Happy ever ... after

Chapter 21

The summer holiday had started, leaving the tube much quieter and the office somewhat calmer as many parents had chosen that time to use their annual leave and stay at home with their children. For those who remained at work, it was an excellent opportunity to catch up on any backlogs or deal with forgotten issues. For Emily, this meant better days in the office and less stress altogether.

For the first time in several weeks, she could also enjoy free time in the evening. It felt like a luxury. She finally finished a book she'd started over a month ago and quickly started another one. Having nobody with her, no man to please, she planned a nice shopping spree on Saturday afternoon, right before going to her parents. It had been so long since she'd gone to town, she'd almost forgotten the shops she used to visit. An avid reader, she regularly raided the shelves of her favourite bookstore in Piccadilly. There was something soothing about people who only existed on paper. No harsh judgments, no awkward questions, no forced social interactions. Paper heroes were often easier to deal with than real people. For many weeks, months even, Emily had felt compelled to interact with reality much more than she would usually feel comfortable. Her life had changed several times since leaving her parent's home, and she barely recognised it anymore. It was time to recover her lost habits.

Feeling much more comfortable in her body than she had in recent years, she applied some make-up, polished her nails, tied her hair up, put on a flowery skirt and a new, brightly-coloured tank top, which shocked her parents out of their wits when they opened the door.

A mixture of guilt and duty had fundamentally driven the decision to visit, but when they smiled at her, and her mum gave her the tightest of hugs, she realised how much she had missed them. And that was even before the delicious and enticing smell of chicken curry assaulted her nostrils. Her mum had prepared her favourite dish, to add to the welcome-home feeling.

'It's nice to see you! You look so, so...' Her mum could not quite express it, so her dad came to the rescue.

'Radiant! And so happy.'

Emily looked at them both with a newly discovered tenderness.

'I'm sorry I didn't come to see you sooner. Life's been so hectic lately.'

'Don't apologise; you're here now. Your room is ready if you want to put your things upstairs.'

'Thank you.'

'I didn't touch anything; everything is there exactly as you left it.'

She thanked her mother who was already going back to the kitchen to check on dinner and then climbed the stairs. Her room was indeed as she had left it, except probably cleaner and less cluttered. Something was comforting about seeing her old room as she remembered it, but somehow it also had the aura of a shrine to her past. Her mother probably still expected her to come back – she was not letting her go so easily. It would have been better for her parents to use the extra room for their own purposes – maybe a reading corner, an office, anything that would be useful to them, and a sign of them accepting she was now gone.

Dinner was promptly served, confirmed by the usual shout coming from the kitchen. Yes, she had missed that too. Funny how this annoying habit of her mother's screaming "dinner's ready!" was today welcomed as a good old family ritual. It was certainly not that she regretted leaving, not at all, but they helped to ground her, reminding her of where she came from. Her parents were part of her identity, and she was now mature enough to accept it.

The dinner conversation started a little tense, as if no one dared to speak. Everyone was afraid to say the wrong thing, to raise a forbidden topic. Emily talked about work, but mostly to fill the silence as she didn't want to worry them about potentially losing her job. Her father asked about the apartment, and she replied it was all fine. Then she thanked her mother for making her favourite curry. Eventually, she decided it was time to tackle a more delicate subject. She wanted to let them know what had been going on in her life. She owed them at least that much.