I sat across from my mother at De Luca, one of the fanciest restaurants in town. I was wearing sweatpants and a black crop top, which my mother clearly disapproved of. "Diana, what are you wearing?" she scolded me. "You can't go out in public dressed like that."
I rolled my eyes. "It's just dinner, Mom. Who cares what I'm wearing?"
My mother sighed. "I do. You're representing our family, and you need to look presentable."
I couldn't help but feel frustrated. It was like my mother thought she was the only one who had the right to mourn my father because she loved him so much. "Mom, did you know that Mathias is back?" I said, changing the subject.
My mother's expression softened. "Yes, I heard. He'll be fine, he just needs some time."
I found it weird that my mother had invited me to dinner. We weren't even close. But I didn't say anything.
As we left the restaurant, the paparazzi swarmed me with questions about my father's death and the empire he left behind. I completely evaded their questions. The press always made me feel like a spoiled child because I was a major daddy's girl.
I hopped into my BMW and drove home, barely listening to the podcast playing on the radio. All I could think about was the fact that work resumed tomorrow.
As I lay in bed that night, I couldn't shake off the feeling of sadness and frustration. My father was gone, and everything felt so different without him.
Tears streamed down my face as I thought about how much I missed him. He had always been there for me, supporting me and encouraging me to follow my dreams.
But now he was gone, and I felt lost without him.
I tried to push the thoughts away and focus on something else, but they kept creeping back into my mind.
Eventually, I fell into a restless sleep, dreaming of happier times when my father was still with us.