ever seen?” She sounded so disgusted, and I felt myself growing more than a little angry.

“No. It’s really charming. I loved it,” Sarina said, and my mother’s face instantly soured.

“And I’m moving back,” I said before I could change my mind.

“Of course you are.” Her eyes raked the length of my body like the disappointment I clearly was to her. “I knew this trip was going to ruin your future.”

I sucked it up. My mother was someone I didn’t really know and never truly had. Whatever her deep-rooted issues were, they weren’t about me, and I refused to take responsibility for her behavior. If she wanted to hate on Sugar Mountain or my dad, she could do it alone. I would never be a part of that.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I really do appreciate it. But I want to go home now. I want to be happy. And I can never be that as long as I stay here.”

“You saw that boy, didn’t you?” The absolute disdain was written all over her face.

“Patrick?” Sarina asked with the world’s biggest grin on her face. I knew she had done it to make our mother even further enraged. “What a gem of a human. He’s probably the best guy I’ve ever met,” she continued, and I thought our mother might blow a proverbial gasket.

Mother growled, “Those O’Gradys think they’re so special.”

“They are if you ask me,” Sarina continued. “Hot as hell too.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up and came out of my mouth. They were hot. Patrick especially.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back home, where you belong, Sarina. I’m sure there’s a lot you need to catch up on. I noticed you barely posted while you were gone, and I’m sure that’s not good for business. You’re asocial mediainfluencer. You need to actually post on it.”

“I know how to do my job, Mother,” Sarina snapped.

“Well, you’d never know it, if these last few days were any indication.”

Sarina looked more annoyed than I’d ever seen. “Do you want me to help you pack?” she asked, directing everyone’s attention back toward me and the statement I’d made about leaving.

“No, thank you. I need to make a couple of phone calls and give notice at the restaurant. I don’t have that much stuff here anyway.”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving.” Sarina stepped toward me and pulled me in for a quick hug before whispering, “I’m so happy you are,” low enough that our mother couldn’t hear.

“She doesn’t belong in this city, Sarina. She’s not like you and me,” my mother stated with zero emotion in her voice, and I winced slightly with her words before steadying my emotions.

Her reaction was only further reinforcement that I was doing the right thing. If my decision had impressed her, then it would have been proof that I’d fallen too far from the person I used to be.

“Thank you again, Mother. For letting me stay here and for pulling whatever strings you pulled to get me into cooking school. I know you didn’t have to do any of that, but I’m grateful for your help.”

She interrupted before I was finished, “If I’d known you weren’t going to use any of it, I wouldn’t have done it. What’s the point of giving you this training if you’re just going to run back to Sugar Mountain with it? No one there can appreciate the skills you’ve acquired. So much wasted talent.”

I could have argued each statement she’d made, but there was no point. And honestly, I didn’t care to. Mother wouldn’t stop talking until she had the last word. And she needed to feel like she was right, so I let her.

“I have a couple of phone calls to make,” I said before turning my back to them and heading toward my bedroom, where I could have some privacy.

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