Page 19 of New Growth
Her brows lifted in mild surprise. “Beauty school? That’s what you want to do with your father’s hard-earned money?”
My jaw tightened. “Daddy said to take the money and do something for myself,” I repeated his words in case she forgot.
“And you decide on that?” She asked in a very degrading tone. “Since when are you into beauty schools, anyway?”
“It’s a new interest.”
“New interest, huh?” she repeated as though the idea bored her. “Well, have you found anything?”
“Yes,” I said, straightening in my chair. “There’s a program in Thailand that looks incredible. It’s one of the best in the world, and I’m thinking about applying.”
“Thailand?” she said sharply. “Elliot, you can’t be serious. That’s halfway around the world.”
“That’s kind of the point,” I said, meeting her gaze evenly. “The distance has been holding me back, but I really think I need to start fresh, away from all of this.”
Especially after this conversation, maybe Thailand wasn’t far enough.
“Running away won’t solve your problems, Elliot. If anything, it makes you look weak,” she spat with frustration.
Her words stung, though they weren’t new. They echoed the same doubts I had myself.
“I’m not running away,” I said firmly. “I’m trying to rebuild my life.”
She leaned forward slightly. “Rebuilding your life doesn’t mean abandoning your family. It doesn’t mean hiding on the other side of the world because you’re too scared to face what’s in front of you.”
“I’m not scared,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Then prove it,” she challenged, sitting back and folding her arms.
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t have to prove anything.”
“For God’s sake, Elliot.” She whisper-yelled. The disappointment was so evident in her voice that I was ready to crawl up under the table. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”
I shook my head, my frustration boiling over. “No, the real question is, why are you so small-minded? There is more to life than messy moments, and I can’t keep dwelling on them.”
“Life is messy, Elliot,” she said, her tone turning cold. “And people make mistakes. But if you let go of the people closest to you, you’ll only end up bitter and alone. Is that what you want?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but stopped myself. I didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. Instead, I pushed my chair back and grabbed my bag.
“Where are you going?” she asked, her voice sharp with annoyance.
“Home,” I said, standing. “I don’t think this conversation is going anywhere.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, glaring at me. “We’re not finished.”
“Yes, we are,” I said, my voice quiet but resolute.
Without waiting for her response, I turned and walked out of the restaurant.
The silence in my apartment felt suffocating.
It had been three hours since I had walked out of that lunch with my mother, and since then, I had hardly moved. The only sounds that filled the space were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the faint hum of the refrigerator. Every time I tried to distract myself with something, it felt hollow. No amount of scrolling on my phone or flipping through channels on the TV could quiet the noise in my head.
I sat on the couch, my knees pulled to my chest, my mind swirling with a thousand thoughts, none of them good:
Go to Thailand or stay here?
Face them or run away?
