"What do you mean you quit your job?" my mom asks, shock in her voice. "I thought you were happy with your career, Summer."
"I was happy," I whisper, fighting not to cry again. I already did that on the way home. Telling Dominic how I feel about him was never part of my plan. I was supposed to hand over my resignation letter, tell him how much I enjoyed working for him….and then get through the next two weeks without him ever knowing how I feel.
He didn't let that happen though.
I should have expected that because he never does what he's supposed to do. He's too stubborn. But now he knows the truth, and I can't take back the words any more than I can unlove him. He looked shocked and then angry. I'm so glad Tomas came in when he did, because I'm pretty sure whatever Dominic was going to say would have broken my heart into tiny pieces.
"Summer? What's wrong, lovebug? Talk to me," Mom says.
"I messed up." I want to curl up on her lap like I did when I was little, but she's a thousand miles away, so I curl up on the couch instead. The blinds are all drawn, leaving the living room mostly dark. My apartment doesn't get good light until late afternoon. Usually that bothers me, but not today.
"I don't believe that," Mom says like the mere thought is absurd. Her faith in me is resolute, unyielding. It's always been that way, which is why I hate to disappoint her by telling her that the life she always envisioned for me isn't the one I want. But I might as well get it out there now. I mean, what's one more heartbreaking conversation today?
"Remember the first time you told me that I could be whatever I wanted to be, and no one could ever tell me any different?"
"Of course I remember," she says, a smile in her voice. "You wanted to be Chicken Little in the school play, but your classmates were teasing you because Chicken Little was supposed to be a boy. I was right, wasn't I?"
"Yeah," I mumble. I made a kickass Chicken Little that year. At least until the King got his cape stuck on the edge of the bridge and accidentally knocked me off the stage during our final performance. I had a black eye and a broken arm, but my mom never regretted giving me that speech. She was proud of me. "I quit because I'm in love with my boss."
She's quiet…too quiet.
A tear slips down my cheek.
"Oh, Summer," she finally says. "I already know you love him, lovebug."
"You do? You never said anything."
"Neither did you," she points out. "I figured you would talk about it when you were ready. Does he know?"
"Yeah, I told him today."
"He didn't take it well? Is that why you quit?"
"Um…not exactly. I quit because I didn't want things to be awkward. I never planned to tell him at all, but it just kind of slipped out." I brush away another tear. "I don't think he was very happy about it."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing. I ran out after I told him how I felt."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Um, I love having a job and being productive," I blurt out, "but I'm not like you are. I don't want to be single my whole life. I want a husband and babies. And I want to be home with them whenever I can. I know that's not what you wanted for me, but it's what I want for me."
"Oh, lovebug," she says, her voice gentle. "When I told you that you could be anything you wanted, I meant that. If you want to be a wife and a mom, if that's what will make you happy, you're allowed to want that. You're allowed to have that. I didn't raise you the way I did so you would be me or make the same choices I did. I raised you the way I did so you would always have options."
She didn't have many of those for a long time. She had me when she was still in high school and struggled for a long time because her parents kicked her out. We lived in the homeless shelter for almost a year while she finished high school. I don't know how she made it through college with a baby, but she did. She never let her circumstances define her future.
"I didn't want you to wake up at seventeen, alone and pregnant like I did," she says. "I wouldn't trade you for anything in the world, but I wanted you to be able to find your path without worrying about where your next meal would come from or if you could afford to feed your baby."
"I didn't want to disappoint you," I whisper.
"I could never be disappointed in you," she whispers back, her voice choked with vehement emotion. "I'm so proud of the woman you've become. You're smart and funny and have a heart the size of Texas. If Dominic doesn't see that, he's not worthy of you. I know it probably hurts right now, but it won't feel that way forever."
"What if you're wrong?"
"Impossible," she says with a watery laugh that lets me know I'm not the only one crying. She is too. "I'm your mom. I'm never wrong."
I can't help but smile at that. She's told me the same thing since I was a little girl. Most of the time, she's right. But I don't know if she is this time. I've never felt for anyone what I feel for Dominic. It's like he's a part of me. When he pulled me up against his hard body today, I felt whole for…well, for the first time in my life. I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I don't think that's something that just goes away.