A Little Bit of Sugar

Chapter 22: Wednesday - Molly

"Another pancake dear?" My mom asked, plopping my empty plate with another fluffy golden disc. They sure weren't like Hunter's buttery croissants but they were the best thing you can find in Kitchener, Ontario.

Hunter.

I squeezed my fork tightly at the thought of him, anger bubbling inside me until it simmered down to just plain disappointment.

He was the only man that made me my heart skip. I had thought he was complex with many layers, he was the famous layered cake he made every Wednesday for the café. Each layer held another intricate flavor that exploded inside your mouth with powerful impact. I wanted to discover every layer of him, understanding his mind but he was just the sheet cake I made for my dad's birthday. A plain cake that everyone enjoyed but not necessarily was their favorite because it was one dimension.

He was an asshole.

A dick that promised me he wouldn't hurt me but caused me the most harm.

"Something wrong?" My dad asked, leaning forward into the table. My mom watched me as well, clearly interested in my mental health and well-being knowing that I was out of a job and I had returned home after unsuccessfully breaking into the big city. If only they knew that my battle was no longer finding a job but keeping my sanity since the breakup.

"No." I shook my head, forcing myself another bite. I've hardly eaten since I've gotten back and my mom started to notice. Last night, I heard her talk to dad about how little I've eaten and how the job search must be really worrying me out. The truth was I was starting to feel nauseous at the thought of food and lost my appetite. Deciding it was best to not worry my parents anymore, I continued to shovel food into my mouth, fighting back the urge to vomit.

"We were talking." My mother pulled out a chair and sat in front of me, looking thoughtfully at my dad before continuing. "About how we have some money saved up..."

"Mom." I grounded out. "I'm not taking your money."

"It'll be enough for you to invest in something more substantial." She finished, not letting me cut her off. "It'll be your choice. Another degree to help you find a better job or even to open a small business so you can start one on your own."

"For fuck sakes!" I raised my hands above my head, allowing them to fall back down to my lap. "I'm not going to start my own business—"

The sound of the doorbell cut me off.

"I'll get it." I needed a break from the conversation anyways. Backing out of my chair, I threw open the door, fully expecting it to be the mail man delivering a package for my mom, only to find the one man I never thought I would see again.