spending time with her. If she won't tell me why our families don't speak and why our grandparents forced us to marry, then she's not getting any information about my private life with Craig. I know she wants the 'marriage' to fail, hates the thought of me living with Craig but if she doesn't tell me why, then she has no right delving into my personal life.
Only two hours and you can go home. You can do this, Nic.
I exhale before pushing open the kitchen door to reveal my mum, Kerry, slaving over the hob. The radio is playing in the background and she's lightly singing along. I've never seen this side to her. All my life she has been 'The Dragon', the person who has torn me down with insults and slung abusive words towards me for not wanting to be anything like her. Not wanting to be a trophy wife and gold-digger. I have always known my own path and she hated it. Hated that I wasn't a mummy's girl, hated that I ran to my dad before her. But yet, with all the emotional and mental abuse she slings my way, I have to take it in my stride. I know it's down to the past and I try my hardest not to let it get to me. As much as she wasn't and isn't a mother to me, I stay civil for my father's sake. He's the most important person in my life, and if he loves my mum, I have to push past everything and do this for him, hence why I am here every single Sunday when I would much rather stay at the flat without the snide digs every time I speak to my mother. Trying to make an effort, I don't want to interrupt her 'good mood', so instead I make myself a drink and sit at the island. I pull my phone out and send a text to Craig, asking how his afternoon is going with his dad. No more than two minutes I receive a text back.
I'm wanting to put a bullet through my head. My dad is on fire today. How are yours? Xx
I spray out the water I had gulped and begin to laugh at his response. My mother spins around and put a hand to her chest, glaring at me for making her jump. I do a little dance inside.
“Jesus Christ, Nic, give me a warning if you are in here. I'm cooking with boiling water and if that spilt over me...” She scorns, eyeing up my phone. I try not to roll my eyes at her attitude and look up briefly to smile, before returning my attention to the device. “Who are you texting?” That tone in her voice is one I am used to. Cold, hard and full of bitterness.
“Who do you think, mother?” I lift my head up to give her a cocky smirk. She just gives me a disgusted look in return and turns her back to me, focusing on her pans.
“I'd prefer if you didn't text him in my house.”
I scoff and roll my eyes. “And I'd prefer it if you would butt out of my life, but that's not going to happen.”
I watch her spin back to face me, a face full of anger. She stomps over and stands opposite me on her side of the island. I raise my eyebrows and put my phone down. Here we go. Let the screaming match begin. It doesn’t matter if I am twenty-two, she will always treat me like a two year old. We continue to glare at each other, neither one of us faltering. I'm not giving her the satisfaction of backing down. Why should I? She acts all high and mighty, acts like she is the damn Queen and I've had enough. I'm older now, I know myself, and it's time I fought her back. I only break away when my phone chimes and I know I would rather converse with Craig over text than verbally with my own mother. I can feel her throwing hot daggers at me and my phone and although I know she is scrutinising me, I ignore her. I focus on texting Craig, and wanting to get the hell out of the house and back to my flat to binge off take out and crappy TV.
The tension around us is too thick. It's never reached this point before but she's never told me I can't text Craig before either. I'm surprised the bitch in her hasn't taken it away from me like I am a naughty teenager and banned me from having it until lunch is over. That happens and I am smacking her, taking the phone
Only two hours and you can go home. You can do this, Nic.
I exhale before pushing open the kitchen door to reveal my mum, Kerry, slaving over the hob. The radio is playing in the background and she's lightly singing along. I've never seen this side to her. All my life she has been 'The Dragon', the person who has torn me down with insults and slung abusive words towards me for not wanting to be anything like her. Not wanting to be a trophy wife and gold-digger. I have always known my own path and she hated it. Hated that I wasn't a mummy's girl, hated that I ran to my dad before her. But yet, with all the emotional and mental abuse she slings my way, I have to take it in my stride. I know it's down to the past and I try my hardest not to let it get to me. As much as she wasn't and isn't a mother to me, I stay civil for my father's sake. He's the most important person in my life, and if he loves my mum, I have to push past everything and do this for him, hence why I am here every single Sunday when I would much rather stay at the flat without the snide digs every time I speak to my mother. Trying to make an effort, I don't want to interrupt her 'good mood', so instead I make myself a drink and sit at the island. I pull my phone out and send a text to Craig, asking how his afternoon is going with his dad. No more than two minutes I receive a text back.
I'm wanting to put a bullet through my head. My dad is on fire today. How are yours? Xx
I spray out the water I had gulped and begin to laugh at his response. My mother spins around and put a hand to her chest, glaring at me for making her jump. I do a little dance inside.
“Jesus Christ, Nic, give me a warning if you are in here. I'm cooking with boiling water and if that spilt over me...” She scorns, eyeing up my phone. I try not to roll my eyes at her attitude and look up briefly to smile, before returning my attention to the device. “Who are you texting?” That tone in her voice is one I am used to. Cold, hard and full of bitterness.
“Who do you think, mother?” I lift my head up to give her a cocky smirk. She just gives me a disgusted look in return and turns her back to me, focusing on her pans.
“I'd prefer if you didn't text him in my house.”
I scoff and roll my eyes. “And I'd prefer it if you would butt out of my life, but that's not going to happen.”
I watch her spin back to face me, a face full of anger. She stomps over and stands opposite me on her side of the island. I raise my eyebrows and put my phone down. Here we go. Let the screaming match begin. It doesn’t matter if I am twenty-two, she will always treat me like a two year old. We continue to glare at each other, neither one of us faltering. I'm not giving her the satisfaction of backing down. Why should I? She acts all high and mighty, acts like she is the damn Queen and I've had enough. I'm older now, I know myself, and it's time I fought her back. I only break away when my phone chimes and I know I would rather converse with Craig over text than verbally with my own mother. I can feel her throwing hot daggers at me and my phone and although I know she is scrutinising me, I ignore her. I focus on texting Craig, and wanting to get the hell out of the house and back to my flat to binge off take out and crappy TV.
The tension around us is too thick. It's never reached this point before but she's never told me I can't text Craig before either. I'm surprised the bitch in her hasn't taken it away from me like I am a naughty teenager and banned me from having it until lunch is over. That happens and I am smacking her, taking the phone
Similar Books
