I cried all the way home.
Between sobs, I directed the housekeepers to turn the house upside down. Childhood toys from the storage room, the grand piano
in the living room, a wooden box filled with movie and amusement park ticket stubs–I had them pull everything out.
A paper flower, preserved under an acrylic case, fell to the floor, its petals scattering Each petal was a love letter from a young
Adam, filled with the sincere, heartfelt confessions of a teenage boy
Suddenly, I felt a sense of release. I wiped the tears from my face.
Just then, my mother, alerted by the housekeeper, rushed home. The first thing she saw were my swollen, red–rimmed eyes. The
she saw the red handprint on my cheek and gasped. Her hands trembled as she gently cupped my face.
(Oh my god! My baby, who dared to hit you?!”
The dam of my composure broke. Fresh tears streamed down my face. “Mom, I don’t want to marry Adam anymore. I’m not marry-
ing him.”
I wailed, letting out all the hurt and frustration that had been building for weeks. Adam’s coldness and bias, Chloe’s constant taunts
and mockery–all of it came pouring out.
Hearing that I didn’t want to marry Adam was enough for my mother. Her face hardened. Without asking another question, she grabbed my hand and stormed out the door. After a series of violent knocks, Adam’s mother opened their door. She was still wiping
her wet hands on her apron, clearly in the middle of cooking.
“Look! Just look at what your son has done to my Jennal” my mother’s voice was thick with fury. “We agreed to this marriage bec ause we thought your husband was a respected professor and that you were a woman of culture and reason.”
“Then you told us your family was ‘traditional” and that Jenna had to give up her music to return to the home. My husband and I were already unhappy about that, but we let it go, thinking it was their life to live. And what’s the result? They’re not even married yet, and he’s already hitting her! She’s grown up without either of us ever laying a single finger on her..”
“What, you think our family is an easy target?!”
Adam’s mother looked mortified. “There must be some misunderstanding, please, don’t be so upset. I’ll call that boy down right
now to apologize to Jenna.”
“Don’t bother!” My mother didn’t care about misunderstandings. All she cared about was that her precious daughter had been hit.
“That’s it. The engagement between our two families is off!”
She dragged me home. Seeing the mess of memories scattered on the floor, she turned to the housekeepers, her face grim. “Why is this junk still here? Find a scrap dealer and sell it all for twenty bucks!”
Then she pulled me onto the sofa, resting her chin on the top of my head, comforting me just as she did when I was a little girl.
“My baby, you’ve been wronged. It’s okay, don’t be afraid. Mommy’s here.”
Breathing in her familiar, calming scent, my heart slowly began to settle.
