This story has been entered in The 2024 Wattys!
Alessia Amato has everything any girl could ever wish for. Money, fame, and beauty. So why is it that she's always missing something? Every time she thinks she's found the seed a romance might grow ou...
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Punctually walking into Golden Taste with a lump in my throat, I plaster on a broad smile, hoping to calm my mother's guaranteed rage with it. I spot the elegant woman sitting beside a table and I take a breath, readying myself for what's about to come.
She looks stunning with her perfect updo, not a hair out of place, and beige sweater. Her posture is impeccable and I subconsciously straighten my back.
Surprisingly I wasn't nervous to come here because of what I experienced here before. I guess I wasn't really thinking about it, having my mind preoccupied with this meeting about the mysterious arrangement. Even having to pass the spot where that disgusting man held me against the wall didn't discourage me as much as fearing my mother's anger.
I make my way towards her, the ruckus of the guests and waiters fades into the background as I focus on the woman's expression. Smile, Alessia, just smile. I don't stumble as she notices me but my heart does skip a beat. Keep smiling. However my smile disappears as her face twists into one of sadness. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrow and her lips tremble.
My steps immediately fall to a stop beside the table. Have I ever seen my mother cry? I don't think I have. Now, as she stands from her chair and covers her mouth with a dainty, manicured hand, I'm not sure how to react.
"How dare you?" The woman whispers, her teary eyes full of icy wrath. "How dare you, Alessia?"
"What...?" I'm left dumbfounded.
Angry? Yes, I imagined she'd be. But sad? Never. Anya Amato being sad is like an actor falling out of character.
"I am your mother. How dare you ignore me?" She furiously wipes away a tear from her sculpted cheek. "Can you imagine how scared I was?"
"I..." I take a hesitant step towards her.
"Sit down." My mother spits.
She doesn't have to tell me twice. I scramble into my seat and look up at her. She takes a breath and does the same. Her familiar scent attacks my nostrils and I'm filled with a sense of nostalgia.
"Why are you sad?"
"What do you mean why am I sad? My child runs away and I have no clue where she is! She doesn't reply to my calls and texts for two weeks and suddenly I see on the internet that she found herself a boyfriend." She scoffs as her head shakes.
Heavy guilt presses down on me and I struggle to keep eye contact with her. Fiddling with my fingers, I feel hot embarrassment colour my cheeks red. Her cold eyes swirl with disappointment.
"Him being her husband-to-be which she ran away from!" Her hysterical voice is full of disbelief while she grabs onto the table. My brows furrow as I try to understand her angry words but it's like my brain refuses to function.
