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“Fuck you, Connor Milton.” I take another gulp of wine. “Fuck you and your stupid, perfect face.”

The bubbling of the ramen makes me look up, and I mix in the salty seasoning. When it’s done cooking, I move to the couch with the steaming bowl in one hand and my wineglass in the other, curling up between the soft pillows and a blanket.

I eat methodically, barely tasting it.

Can’t wait for Gem and Lil to finally move in here.

The shrill ring of my phone startles me from my brooding. I peek at the caller ID and groan.

“Hi, mom.”

“Mary, I’ve been thinking about your situation.”

Situation? Is that how we refer now to my lack of a husband? Well, I did get some kind of marriage proposal today, right?

“Great.”

There’s a pause, during which I imagine her fidgeting with her pearls and pursing her lips. “Grandchildren someday soon would be great.”

“Can’t we talk about this… I don’t know. In 10 years?”

“Now, don’t start. We both know you won’t find anyone suitable on your own.”

I give a noncommittal grunt.

Undeterred, she continues, “I arranged another blind date for you, darling. He works at a prestigious law firm downtown and is very successful. His name is Henry, and he’ll be here Friday night at seven o’clock.”

I stifle a sigh, poking at my cooling ramen. How many versions of Henry has she set me up with over the years? Smart, accomplished, handsome, on paper, at least. And without fail, wrong for me.

“That sounds great, Mom.” I inject false enthusiasm into my voice. “But I have a business meeting that night.”

“Mary.” Her tone sharpens. “We’ve talked about this. You’re nearly thirty, and a woman in your position needs to consider the future. I’ve been patient, but it’s time you started making the right choices. Your biological clock is ticking, dear.”

She doesn’t have to spell it out.

My inheritance. My career. Dad’s company. It all hinges on me making the ‘right’ choice for a husband.

All the old arguments rise in my throat, but I swallow them back down. It’s pointless. She won’t hear me.

“I know. Send me his contact and I’ll find another time with him, okay?”

A pleased note enters her voice, and I can practically hear her preening over my acquiescence. “Fine. But don’t think I won’t notice you slacking.”

“Yes, mom.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

As soon as I hang up, I drop my head into my hands.

Another damn blind date. One more dinner with another empty suit, pretending to be interested. The well-dressed, perfectly polished men she picks never fail to leave me cold. Ourworlds are too different. They just want a pretty trophy on their arm, a way to get their hands on my family’s company.

One more evening of making nice to keep Mom and Dad happy.

When will Mom get it through her thick skull that I don’t need her meddling in my love life? I’m doing just fine on my own, thank you very much.

Well, maybe not totally fine. Chris ghosting me like that still stings. One minute, we’re having this insanely hot, intimate night together, and the next, he’s vanished without a trace, leaving me with nothing but a vague ‘I’m sorry’ note. Dick move, Chris, dick move.

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