Clarissa's pov
For some reason, I was feeling extremely restless all through the night, and I could barely get any sleep because of how restless I felt.
There were several thoughts in my head at the same time, and no matter how hard I tried to disregard my thoughts and get some rest, it wasn't working because my mind would automatically go back to the things that were bothering me, and I couldn't help but question a lot of things that I usually don't use to question.
After tossing and turning all through the night without getting any sleep, it was finally morning, and the first thing I did as soon as I realized it was morning was head downstairs, hoping that I'd run into my mom, with whom I haven't spoken in over two days.
Thankfully, she was in the kitchen like I hoped she'd be, and as soon as she saw me, she threw me a dirty look, which wasn't surprising since this was a typical reaction I got from her whenever she was upset about something.
"Good morning." I managed to greet her, not caring for the annoyed look she had on her face.
"Oh, so you finally decided to talk to me today? I thought you'd perhaps keep giving me the cold shoulder for the rest of your life, since apparently I'm the reason your werewolf boyfriend has a new woman," she responded, and I know I wasn't even the least bit surprised by her unnecessary vileness.
"Don't make me regret talking to you, Mom," I hissed, not hiding my irritation.
"Oh, sweetheart, don't make me laugh. Do you really think I'd care if you went back and stopped speaking to me? I mean, it would only show how ungrateful you are after all these years I've spent raising you myself, and you better believe you'll only end up getting your own karma when you become a mother yourself," she spat.
As much as I wasn't surprised by her words and reaction, I didn't think she'd go as far as trying to emotionally blackmail me, simply because she raised me by herself.
Time and time again, she always tried to throw it in my face that she went through a lot to raise me, and most of the time, I always ended up questioning why she even bothered giving birth to me if she was only going to be so regretful about it.
"Listen, Mother, I have had just about enough of your repeated attempts to emotionally blackmail me and make me look stupid," I said, deciding that she deserved my calmness.
"I came here, said good morning, and next thing, you're going off about how I'm ungrateful to you? Have I ever said I wasn't grateful? Why do you always try to make everything about you? Why can't you, like other reasonable mothers, understand that I'm upset and frustrated?" I vented angrily, and she seemed taken aback, almost like she wasn't expecting me to go off on her.
"Well, I'm upset too, but you don't see me going around and disrespecting my mother by pretending like she doesn't exist," she retorted, and I scoffed.
"Don't be ridiculous, Mom. You're making it sound like I've ignored you all your life when it's just me not wanting to talk to you for a few days, so you don't end up saying things that'd upset me," I said.
She rolled her eyes. "Just because I tell you the truth that you don't want to hear?" she questioned.
"The truth? And how are you so sure about it? I mean, you've probably never had any interactions with werewolves, seeing how much you hate their guts. So what makes you think a werewolf isn't capable of resisting their mate and choosing who to love? What makes you so certain that Ryan is going to leave me for her?" I questioned her, genuinely curious to understand the reasoning behind her pessimistic perspective.
She stayed quiet for a while, and judging by the look on her face, I could tell that she was holding back and trying to process how to respond.
If there was one thing I was very sure about, it was the fact that my mother most certainly had a lot of things that she never told me about, and I was starting to think that maybe her hatred for werewolves stemmed from some kind of personal experience or an acquaintance's experience.
"Are you going to answer the question, or am I free to make my own assumptions?" I asked.
"And what would you assume?" She asked.
"Don't turn it around, mom. You've always expressed how much you hate werewolves and how you think they are extremely horrible people, and now that I think about it, you've never once told me how you came to such conclusions. What exactly did the werewolves do to you to make you hate and distrust them so much?" I replied, making sure I wasn't giving her any room to avoid my question.
"What if I don't have a reason? What if it's just common sense that makes me confident that they're no good? I mean, even in the books about them, it's always made clear that they never truly abandon their mates, no matter how much love they have for someone else. You're the one who's refusing to accept the obvious," she said, but something told me she wasn't being completely honest.
"You're lying to me, Mom, and I know it. I mean, I get if you're worried that whatever you read in the books might happen to me, but it's quite clear that you hate these people very deeply, and I doubt that a person can develop such hatred through books," I retorted. "Permit me to add, but you don't even read that often. You're barely good at it."
My response brought a frown to her face, but I didn't care. She wasn't very good at reading, and I wasn't about to let her fool me.
"I'm not some uneducated fool, Clarissa. Stop trying to treat me like I'm one!" she snapped.
I sighed as I responded. "I never said you were one mother. I only said you're not good at reading, and that's because you hate reading. After all, it makes you fall asleep. Maybe next time, you should try thinking of a more reasonable excuse to justify your hatred for werewolves, 'cause saying you've read about them isn't going to cut it for me."
"Well, I don't want to talk about this anymore, Clarissa. It's not like you're going to listen to me anyway, so why bother asking? Go ahead and do whatever you want, but don't you dare say I didn't warn you," she said.
"Well, maybe if you gave me a solid reason to take you seriously, I would have considered your advice. But instead of telling me the truth, you're choosing to evade my questions as usual. You better not think I don't know you're hiding something from me, Mom, 'cause I'm certain that you are," I replied.
She scoffed. "I'm allowed to have my own secrets, you fool. I don't need to tell you everything about me," she said, earning an eye roll from me.
"I don't want to know everything about you, mother. I don't think I'm the least bit interested in hearing the story of your life, Mom, because I'm afraid you might end up infecting me with your negativity. But if your secret is connected to my life and my identity, then I deserve to know what it is. Don't you agree?" I said to her.
"What if I tell you and it ends up affecting you negatively? Are you going to blame me for that?" she asked.
"Be serious, mom. Please be serious," I hissed, and she rolled my eyes.
"What is it you really want to know, Clarissa?" She asked.
"It's quite simple, mom. Tell me why you hate werewolves so much, and don't bother giving me a lame excuse, 'cause I won't take it," I replied.
She sighed. "Well, since you're so eager to know, I hate them because your father is one of them. Happy now?" She answered, and I almost couldn't believe my ears.