Chapter 36 Rule #36 Be honest with your mother. She might surprise you.
Freya
“Is everything okay, honey?” my mom asks as she emerges from the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel. I’ve been a wreck since leaving Julian’s apartment last night.
After coming back to the hotel with my mom, we talked for a bit before she claimed her jet lag was so bad she needed to go to sleep. But sleep was out of the question for me, so I ran straight to Amelia’s and cried on her couch until passing out.
Today, I pulled it together enough to take my mom sightseeing, but everything felt so hollow and empty. I just missed them every moment of the day, and the words I need to utter to my mom have been on the tip of my tongue from the Eiffel Tower to the Louvre.
That and regret. So much regret.
How could I have said those things to them? I was just caught up in the moment. The shock of seeing my mom messed with my head, but since sitting here with time to relive it all, I’m filled with shame.
Was I too hard on Julian? Should I have stayed for Archer? Did I run away too quickly? Do they even still want me?
“Freya,” my mom calls, pulling me out of my own head.
I glance up at her with expectation.
“You’ve been off all day, beti. Is everything okay?”
It’s now or never. The opportunity is right in front of me, and if I don’t take it, then maybe Julian was right to be mad at me.
“No, Maa,” I mumble as I move onto my knees, wringing my hands in my lap. My fingers twist around the emerald necklace hanging from my neck. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I’m sorry if this makes you upset or ruins your trip here.”
“You’re worrying me.”
I cover my face with my hands, wishing the world would just swallow me whole right now. “I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.”
“You can tell me anything, Freya. You know that.”
Oh God, this is awful. Why is this so hard? Surely, people have done far harder things in their lives. I moved to Paris alone. I built a restaurant from the floor up. I had sex on the Métro.
I can tell my mom that I’m in a loving relationship with two men.
After a deep breath, I muster all the courage I have, and I come out with it.
“Six months ago, I got stuck on an elevator with the two men you met back at Julian’s apartment.
We became fast friends, and then we quickly became more.
” For the first time since she came out of the shower, I look into her eyes.
“I am in a relationship with both of them. We are all in a relationship together.”
Her expression is blank for a moment, and I fear the worst. What if my sweet, forgiving mother has a dark, hateful side and I’m about to see it for the first time?
“Freya…” she whispers before reaching out to place her soft, warm hands on mine. “Is that what you were so afraid to tell me?”
“Aren’t you mad?” There’s a quiver in my voice and moisture in my eyes.
“Why would I be mad?”
“Because…this isn’t the life you had envisioned for me. I know Nani wants me to find a good man to marry.”
“You found two,” she says with a laugh, and as her eyes crinkle, I see the tears in them.
“You know what I mean,” I reply with a chuckle.
“I do know what you mean, Freya. Mothers will always want things for their daughters. And you know that all I want for you is to be happy. To be the best version of yourself—and look at you. You’re opening a restaurant in Paris, France. How could you possibly think I’d be disappointed in you?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, and tears stream down my face.
Seeing my emotion, she gathers me up in her arms and holds me to her chest as I cry.
Feeling my mother’s touch is more comforting than I remember.
Everything from the way she smells to the way she pats my back is familiar and makes me so homesick I could jump on a plane right now.
“Thank you, Maa,” I whisper. Once my tears are spent, I sit upright and wipe them away.
Pulling back, she softly touches my face.
“My daughter, you are so brave, and I have loved watching you grow and become your own person. You are a beautiful culmination of everything you have touched from India to California and now Paris. I taste that in your food, and now I see that in your heart. I can’t pretend to understand it, and there are a lot of things I don’t want to know,” she says, making me laugh as I reach for a tissue on the nightstand.
“But it makes me proud of you. You are so strong, Freya. Do not live your life by others’ expectations. ”
I swallow down the lump in my throat as I stare at my mother.
How did I never realize how open-minded and fearless she was?
I feel like a fool for not seeing that my mom is her own person.
She lives a full, active life outside of being the person who raised me.
She has ideas and beliefs that I probably never truly understood until now.
Somehow, this makes me love her that much more.
Then, with a laugh, she adds, “Don’t tell Nani I said that.”
We both laugh together as she scoots to the head of the bed to sit next to me.
“What do you say we put on a Julia Roberts rom-com and order in?”
“Sounds perfect,” I reply as I rest my head on her shoulder. As my mom finds a movie on Netflix, settling on Notting Hill—our favorite—I think about Julian and Archer.
I really hope I didn’t mess it up. But if my mom was so accepting of our relationship, what was my hang-up? Was I really so afraid she’d be mad, or was the issue more with me?
Was I the one hesitant to accept the love we have for each other? Whatever this emotion is, it feels the same as the way I felt about the restaurant.
Undeserving. Not worthy. An impostor.
But those are just the cruel voices in my head, lying to me. I do deserve the restaurant. I am not an impostor.
And I am worthy of love.
“Maa,” I mutter as I sit up straight on the bed just as she hits Play. “Can I get a rain check? I need to go do something.”
“I saw this coming,” she replies casually. “Go, but make that nice driver take you. I don’t want you on the streets alone at night.”
I jump from the bed and dash to the door. Then I spin around and run to give her another hug. “You’re the best. And I promise we’ll have a Julia Roberts marathon one night while you’re here.”
“I know we will, sweetie,” she says into our embrace. “Now go. It’s getting late.”
“Thank you,” I reply before rushing to the door. Tearing it open, I run toward the elevator, looking down at my phone and pulling up Amelia’s contact. I need her to send that driver for me.
But even before I can hit the button for the elevator, it opens with a ding. Glancing up, I make eye contact with Julian. He looks flustered, and my heart practically leaps out of my chest.
I don’t think. I just act. Throwing myself at him, I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze him tight. The relief I feel when he hugs me back is visceral. My legs grow weak, but he holds me up, burying his perfect face in my neck.
As I pull away, I stare into his eyes, currently soft with adoration. “I’m so sorry. I was such an idiot.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he replies. “I should have fought for you.”
“I shouldn’t have run in the first place. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. All those awful things I said. It was so stupid of me. I just freaked out,” I stammer as fresh tears fill my eyes.
“We are both a mess,” he says before grabbing my face and pulling me in for a brutal kiss. His lips press harshly to mine as the door of the elevator closes us in. We’re so caught up in the kiss that neither of us presses the button for our floor.
“Which is why we need him,” I reply against his lips. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” he replies with anxiety in his voice. “I was an asshole after you left, and I threw him out.”
“Oh no.” I should have known things between them wouldn’t have gone well after I left. It pains me to think of Archer so brokenhearted. “We have to go to him.”
“I know,” he says, “But I don’t know where he is. After my sister talked some sense into me, I went down to his apartment, but he was gone.”
“Oh God.” Something about an emotional and erratic Archer all alone in the city fills me with dread.
“I have his location on my phone,” Julian adds. “But I’m afraid he’s at one of those fights.”
“No,” I whine.
I peek down at Julian’s phone, seeing the location on the outskirts of the city, meaning Julian is probably right. Turning around, I frantically punch the ground floor button on the elevator.
“We have to go to him. We have to stop him, Julian. What if he gets really hurt?”
“I know, I know,” he replies, his tone full of fear. “But I didn’t want to go without you.”
Turning back toward him, I launch myself at him again. Knowing that Julian needs me as part of this eases all that doubt I was feeling earlier. I am so worthy of this love. I deserve it as much as anyone else. And since I deserve it, that means it’s worth fighting for.
Fitting snugly under his chin, I let Julian hold me as we ride down the elevator. I have so much I want to tell him about the talk with my mom, but right now I just need to absorb the relief of this embrace.
Everything feels right, or almost. Once we have Archer, then it will feel right. I won’t be able to fully relax until the three of us are together again.