Chapter 23 #2
The door opens. Mum struts right into the kitchen, Dad following meekly on her heels. When she sees me standing by the table, her gaze zeroes in on me.
It’s like being smacked in the face. My parents aren’t supposed to be here for hours, but here they are, before the gala instead of after.
Seeing my mother glare at me with those icy blue eyes feels like a reprimand.
She would look just like Ingrid with her red hair, if it weren’t for the compassion absent from her expression.
Her natural air of dominance is a lot to take in after being away for so long.
And Dad only glances at me before checking the time on his designer watch.
He’s dressed to the nines as usual, donning a fitted blazer, dress shoes, and expensive slacks.
His greying hair is neatly combed in preparation for today’s gala.
My mother offers me a strained smile by way of greeting. “Hello, Sebastian. There’s still time to come to the event with us, so we thought we’d stop by and see if you had a change of heart.”
I stare at her, completely caught off guard until she snaps her fingers at me impatiently. “Did you hear me?”
“Mother…I’m not?—”
“Let’s go. ” She taps her foot. “You must know how tired I’ve gotten of this little game. I want you to work the gala. And then I want you to come home.”
My words come out strained. “Why? So you can control me again?” I try to make eye contact with Dad, hoping by some miracle he’ll actually defend me, but he just stares at the ground.
“If you’re referring to how I feel about you fighting professionally, none of that’s changed.
You can’t expect me to support that kind of lifestyle, Sebastian.
Especially not after all the training we’ve given you within our line of work.
” She takes a deep breath, pressing her fingertips to her temples and closing her eyes.
“Please. I have a terrible migraine, so don’t keep me waiting. ”
“Sorry. I’m not going anywhere.”
She pretends I haven’t spoken. “You never used that check I sent, so I know you need money, and I’ll pay you for today if you come.”
“I have a temporary job. I’m fine. And I’ll be doing even better after my fight.”
Mum’s face reddens, but before she can fire her next retort, Romilly emerges from the bathroom. She takes in the three of us, confusion crossing her face, and then she says, “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Black.”
Mum’s frown lines deepen. “And you are…?”
Romilly blushes, moving toward them with grace and an extended hand. “Romilly Westfall. I’m a friend of Sebastian’s.”
Dad speaks up for the first time, eyeing Romilly with amusement.
“Just a friend?” And then he shoots me a knowing glance that makes rage fill my body.
I know what he’s thinking. That the rumors all over our church back home are true, and Romilly is just one of many.
It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve denied all the talk, despite her being the first woman I’ve ever been seen with or introduced to them and Ingrid. They never believe me.
“Just a friend,” Romilly confirms with a sweet smile. “You’ve raised such a fine man. Everything good about Bash, I know must be thanks to the two of you.”
Mum’s pinched face seems to soften a fraction. “Oh…thank you.”
“That’s very kind, Romilly,” says Dad.
She beams. “I can only imagine how proud you must be about his big fight. It’s all over social media.”
“Ugh,” says Mum. “I can’t think of anything worse, actually, than my son getting his face punched in.”
Romilly places her hand on her chest. “That just shows how much you care about him. How much you love him.” She looks at me. “You must be thankful to have such loving parents, Sebastian.”
As she speaks, I remember something Addison said about Romilly winning pageants in the past. And right now, I can totally see why. She’s so convincing and diplomatic.
And then our gazes connect, a silent communication passes between us.
She wants me to play along.
Turning to my parents, I sigh. “I am. I’m thankful you care so much about me. That you want to look out for me. But I’ve been training so hard, and I have enough skill to avoid getting my face punched in to the lengths you’re imagining, Mother.”
She deflates a little. “Honey, you have no idea what you’ve put us through the past four months. Please just give it up.”
“I can’t.” I move toward her. “And I’m sorry.”
Tears glisten in my mother’s eyes. Dad squeezes her shoulders.
“I suppose I understand why you want to stay so badly.” She glances at Romilly with an amused twinkle in her eye.
I nod. “Can you please respect that?”
She exhales loudly. Dramatically. “We’ll talk about this more. I have a feeling making you see reason is going to take longer than I have time for right now. But Ingrid, on the other hand, needs to come home.”
“I’ll have a word with her,” I say, a wry grin on my lips. “Now, get out of here before you’re late for the gala.”
Mum crosses her arms. “While we’re here, do you need any money?”
“No, thank you. I don’t need it.” Or want it, I almost add, but think better of it.
Mum pulls me into a hug, and then Dad takes his turn right after. “We’ll be in touch soon,” he says.
They hug Romilly next. It’s unusual to see because they don’t typically hug strangers. “The four of us need to get lunch this week and catch up,” says Mum. “I insist.”
Romilly nods. “I’d love to.”
We finish saying our goodbyes, and then my parents are out the door.
Romilly turns to face me. “I can’t believe you turned down their money. You wouldn’t have needed any sponsors. I feel so bad about that, by the way. Not being able to sponsor you, since Agatha hasn’t come back yet.”
“Hey, don’t worry.” I tip her chin up with my hand. “I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain, either. I didn’t help your rating at all. But you did get that interview all on your own.”
She shrugs. “Paige did it, not me. And don’t change the subject. Their money would have helped you a lot. You could have saved it to move out. Or gotten your car fixed.”
“It’s still kicking for now. What’s a few more weeks? And I will save up to move out. I’ve already been saving and applying for apartments. Being your bather pays pretty well, so who knows? Maybe I’ll stick around a little longer, if you’ll let me.”
She searches my face like she’s seeing me for the first time. With new eyes and possibly a new sense of respect. “Just so you know, you’re a much harder worker than I give you credit for.”
Her approval means more to me than she knows. But somewhere deep down, I’m still worried everyone else is right about me.
My parents always wanted me to be someone else. Their obedient, well-groomed, polite son. I've never been allowed to try to make something of my MMA passion.
But with Romilly, I'm allowed. I have room to stretch my legs for once, to see how long they actually are. For the first time, I can see myself, and I like what I see. The alarming part is that I didn't expect to find so much of myself when I'm with her.
But still, I might not be good enough. If I don’t get sponsors and make it big fighting, I’ll be nothing. I can’t work at her shop forever, and I won’t be able to afford my own place so I can stay here with her like I promised.
But there’s still a chance. I can still win, God willing.
I may not be the man she deserves yet, but if I must, I’ll die in that ring trying to become him.