Chapter 1 – The Man at Mom’s Table
The man my mother planned to marry looked about my age. That was all I could think as I stood in her dining room holding a bottle of wine I could barely afford. Mom was glowing. Aaron, a dark-haired pastry chef with a trimmed beard, politely offered his hand. Instead of taking it, I blurted, “Are you serious?”
My parents’ divorce had brought me relief rather than heartbreak. I loved them both, but years of arguments and heavy silences had worn everyone down. Later, when Mom admitted how lonely her evenings felt, I encouraged her to meet someone. So when she called, thrilled about a boyfriend, I wanted to celebrate. I just had not imagined someone from my own generation.
I was already under pressure. Every spare dollar went toward my dream of opening a restaurant, and even that wine meant a week of instant noodles. Seeing Aaron beside Mom triggered every fear I had about someone exploiting her security. “Is this about her money?” I demanded.
Mom’s smile disappeared. Aaron calmly said he loved her, but I kept pushing until Mom announced that he had proposed and their wedding was two months away. I ordered them to break up. She refused and gave me a choice: calm down and share dinner or leave. I chose the door. “If a stranger matters more than your daughter, fine,” I said. Mom did not chase me, and that hurt more than anything.
