Chapter 44 - What About Your Future? #2
"That I wasn't discussing my future with Carlo."
"Reasonable."
"She started crying."
Oh.
There.
New level.
Tori's face changed.
Not anger now.
Guilt.
Fuck.
That was harder.
"She cried?"
"Yes."
"About?"
"She said she's scared."
There.
I softened despite myself.
Because fear—
even badly handled fear—
was still fear.
Tori stared at our hands.
"She said she spent my whole life trying to give me everything."
"I believe that."
"She did."
"I know."
"Good school. Everything I needed. Help with college. She'd stay up when I had exams. She went to every recognition. Every graduation. Every stupid contest."
Her voice got quieter.
"She really did."
I squeezed her hand.
Tori swallowed.
"And then she said she doesn't understand why I would choose a harder life when she worked so hard to make mine easier."
Oh.
There it was.
Not just homophobia in the bluntest form.
Something more emotionally dangerous.
A mother translating her daughter's queerness into—
Why would you waste the safe future I built for you?
Tori looked at me.
"She thinks she's protecting me."
"Probably."
"That doesn't make it okay."
"No."
"But it makes me feel like an asshole."
"You're not."
She laughed weakly.
"You don't have to say that."
"I know."
"I told her she didn't fail."
"Okay."
"I told her I'm happy."
"Okay."
"She asked how I could know."
That one hurt.
Tori's eyes were wet now.
Not crying yet.
Just—
close.
"She said we've barely been together."
True.
Irrelevant.
"She asked what happens when people talk."
I said nothing.
"She asked what happens when I'm older."
Pause.
"When I want children."
Pause.
"When you leave."
There.
I looked at her.
Tori shook her head immediately.
"Not because she knows you."
"I know."
"She means when any girlfriend leaves."
"I know."
"She keeps treating pain as proof I shouldn't choose this."
That was the sentence.
I sat with it.
Then—
"Straight people get left too."
Tori laughed through her nose.
"Yes."
"Men cheat."
"Yes."
"Carlo could be terrible."
"She says he's very nice."
"Highly suspicious."
That got a real laugh.
Small.
Enough.
Then Tori wiped under one eye before anything could fall.
"I hate that she's making me defend every possible future."
There.
I understood.
Marriage.
Children.
Breakup.
Aging.
Regret.
Loneliness.
Everything hypothetical.
As if Tori had to prove a lesbian life would be painless before she was allowed to live one.
Impossible standard.
No heterosexual relationship had to submit that proposal.
I said—
"You don't owe her a risk-free forecast."
Tori looked at me.
That landed.
"She gets to worry."
I continued.
"She gets to be scared."
Pause.
"But she doesn't get to make your life a problem you have to solve for her."
Tori looked down.
Quiet.
Then—
"I know."
Different from believing it.
I knew that too.
Wednesday, her mother called while Tori was with me again.
This time—
Tori didn't answer.
Phone rang.
Stopped.
Then rang again.
She looked at it.
I looked at her.
"What do you want?"
She exhaled.
"I don't know."
"Then you don't have to answer until you do."
The phone stopped.
Message.
Tori read it.
Her face hardened.
"What?"
She turned the phone toward me.
A screenshot.
Family group chat.
Tita Elena had sent—
Please talk to your sister. She's not listening to me.
Bea had replied:
Ma, she is listening. She just disagrees.
Oh.
I liked Bea.
Marco:
Also stop sending Carlo ??
I liked Marco too.
Then Tita Elena:
You two don't understand. I'm her mother. I know her.
Tori stared at the screen.
That one—
hurt.
I could see it.
Not—
I'm her mother.
But—
I know her.
As if Tori did not know herself.
Another message appeared.
Tito Ramon.
Enough. Let Tori decide.
Silence.
Tori blinked.
Then—
"Oh."
I looked at her.
"Your dad?"
"Yes."
Apparently silent did not mean absent.
Another message.
Tita Elena:
I'm only worried.
Tito Ramon:
Then worry. Don't decide for her.
I raised my eyebrows.
Tori stared.
Then laughed.
Unexpected.
Not happy exactly.
Relieved.
"Dad."
"Apparently."
"He never says anything."
"He has now."
She read it again.
Then her eyes filled.
Different reason this time.
I slid closer.
She leaned into me immediately.
No question needed.
Her phone buzzed again.
Bea:
DAD HAS ENTERED THE CHAT
Marco:
historic event
Tori laughed against my shoulder.
I laughed too.
Then—
Tita Elena left the group chat.
We both stopped.
"Oh," I said.
Tori stared.
"She'll be back."
"You sound confident."
"She does this."
"Healthy communication."
"She usually returns within six hours."
"Very specific."
"Historical data."
I smiled.
There.
Her mother's daughter.
Definitely.
Tita Elena did return.
Four hours and twenty-seven minutes later.
Tori sent me the screenshot.
Your father embarrassed me in front of my own children.
Bea:
we were already your children before the embarrassment
No.
I had to put my phone down.
Bea was dangerous.
Tori:
Ma, can we talk tomorrow? Just us. No Carlo. No Lia. No future husband. Just us.
Long pause.
Then—
Fine.
That was all.
They met Saturday.
Mother and daughter.
I was not there.
Important.
Tori called me afterward.
Her voice sounded tired.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"How bad?"