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Chai circles my ankles, purring, and he may be holding onto the last thread of my sanity.
I don’t want to think about anything.
I want to turn my brain off and sink into an abyss of thoughtless nothing.
“Meda desperately needs a mother, though.”
Brow furrowing, I realize the dish is the cleanest it has ever been and get another. “What do you mean?”
“She was very rude.”
“What?”
Mom hums. “It’s clear she’s been raised by a single father who dotes on her. There was no discipline. He let her have whatever she wanted however she wanted it. Not once did he remind her to sit still. She interrupted conversation whenever she had something to say. And did you notice how she told her father he was talking too much?” She sighs as she wipes a serving bowl and tucks it into the cabinet. “Honestly, she reminds me of you when you were little.”
I turn to my mother, if I can even still call her that. “Um. Ow. Are you saying I was rude? I thought I was a good kid.”
“You were. So is Meda. But if nothing changes, things will be hard for her. You were my baby, and I spoiled you. I let you be hyper and ramble. I thought you were so fascinating when you were little that I didn’t want to curb your spirit. It was only after you started going to school and other mothers were constantly telling me how rude and controlling you were that I realized I may have messed up.”
“Controlling?”
“You’d make up elaborate games and then orchestrate them. When the other kids didn’t play right, you’d throw fits. You never really got along well with people your age. Even when you were practically a baby yourself, you wanted to help take care of the other babies and talk with the adults.” Mom pushes a few curls over my ear. “I like Meda, but she needs a mother who can help her so she doesn’t turn out how you almost did. Sweet, but spoiled a bit too rotten for her own good. Also, I think Pollux likes you…so…”
“Mom. No.”
“I’m just saying.”
Heat crawls up my neck as the slew of facts I’m still coming to terms with battle for purchase in my brain. Pollux is most likely a faerie. I am…something. And, you know, we’re soulmates. So that’s fun. I don’t even know what that really means. All I know is that I feel nauseous, and I can barely stomach what my mother is telling me right now even without all this date and marry him garbage.
“He’s beautiful,” Mom notes.
“I know that,” I mutter. I bet all the fae are beautiful. Actually, I know all the fae are beautiful. I had a movie night with a bunch of them, and they were all pretty. Heaven help me.
“You have so much experience with kids, and when it comes to being a parent, your father and I can help you. Pollux didn’t mention Meda’s mother at all, so I doubt you need to worry about living up to his first relationship. It most likely ended for a good reason.”
I mean, actually, Andromeda claims to have two mothers, and one’s a guy, so. Not sure how I can live up to Willow and Zylus. Who knows what Willow is, but a vampire cat is kind of a high bar. “Mom, please…” I murmur. “I’d rather not talk about this.”
“Didn’t you see the way he looked at you?”
“Yes.” I close my eyes, try to take a calming breath, but it’s impossible, because all I can see is the way he looks at me. In my dreams.
“Is there something I don’t know about?” Mom asks.
Yes. So much. “I think you’re just a little biased because he brought you flowers.”
She laughs. “They’re beautiful. And you know something?”
“Hm?”
“I dated a lot in my teens and twenties before meeting your father. He was the only one who brought my mother flowers.” She nudges me. “The way men treat mothers shows how they’ll treat a wife. Respecting all women and not just the ones a man is attracted to says a lot about their character. I like him. Do with that what you will.”
Well. Fantastic. Chalk that up to something else I have absolutely no idea what to do with…
?
I don’t make it up the sidewalk before Pollux is stepping out into the cold and closing the door behind him. My stomach dips low as I stop in between the tall, brown grass in front of his haunted manor. A chilling breeze rushes between us as I bundle myself up in my coat, arms crossed tight over my chest.
It’s late.
