Page 42 of Julia.

It takes an immense amount of willpower to not crumble under my mom’s scrutiny and say the rest of my piece, but I have no other choice. Not if I want to get my way for once. “Well, we’re thinking of...you know,” I have to pause, my pulse racing, “Taking the relationship to the next step,” I say, choosing my words carefully.

“And what does that mean? What next level are you referring to?” My mother’s voice is sharp and she leans closer, her forearms resting on the table.

I can see the disapproval in her eyes, and it makes me feel small and vulnerable. I know I shouldn’t let her opinions affect me so much, but it’s hard not to care what your own mother thinks of the man you love. I take another sip of my drink, hoping that it will give me the courage to speak my mind.

“The next step, meaning connecting our families. But I think you knew that already.” I deadpan, and Mom’s expression goes taut.

“You mean getting engaged?” At this point, Mom has no care for her volume, and it’s not only me who jumps at her words. Everyone around us does, too. “Julia, for fuck’s sake!" she exclaims, her face turning red with anger.

My heart sinks. I had hoped that this lunch would be a chance for my mother and me to reconnect, to find some common ground, but instead, it seems to have only made things worse. I can feel the weight of her disappointment crushing down on me, threatening to drown me in a sea of regret.

“Mom! I won't hear it again,” I insist, feeling a surge of frustration. “Whether you like him or not, this is the man I want to be with. So get over it!”

As I finish speaking, our meals arrive, and the waiter places them carefully on the table, looking frightened and ready to be far away from us. I clench my fists in my lap, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside me. This is it. I've said my piece. Now it’s up to my mother to decide what to do next.

Any hope inside me dies and is replaced by fearful adrenaline as my mother stands up abruptly, her voice rising with each word.

“What a brainless idiot you can be sometimes,” she spits out, her words like venom. “The divorce with your father didn't teach you anything, hm?” I can feel my face getting hot with anger and shame as she rants. Why does she always have to bring up the past like that? Can’t she see that I’m trying to move forward with my life?

I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face. How could she say something like that? My father’s infidelity has nothing to do with me or my relationships. But before I can even open my mouth to respond, my mother has already dropped her napkin on the table and stormed out of the restaurant, grabbing her bag and stomping out, her heels clicking on the tile floor and echoing in the quiet that her words have wrought.

I sit there for a moment, stunned and hurt, as the other diners look on with curiosity. I watch her go, silence pressing on my ears, miserable and so incredibly embarrassed that it’s hard to breathe. At first I can’t move, staring blankly at my untouched plate of food. My appetite is gone, replaced with a gnawing feeling of sadness and frustration. Why can't my mother see how happy Sebastian makes me? Why is she so stubborn and unwilling to accept my choices?

Then, in a flash, shame fades enough for me to gain control of my body again. I gather my things and leave as well, the taste of anger and sadness lingering in my mouth. Another failed attempt to connect with my mother, another reminder of how little she understands me.

Once I’m outside it feels like I can breathe again, and I sink down onto a wooden bench, a hand pressed against my chest as I try not to cry. I can fear hot tears welling up behind my eyes, threatening to fall and embarrass me more, and I breathe in and out as slowly as possible to keep from doing so.

On a whim, I reach into my bag and pull out the tabloid I had brought with me, flipping to the page with the photo of Sebastian and I. Gabi had let me take it without complaint, and I'm grateful, because the photo of Seb and I twirling under the ballroom lights brings me a sense of peace that makes it possible to get control of myself after my mother’s outburst. I trace my finger over the glossy image, feeling a sense of longing and nostalgia. What I would give to go back to that night…

Just then, my phone rings, and I see that it’s Sebastian calling. Tears rise in me again, but this time, in relief. Oh, even just seeing this man’s name on my phone screen reminds me how worth it he is. My heart lifts at the sound of his voice as I answer, and I can't help but smile. “Hey, how’s everything going?” I ask, trying my best not to let any of my sorrow bleed through.

“I'm about to board my plane,” he informs me, his voice so comforting, “and I already miss you like crazy.”

My smile widens, and I feel a warmth spread through my chest. “Have a safe flight, and, um, I miss you just as much.” My voice is filled with affection, but a little sniffle escapes me as I can’t help but still be affected by the fight I just had with Mom.

“Are you okay, Julia?”

Pushing back my tears, I nod, and take a few deep breaths to steady myself and make me sound less overwhelmed. “Yes, just Mom being Mom, but don’t let me keep you. We can talk about it later.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Gosh, I’m so sorry. I—”

“It’s not your fault, really,” I interpose immediately, cutting him off. “Please, enjoy your flight and send my regards to your dad.”

There’s a short silence before Sebastian finally decides to move on and drop the subject. “Alright, I’ll text you as soon as I land.” I can hear the sincerity in his tone causing my lips to twitch into a smile.

I hang up the call and hold the phone in my hand as I contemplate what to do now. Part of me wants to call my mother and force her to finish this talk, making the both of us face the demons that are haunting our mother-daughter relationship. Another bit of me wants to just go home, order takeout to replace the food that I left cooling on the table back inside the restaurant. But I’m restless, the unsettled feeling making me want to walk, so I call the driver to tell him that I will call when I’m ready, and make my way down the sidewalk.

It’s a gorgeous part of town, shops lining the streets, and the activity helps me burn off all the bad feelings swirling inside of me. As I walk down the streets of Amsterdam, I allow myself to get lost in the memories of the short amount of time Sebastian and I have spent together, savoring them bit by bit like the sweetest, richest chocolate.

It's not fair. I love Sebastian, and I thought maybe, just maybe, my mother would be able to see that and support me. But instead, she just proved once again that she’s incapable of putting her own biases and judgments aside.

I don’t know what to do next. All I know is that I need to get away from here, away from the hurt and disappointment. Maybe a long walk by the canals will be exactly what I need to help clear my head.

14

Sebastian

Our flight wasshort and uncomplicated, which was a boon, since everything else in my life seems to be as complicated as humanly possible. Now, as we pull up to Uncle Leopold’s estate where we will be staying for the next few days, I try to shut off the thoughts of everything back home and get myself focused on the hunt as well as doing my best to make sure that our business associates have a good time.

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