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Neither of the men budge. “We understand, madam. But we will need to physically remove you from the premises if you continue to refuse our request.”
“How dare you?! Who the hell do you think you are? I’ll have you know, that’s my—hey! Get your hands off me!”
By now, half the restaurant is watching in interest as the men do exactly what they said they would. She’s hefted into the air by the arms and carried out the front door.
Her body language screams, I’m nowhere near finished.
God only knows what she came here to start.
The moment the men successfully escort her away, Asya blows out a heavy breath through puckered lips. “I cannot believe they allowed that awful woman back in here!”
“Want me to speak with the owner?” Sofi volunteers.
Asya shakes her head. “No need. Not for now, anyway. If she can’t accept defeat, then maybe a discussion will be in order.”
“How can she even afford the membership here? I thought she and her husband were financially ruined.” Sofi takes a deep breath and does her best to shake off the encounter. “Whatever. We took out the trash, and that’s all that matters right now.”
I don’t know what to say. I’m not sure I can say anything at all. I’m frozen in my seat, unable to even pick up my water glass without feeling my fingers tremble.
Asya seems to notice something, because she leans across the table to squeeze my hand. “It’s okay, milyy. It’s all over. That woman won’t be allowed back in here, at least not while we’re here, so there’s nothing to worry about. Just enjoy your time with us. And,” she adds with renewed excitement, “enjoy this wonderful food!”
The waiter begins setting down our next course, a study in red cabbage, and I know I need to pretend like I have the appetite to eat.
My daughter kicks inside my stomach. She couldn’t care less about Grandma causing a scene. All she wants is food.
I just wish I could shake this horrible feeling.
The feeling that my mother is only about to get worse.
37
DAPHNE
The rest of lunch with Pasha’s family went by without a hitch. It got easier to unclench when Asya and Sofi launched into stories about all the mischief that Little Pasha used to get into.
Now, I’m back at work and trying to focus on the booking calendar.
Trying to forget that stomach-dropping moment when I thought my mother was about to blow everything up.
I don’t like lying to the Chekhovs. It’s not like I’m blatantly lying, per se, but omitting particular facts—like, oh, I dunno, my birth name—still feels like a form of deception. Especially when, every time I try to imagine telling Pasha the truth about my name, my relationship with the family he clearly despises…
Well, that spike in blood pressure isn’t good for the baby.
I grabbed another smoothie on my way back to work to continue calming my frayed nerves. I don’t know why I can’t shake this feeling, even though Sofi was swift to stop shit from happening before it even started. The smoothie helps.
At least, it would—if my mother hadn’t just materialized in my office doorway.
She looks at me. Doesn’t say a word.
Then storms across the room and slaps me across the face.
“How. Dare. You?”
I think the surprise of it hurts me more than the actual blow. Sure, my cheek stings and my eyes well up with tears, but nothing compares to the gut-wrenching pain that my own mother just struck her pregnant daughter.
More and more, she feels less and less like my mother.
“I saw you, you ungrateful little bitch.” Ophelia stabs her bony finger in my face. “Cuddling up to those… those… to them! Will you stop at nothing to humiliate your family?!”
