“It doesn’t matter. Youwilltell your sister you lied and save this wedding.”
“Why?” Olivia demanded. “So she can marry a cheating asshole? I can’t believe you’d want your own daughter to spend her life with someone like that!”
“Stop being so naïve,” Eleanor snapped. “Everyone makes sacrifices. No one is perfect. Your sister is already over thirty. The chances of her landing an eligible bachelor like Richard again decrease by the day. If you care about her, you’ll tell her you lied and convince her to take him back and go through with the wedding before it’s too late.”
Olivia couldn’t help it—she started laughing. Hysterically.
Eleanor frowned. “Stop that. It’s unbecoming.”
“I can’t help it.” Olivia hiccupped, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. “You know what’s funny? All my life, I’ve wanted your approval. School, my career, my relationships—everything I’ve ever done was colored by what I thought you wanted. But no matter how many A’s or promotions I got, I’ve never been quite good enough. Alina was the golden child, and I couldn’t understand why you loved her more than me. We’re both your daughters. It wasn’t until today that I realized you don’t love her, either. You don’t love anyone but yourself.”
Eleanor’s eyes sparked with fury. “Howdareyou take that tone with me. I’m your mother. I raised you. I fed and sheltered you. I paid for your education, your music and dance lessons—”
“Foryou.Not for us. You molded us into children you could brag about. You never asked us whether we wanted to spend our weekends practicing violin and piano and learning French. You did it because it was what ‘good’ families did.” Olivia shook her head. “Even now, you’re more worried about my tone than the fact that I just accused you of not loving your daughters.”
“You’re an ungrateful brat. You always were—talking back, resisting, giving me headaches Alina never did.” Eleanor’s tone remained cold. “You’ve no idea the sacrifices I made to ensure you and your sister had a better childhood than I did. I was born during the Great Leap Forward. I grew up during the Cultural Revolution. There were months when I had nothing to eat except one measly bowl of rice a day, and my chance at an education was ripped away from me. But I made it to the U.S. Even without a formal degree, I was smart. I befriended the right people, dated the right men. Now look at me. Two Ivy League-educated daughters, one of whom was on the cusp of marrying into one of Chicago’s most prominent families—untilyoumessed it up.” A short, bitter laugh. “I should’ve aborted you like I’d originally wanted. You were an accident; I only wanted one child. But I had a moment of weakness and kept you, and you’ve been a disappointment ever since. This isn’t aboutlove,Olivia. It’s about survival. Those at the top survive; those on the bottom don’t. The fact you’ve never understood that is exactly why you’ll never have my approval.”
Pain sliced through Olivia and shredded her insides.You were an accident. I should’ve aborted you.It was one thing to know your own mother hated you; it was another to hear her say it to your face.
Fury and a cold, calm acceptance chased the pain through her system, creating a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. “You know what? I don’t want your approval. Not anymore.” Her nails dug into the soft flesh of her palms. “You raised me, and for that I’m grateful. But just because I’m grateful doesn’t mean I respect you. I finally understand what you value most, and it is nowhere near what I value as a family member, a friend, or a human being. If I everdoearn your approval, I’ll know I’ve royally fucked up.” Olivia opened the door. “Goodbye, Mother.”
You could hear a pin drop in the silence.
Mother and daughter stared at each other, both knowing this was the closing chapter of a long, tumultuous story neither had particularly enjoyed.
Eleanor didn’t say a word as she walked out without a backward glance.
Olivia closed the door and pressed her forehead against the solid oak, her pulse pounding in her ears. She might throw up, but she also felt a hundred pounds lighter.
She was finally free—free from her mother’s expectations, her judgment, her toxic outlook on the world and messed-up priorities. Olivia could make her own decisions and live her life without worrying about what Eleanor Tang would think.
She didn’t know how long she stayed there, head to the door, mind racing with possibilities, but she got to a point where she knew what she had to do next.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
On the count of five, Olivia raised her head and made two phone calls.
The first was to New York, where she set her plan in motion.
The second was to Chicago—and it was that call that upended her life all over again.