Love That Fly Away

My so called life

Mom was busy in the kitchen, making breakfast for everyone, while Dad, as usual, was scrambling to find his socks. He was late for the office again, and my so-called sister was glued to the TV, lost in yet another rerun of her favorite show.

Ugh... how can someone be obsessed with repeat telecasts?

Yeah, she loves to watch the rerun of every single show. It baffles me.

Breakfast was finally ready, and Mom called out for us to help her in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Mom..." I said, walking in slowly.

"Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well last night?" she asked with her usual concerned look.

"Yes, Mom..." I lied, hoping to avoid another lecture.

"You know, I’ve told you so many times to stop using your phone late at night," she said in that familiar tone—half frustration, half love.

"I wasn’t using my phone, Mom... trust me, please," I said, giving her my best forgive-me look.

Before she could respond, Dad’s voice boomed from the hallway, "Can we talk about her sleep later? I’m running late!"

"Coming!" we all replied in unison, hurrying to the dining table.

As we sat there, eating in silence, I wasn’t sure what prompted Mom, but out of nowhere, she started talking about my marriage.

Here we go again...

Ever since my breakup, I had lost all interest in discussing marriage. It used to be one of my favorite topics, but not anymore.

"You know, Rania, you should really start thinking about marriage. You’re 22 now, and you wouldn’t want to be an old bride, would you?" Mom casually said, not even looking up from her plate.

"Mom, I’m just 22! And for the record, I’m not interested in anyone right now. Besides, I can’t imagine doing an arranged marriage. So, let’s just drop it," I replied, trying to mask my frustration.

"But, sweetheart, you have to marry someday... trust me, your dad and I will find the perfect guy for you. Parents know what’s best for their children," Mom said, her eyes soft but determined.

"Mom, I don’t want to talk about this right now, please," I said, trying not to sound too irritated.

For some miraculous reason, she let it go. Dad hurried off to the office, and Mom disappeared into the kitchen, leaving just me and my sister, Ahana, at the table.

"You should really move on, you know. Stop using Mamma as an excuse," Ahana said, turning to me with a hint of impatience.

"Hmm... I’m trying," I muttered, not meeting her gaze.

"He was such a jerk," she said, her face tightening with anger.

"Please don’t... I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t even want to curse him anymore," I replied quickly, hoping to end the conversation. I didn’t need another reminder of the hurt he’d caused.

"Okay! Just take care of yourself, and talk to me if you ever need anything... I’m here," she said, reaching over to hold my hand gently.

"Thanks, babe. I love you," I said, smiling at her with genuine warmth.