My Mother Recognized My Fake Fiance From an Autumn Night Five Years Ago
My mother followed us into the narrow hall, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor with a sharp, metallic sound. My father stayed on the sofa, but he turned his head, his gray eyes watching us through the double doors.
“You are going with him,” my mother said, her voice dropping into a cold whisper.
“I brought him here,” I said, reaching into the closet for my wool coat.
“If you walk out of that door with this man, Mia, you do not come back next Sunday,” she said.
She stood between the closet and the front door, her arms folded across her chest, her chin tilted up in the way she always did before a committee meeting.
“You have made your choice,” she said. “You have brought a stranger into this house to humiliate me.”
“He is not a stranger to you,” I said.
My mother’s eyes narrowed, the small lines around her mouth deepening into sharp creases.
“I have nothing more to say to either of you,” she said. “Pack your bags and take this man with you before I call the deputy.”
