Chapter 141

Adrian

My previous meeting with Sebastian has left me feeling uneasy, off kilter. It has forced me to reflect on the choices that I have made in my life, but has brought me an immense discomfort that I have yet to deal with. There's only one place I know that can help me calm down and pull me back together, to make me feel like a human again instead of a pawn in somebody else's game.

The flowers of the nursing home’s garden smell delightful today. The sun is shining down through the opening of the building, and my mother sits on the white bench, the same spot. She is always in no matter what. Just seeing her, my body begins to relax and allow itself to calm down, knowing that with my mother, I am safe and nobody is going to try and hurt me while I am here.

I hide a bag of cookies behind my back, a dessert that my mother loves from her favorite bakery in the downtown District of the city, and I slowly walk behind her, not wanting to give away the surprise that I am here to visit her. Her hums are soft and gentle. They make me feel so much more calm, despite the turbulence that rage is on in my heart.

“Mom?” I ask with a smile on my face, slowly walking around her white metal bench.

My mother's face is shocked when she looks at me. Her eyes shoot open and a smile spreads across her face, delight etched into the muscles of her face. She claps her hands together and moves to sit up, but I am quick to stop her, placing myself in the empty spot beside her on the bench. I hold up the bag of cookies and give it a shake, the wrestling of the desserts catching her attention.

“I brought your favorite! Chocolate chip cookies from Deb’s on 24th!” I exclaim, not wanting to give away that I feel like death incarnate.

I don't want my mother to know that I am struggling so deeply in immensely with my engagement to Clara. She should not have to worry about me and instead worry about her own life here in the nursing home, to try and focus on getting better rather than saving her son from a stupid decision that he made. One that he made thinking would solve all of the problems in his life just to find out that more problems and troubles have been created.

“What’s the occasion?” my mothers asks before taking the bag. She opens it up and puts her nose to the opening, sucking in the sweet smells of the dessert, her smile growing even more. She turns to look at me, her smile growing if it were even possible.

“No, reason,” I say with a shrug, unable to hide the crack in my voice. I can only hope that she doesn’t hear it. “I just wanted to see my favorite person.”

My mother pauses. Her hand slowly removes one of the cookies from the bag, placing it on top of one of the napkins I brought with me. She turns to look at me, concerned, etched into her eyes, her smile slowly vanishing from her face as she listens to me speak.

Shit. She knows something doesn't she? Was it the voice crack? Did it give away my conflicted feelings towards the circumstances I find myself in my life?

“What?” I ask, trying to dissuade her from poking and prodding her way into the turmoil that I feel. “Is everything okay? Are you not allowed to have the cookies?”

“What's wrong?” she asks. Her question is simple yet blunt. Her voice is warm yet. I know that there is a seriousness behind her intention that I have to hold onto. “Are you taking care of yourself? Did something bad happen?”

My shoulders immediately shrug. I look away for a brief moment before turning back to her, letting out a sigh, gently shaking my head.

“No, mom, nothing bad happened,” I breathe out, diverting my gaze for a brief moment before turning it back to her. “I’m…engaged! Again! To Clara! You remember her, right?”

“Engaged?” My mother questions me, raising an eyebrow at the news. She looks shocked, unable to say anything else, as I slowly nod my head to confirm the news.

A tense silence falls between us. Neither of us are able to look at the other. Instead, we focus on the cookies in front of us, slowly picking apart the chocolate chips from inside the sugary goodness. Just as I am about to open my mouth to speak, my mother takes the opportunity.

“Are you happy?” she asks, our eyes meeting once again. “Are you happy with the choice that you have made, Adrian?”

I don't respond. How can I? All I know is that I am forever stuck with the choice that I have made, one that I never wanted to have in the first place, but know that I must suck up and deal with.

I look away, unable to meet her eyes again. I don't want her to worry about this because she should be worrying about herself, about living as long as she can. Maybe one day, Clara and I will give her grandchildren to dote on, to give her a new purpose in life as a grandmother.

“Adrian,” she breathes out. I'm still unable to meet her eyes. “If you cannot sit here and tell me that you were happy with the choice that you have made in proposing to this girl, then I do not think that I can support the marriage. I do not think that I can go to your wedding if you are not happy with your life.”

“Mom,” I turn and look at her, shocked by her reaction.

She holds up a hand to silence me. I fall quiet and stare at her, unable to look away from the wisdom shoes about to impart on me.

“Your happiness is my only concern in life,” she begins, “if you are not content with the girl you have chosen, one that has only ever been rude to me and the other people in your life, then I am not going to support it.”

Silence falls between us once again. I suck in a breath, unable to face the reality of the situation at hand, and grab the bag of cookies, pulling one out from the depths. I break it in half and past one of the sides to my mother.

“I am as happy as I can be,” I say, the truth hidden behind a veil, “and I want you to love Clara as much as I do. I am sorry that she was rude to you before, she was going through a lot just like I was.”

“It's still not an excuse to be disrespectful towards her elders,” my mother grumbles under her breath.

“I know it isn’t,” I slowly nod my head. My mother takes the other half of the cookie. “She will apologize for what she has done, okay? I know she feels bad about it. How about the three of us have lunch together?”

“Lunch?” my mother asks. She shakes her head. “I don't know, I haven't been feeling well lately.”

“We can do it here,” I speak with the hopes that she will agree.

My mother looks away for a brief moment. She turns back to me and gives me a simple nod, silently agreeing to this lunch.

“Thank you,” I say, watching as she bites down into the cookie.

“If I don’t see you with a smile on your face,” my mother is blunt, “then know that I will not support your marriage, okay?”

“I understand,” I suck in a breath, knowing that a miracle has to happen for this to work.