Days passed and I have been bombarded with my mother’s messages telling me to come and meet her up in a restaurant. I have always made excuses not to come but now, it felt like she was giving me an ultimatum.
Mom:
Your father and I are in the Italian restaurant to the left of your place. Come and join us.
I raised my brow because I know for a fact that my mother has never asked me to come and join them while eating or for anything. When I decided to pursue my dreams as a model, they stopped acting like my parents.
Which is why I find it really odd that they are actually asking me now. It’s funny, even.
I sighed and shrugged before changing into a simple shirt and jeans—an outfit my mother hates because she thinks I am not up to par with other women my age when I’m wearing clothes I
