𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➺ 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓃 𝑀𝒶𝓎/𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃

𝟑𝟔 𝐍𝐨 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

A/N 

Here's another update for you all!

 Please check out the links in my bio, and make sure to leave your comments and thoughts throughout. I love reading them. 

Hope you're all doing well and staying safe and healthy! 

C x

/////

~no expectation~

December 1970 – Leeds, England.

Maria

I slouched in the oak wood dining kitchen chair, my denim jacket feeling rough under my restless fingers. It was as though I had a giant target painted on me, awaiting my mother's relentless onslaught of criticism. She huffed from the sink, scrubbing a plate with unnecessary force.

"I don't understand you, Maria Brennan," she vented her frustration.

"Yeah, well that makes two of us," I muttered under my breath, earning a fierce glare from my mother. I knew better than to provoke her, so I kept my mouth shut and braced myself for whatever was coming next.

"Don't start with me, Maria, seriously," she shook her head, slamming the clean plate onto the drying rack.

"I'm not," I replied, my tone not lacking defiance. "I just don't get why I can't decide which university I'm going to go to."

My mother turned around, drying her hands with a tea towel, and leaned against the table, looking down at me directly. The intensity of her gaze made me uncomfortable, but I refused to look away.

"Maria, I need you to understand something," she began, crossing her arms. "You have offers from Cambridge, Oxford, and Edinburgh. Don't you think you're making a tragic mistake by choosing Imperial College for something you won't even get a decent job with?"

"It's the only place I want to go," I said firmly, leaning forward with my elbows on the table.

"Events Management? Really? You have the prime opportunity to get a degree in Business and Economics, and you're blowing it to study Events Management?" Her disapproval was evident, and I felt a growing frustration bubbling within me.

"I don't want to do business, Mum!"

"Do not raise your voice at me, madam. You're not old enough that I can't put you across my lap and smack your arse," she warned sharply. I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to argue further.

"You would rather be organising things for other people instead of having things organised for you?" she asked with a mix of disbelief and disappointment.

"I don't know, Mum, maybe if you let me do music at college, that might have happened. But, no, I took every boring subject under the sun just to appease you and your high standards," I snapped, unable to keep my frustration in check any longer.

"Do not walk away from me when I'm talking to you, Maria!" my mother called after me as I stormed into the living room. My brother was sitting on the sofa, engrossed in a maths textbook.