Chapter 6 - Conversations and Blueberry Pancakes

Aurelia stepped into the bathtub and took a long, hot shower, wishing she could live, die, and rot in there for eternity, never to be seen again.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖎𝖝

In the cozy, sunlit kitchen, the smell of freshly made blueberry pancakes filled the air, mingling with the soft warmth of the beautiful morning. The kitchen, with its rustic wooden cabinets and cheerful but stained curtains, was inviting and homey.

At the center of the table, a stack of golden brown pancakes was piled high, each one dotted with plump, juicy blueberries. A drizzle of maple syrup glistened on top and pooled around the base.

Aurelia was sitting at the table stuffing her face with food, wearing her mother's clothes. Every time she eagerly picked up her fork, ready to take another large bite, her eyes lit up with delight. Nearby, Antonella stood at the stove with a slight smile as she flipped the last pancake.

"Wow, Aurelia, you're eating like a pig that hasn't eaten in ten years."

Aurelia snorted. "Well then, I wouldn't be eating at all because a pig that hasn't eaten in ten years is a dead pig."

"Whatever," Antonella laughed. "You know what I mean."

Her gaze was suddenly dark. "Were you starved in that wedding? I swear on everything that if you were starved—"

"Mami, don't worry, no one starved me. We were about to eat but then I got thrown out of my own wedding—quite literally, in fact."

"What?!" Antonella exclaimed. "Which bastard threw you out? I will throw them to their grave!"

"No, Mami," Aurelia replied as she took another bite. "Honestly, I think it was my fault."

Antonella leaned against the wall. "Interesting. Elaborate."

"Well, I was drunk at my own wedding, so of course I did something wrong. But frankly, I can't remember anything that happened. But I do know that my body is covered in bruises. I think I fell somewhere, I don't know."

"Bruises? That's odd..." Antonella muttered. "Do you want to lift your shirt up and show me?"

Aurelia raised her shirt above her stomach to reveal four nasty red marks welted in her skin.

At the sight, Antonella's eyes widened in shock. Her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth went into a small frown. "Aurelia! What happened to you?"

"I can't exactly recall," Aurelia replied as she dug her fork into yet another pancake.

"I know that you got into a fight, mija. Just look at yourself! That many bruises don't just pop up after you fall somewhere."

Suddenly, Aurelia remembered a bit of the event the day before. She slapped her forehead with an "Ohhh!"

"Yes, Mami, I remember now. I fought this really important woman because she kept insulting me. I pulled her hair and punched her face, and I think she broke my ribcage. I think I won, though. Next time I'll use her stupid hair to mop the floor."

"María!"

Uh-oh. Aurelia knew that it was never a good thing when her mother addressed her by her middle name, especially in that snappy manner.

"Um... yes?"

Antonella stood with her hands on her hips, her frustration palpable as she glared at her daughter who now crouched in her chair, arms crossed defensively.

"Really, María? You got into a fight at your own wedding?" she exclaimed, exasperation lacing her voice. "Do you even understand what you've done?"

Aurelia rolled her eyes, her fiery spirit undeterred. "She was being unfair! Like, why would she insult me repeatedly?"

Antonella sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. "What did she even say to you?"

Aurelia shrugged. "Um, I don't know. But I know it was something really, really disrespectful."

Antonella's frustration deepened. She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. "I understand wanting to stand up for yourself, but there are ways to do it that don't involve throwing punches."

Aurelia opened her mouth to respond, but Antonella held up a hand, trying to rein in her rising emotions. "I'm not saying you're wrong for defending yourself. That's good. But you can defend yourself in other ways. You should've thought about the consequences."

"I was drunk, I couldn't think at all."

The weight of the moment hung between them, a tense silence settling as Antonella searched her daughter's face for understanding. Finally, Aurelia's posture softened, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features.

"I just… I didn't want her to walk all over me."

"She technically did. I see that her heels jabbed into your stomach."

Aurelia remained silent.

"Who even fought with you?"

"Um," Aurelia mumbled. "I can't recall."

Of course she could recall. Who would ever forget the face of the beautiful, powerful Russian and her husband? But obviously, Aurelia would never tell her mother that, or she would add to her injuries.

"I know that you were feeling disrespected. But you can make your point without burning bridges. That's not challenging for you."

Aurelia's head snapped up, her eyes blazing. "Well, how do you expect me not to 'burn bridges' when you're the one who almost killed me this morning?! It is challenging for me because my only parental figure who I'm supposed to look up to is always burning bridges whenever she wants to make a point!"

Antonella paused, taken back. Yikes. Aurelia's voice had been sharper than intended. Her eyes drifted away from her mother's hurt face as the feeling of guilt filled every crease and crevice of her mind.

The worst part was the fact that Aurelia knew her mother was right and only wanted to look out for her. Aurelia was just stubborn and didn't like to be told what to do by anyone. Her narcissism was having a devasting impact on her relationship with her mother.

"I'm sorry, Mami."

The three words were something that Antonella heard frequently, accompanied by the sound of her daughter's small voice trembling with regret. Each time, Antonella felt a mix of sympathy and concern, knowing that Aurelia was navigating the complex world on her own, where emotions often ran high and decisions felt heavy.

This time, however, she was floored by her daughter's reply and didn't know how to respond. Aurelia had never commented on her detrimental condition until today.

"You—you know I can't control myself right?" Antonella said. "Sometimes the medicine doesn't even help. Aurelia, I try my best, I really do!"

"I'm sorry!" Aurelia was close to tears.

Antonella stepped forward and ran her fingers through her daughter's hair. Her hair cascaded down her back like a flowing river of silk, catching the light with every movement. It was a deep chestnut brown, rich and warm, with subtle blonde highlights that danced in the morning light. 

"It's okay, mija. I understand what you may have been feeling, but you can't just snap at me like that when I'm trying to help you. Especially when you're under my roof."

Aurelia nodded, grateful for her mother's forgiveness. 

I really have the most forgiving mother ever, huh? she thought. Even though she's bipolar, she still tries her best to have mercy on me. Even after everything I've done...

"Speaking of roofs, why aren't you in your husband's house? What's his name... John? Joseph?"

"Jim. Well, Jimmy."

"Ah. So why aren't you over at his house?"

Aurelia paused. She wasn't at her husband's house out of fear she might go deaf from all the yelling. However, Aurelia would never tell her mother how hotheaded Jimmy was. She had to convince her that she and Jimmy were deep in love, the most lovey-dovey lovebirds in the world. 

"Uh, because I missed you."

"I hope you both get divorced soon. I never approved of you marrying a man old enough to be your grandfather. You know you look like a golddigger, right?"

"Trust me, I know," Aurelia snorted. "But we're really in love."

"Why would you even marry a man who might die any second from now? Do you want to be a widow?"

"No, Mami. But we love each other, so it's okay. At least we didn't start dating five years ago 'cause that would've been a case."

Antonella rolled her eyes and chuckled. "You're funny."

"I know," Aurelia smiled. 

"Too bad you can't give me any grandkids with that old man around."

"Mami! I'm only 22, I'm not thinking about making grandkids for you."

Antonella laughed but her smile suddenly fell when she realized she had burnt the pancake cooking on the pan. 

"Agh! I burned this one!"

"Aw man, I was looking forward to eating more."

"No, you ate too much," Antonella laughed. "Don't you have a hangover? Go throw up or something."

Aurelia giggled but stopped when she felt the urge to vomit. Her mother laughed once more as she ran to the bathroom.