"Hello... Mother."
The woman sitting there, completely oblivious to the fact that someone had walked in, turned slowly. A small smile played on her lips.
What was it with people she knew and their weird, unsettling smiles?
"Amelia, darling. I see you're doing well."
She didn't reply. Instead, she walked over and sat down, silent.
She was curious—furious, even. What could possibly make this woman, who hadn't seen her or bothered with her in years, suddenly show up?
She looked the same. At least, that's what Amelia thought. The truth was, most of her memories of her mother had faded with time. Only the bad ones remained. Anytime she tried to picture her face, it was always slightly blurry.
Now that she thought about it... wasn't all her memories with her mother bad?
"I heard you're now married to Asher."
Ah. There it was.
She'd already had a feeling. A suspicion, a tickle in the back of her mind whispering that this might be the reason. Still, a part of her had hoped. Maybe she's finally here for me.
But of course not. That's what you get for hoping.
"Is that why you're here? How did you even know? We haven't posted anything about it."
"I have my ways," her mother replied with that same smile—calm and cutting.
"I'll cut to the chase. I need your help. I need Asher to do something for me."
Amelia just stared at her, unsure of what to say.
So this was her mother?
"Have you ever missed me?" Her voice came out quiet but firm. "Ever thought about me? Regretted the way you treated me? Have you ever—just once—seen me as your daughter?"
The tears were threatening now, but she fought them. God, she fought them.
Her mother sighed, visibly annoyed. "What's with the emotional outburst? I only came to you because you're married to Asher. Guess I was wrong. I'll just find another way to meet him."
She stood and turned to leave.
But Amelia's voice rang out, cracked and trembling.
"You know… sometimes I wonder what I ever did to deserve your hatred. Maybe I wasn't pretty enough. Maybe I did something and forgot. I don't know. I was just a kid."
Her breath hitched.
"I needed my mother. I needed you. But what did I get? A woman who saw me as a punching bag. A woman who looked at me like I was a mistake. Was it really so wrong to ask for love—for your love?"
By the time she was done, the tears she'd been holding back spilled freely down her cheeks.
The woman turned slowly, her eyes cold. Icy. Filled with that same hatred Amelia remembered all too well.
Ah. There were the eyes she knew.
"You asked what you did wrong?" she said softly. "Well, I think you already know."
A pause. Then the blade:
"You were born."
She turned and left without another word.
You were born…
The words echoed in Amelia's ears. Over and over again.
Was it really that bad? She hadn't asked to be here. She hadn't asked to be the daughter of two despicable people. If she had a choice, she wouldn't have come at all.
But she hadn't been given a choice.
Slowly, she wiped her tears away. There was no point wasting them on people like her mother.
One thing was certain:
She would never cry again.
Not for anyone.