Chapter 32 Eleanor
ELEANOR
By the time I eased the front door open, the house was dark and still.
Thank God. No interrogation. No critique disguised as concern.
Just . . . quiet.
I got Ava tucked in bed before I slipped into my room, changed into pajamas, and slid beneath the covers. And despite the looming dread of tomorrow with the mother-sister gauntlet I knew was waiting, I went to bed smiling.
All I could think about was Alex. The way he’d held me so gently yet so sure. The way his lips fit against mine like they’d been made for me. How grounded I’d felt in his arms.
The knock that came at exactly 8:00 a.m. was sharp, clipped, and commanding.
“Eleanor. Brunch.”
I groaned quietly, scrubbing a hand over my face. Ava peeked into my room, hair tousled, still half-asleep.
“Come on, sweetheart,” I said softly. “Let’s go face the dragons.”
After a quick show, I got dressed and got Ava ready.
“Why do I have to wear a dress to go out to breakfast?”
“We are going for tea at a fancy restaurant. Your grandma and Aunt Stacy love it, so we’re going to be on our best behavior. If you don’t like the food, I'll grab you McDonald’s on the way home. Deal.”
“Deal,” she said with a little shrug.
When we entered the restaurant, my mother and sister sat at the table looking like they’d stepped out of a country club brochure with hair flawless, makeup impeccable, outfits crisp and expensive.
The table was covered in an over-the-top spread of quiche, fruit salad, scones, mini pastries, and topped off with fresh flowers in a silver vase.
“Ava, darling!” my mother trilled, rising just enough to lean in and kiss her head. “We were so proud of you last night. Weren’t we, Stacey?”
Stacey nodded with a saccharine smile. “You were wonderful, sweetheart.”
Ava blinked, then nodded once. “Thank you,” she said politely, then began picking at a scone.
Everything was painfully civil. Too civil. Like everyone was holding their breath.
The second Ava wiped her hands and excused herself to the bathroom, the entire atmosphere shifted.
Stacey reached for her mimosa. “So,” she said lightly, “Mom mentioned you’ve been . . . seeing someone?”
Ah. There it was.
My mother pressed her napkin to her lips. “We just want to understand your priorities, Eleanor.”
I forced myself not to flinch.
“My priorities are Ava,” I said. “Always.”
“And yet,” Stacey said with a tilt of her head, “there’s this boy.”
“Man,” I corrected before I could stop myself. “And we’re just spending time together.”
My mother sighed in that long-suffering way she’d perfected. “Darling, you need stability. Someone respectable. Someone who can support you and Ava. You’ve been through so much. We only want what’s best.”
“Exactly,” Stacey chimed in. “Running around with some . . . local boy is not it.”
Heat climbed up my neck, that familiar mix of shame and fury tightening in my chest. I stared down at my untouched plate. Fighting was useless. It always had been.
“So,” I said carefully, “you’re staying the weekend?”
My mother took a sip of tea. “The week, actually.”
Of course, she was.
I swallowed hard. “Okay.”
“I wish you would let me introduce you to a few men from my church,” Stacey said.
“Or why don’t we go to church tomorrow as a family. You can see if there are any nice men there. This is a pivotal time for you,” said my mother.
“And Ava,” Stacey added. “This could be a good first step.”
And I sat there, letting their words wash over me like needles. Because for now, until I had a plan, there wasn’t much else to do.
But under all of it, the pressure, the dread, the exhaustion, there was a quiet ember still glowing.
Alex. Ava. The life I was building. The life I wanted.
And that ember wasn’t going out. Not this time.
When Ava came back from the bathroom, everyone went back to their best behavior. At least they didn’t do this in front of her. That was something, I guess.
As we made it out to the van, I turned to Ava. “Chicken Nuggets?”
“Yes, please.”