It’s Not About Love
I hear the screech of Aiden’s chair against the floor and his footsteps as he follows me to the foyer.
He catches my hand, intertwining our fingers as he turns me to face him. He has to lower his head to look at me, and he cups my cheek with his hand. “Alina?”
I close my eyes and hum in response.
“Are you okay? I know this is weird, but we can deal with it. It doesn’t all have to be bad.”
I nod, letting my head drop against his chest.
“Do you want to stay over tonight?”
“I want to, but I think I need to go home. Talk to my mom.”
He sighs. “Yeah, I guess that’s the smart thing to do.”
Mother stomps down the hall, apologizing to Jake and Aiden. She stops only for a second
beside me.
“You’re coming home with me. Say goodbye,” she whispers into my ear, low and angry.
She squeezes Aiden’s bicep and smiles at him. “Goodnight, Aiden. We’ll see each other
soon, I hope.”
Aiden nods, watching her walk away before returning his attention back to me. “Text me,
okay? I want to make sure you’re okay after your… conversation.”
I try to smile, but I’m cut off as he leans toward me, cupping the back of my neck. He kisses me hard, shoving his tongue into my mouth. I wrap my arms around his neck and push myself to the tips of my toes as I welcome the deep kiss, the warm caress of his
tongue.
Fuck, I don’t want to go home.
We pull apart when Jake clears his throat behind Aiden.
I shoot him a glare and say a quick goodbye before following my mother out of the house.
1/4
It’s Not About Love
The car ride home is a thick, choking silence. My mind races, and I notice the way her hands tighten around the wheel of the car.
How did this even happen? My mother is marrying Jake, Jake.
We step inside the house, and the door has barely shut before my mother spins around, eyes blazing. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she hisses.
I shut my mouth and look at her.
She drops her bag on the floor and crosses her arms over her chest. “Do you have any idea how you embarrassed me tonight?”
“Embarrassed you?” My voice is sharp, barely containing the anger that’s been building.
She cocks her head, looking at me like she never even thought of the possibility of her
embarrassing me.
“How can you even think about marrying him? What about Dad?”
She scoffs like she’s already tired of the conversation. “Don’t throw your father in my face. I already told you. You know this isn’t about love, Alina. It’s about stability. It’s about a life I’ve always dreamed of but never had.”
“I didn’t think you were being serious. You’re moving way too fast!”
What I really want to tell her is that she cannot marry the man I lost my virginity to, but saying that feels like a betrayal to Jake.
Mother laughs, the sound biting into my brain. “Don’t lecture me. I’m your mother. I’m
the adult here.”
I shake my head, disbelief gnawing at me. “You think using a man for money is mature?”
Her mouth tightens. “Call it whatever you want. Jake understands, anyway. He’s a widower too, and he’s well aware that I don’t have to love him to marry him. He’s already promised me that I won’t have to share a room or… anything else with him. He can provide, and he’s willing to let me have my own space. That’s what I need.”
My stomach churns as she speaks, each word more ridiculous than the last. I hate, hate, desperately hate the fact that it makes me feel better to hear that. They aren’t intimate,
2/4
It’s Not About Love
and they don’t plan to be.
I huff a breath. “So, it’s all about the money, then? Not even a shred of… liking him?”
She waves me off, dismissing me as if I’m being overly dramatic. “Stop being so naïve, Alina. Life isn’t some fairytale, and marriages don’t need to be built on love to work. I had
that with your father, and I will never have it again.”
Her voice cracks, the pain of dad’s death evident. For the first time in what seems like
months, she reminds me that there was a time she loved dad.
She clears her throat, straightening her expression. “This arrangement is mutual and practical. I don’t need to ‘like‘ him for it to serve its purpose.”
I stare at her, stunned, and words fail me. She flips her hair and walks away, leaving me to my running mind.
Somniphobia – Fear of sleep or falling asleep.
Eisoptrophobia – Fear of mirrors or one’s reflection.
Aulophobia – Fear of flutes.
Chronomentrophobia – Fear of clocks.
Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia – Ironically, fear of long words.
I repeat the words in my head over and over again as I close my eyes and the world spins around me. I had stopped making lists in my head because I had truly believed I didn’t
need them anymore.
Today has changed that. I need to shove Jake completely out of my mind. Whatever connection I thought we had, whatever feelings I feel for him, they need to disappear.
I shove every twisting emotion down and make my way to the bathroom. I take a long
shower, letting the water wash over me until it turns cold and then head to bed. I’m exhausted, but not physically,
My head is pounding, my throat thick with anxiety.
I don’t even try to dry my hair, I just plop onto my bed and cry as I look up at my ceiling.
3/4
It’s Not About Love
The time passes but I continue to toss and turn, each attempt to get comfortable only making my stomach twist tighter. The blanket feels suffocating, my skin hot and restless. Every time I close my eyes, the image of Jake’s intense gaze and my mom’s oblivious smile replay in my mind, like a cruel loop I can’t escape.
Eisoptrophobia – The fear of mirrors or seeing one’s reflection.
Syngenesophobia – The fear of relatives.
Suddenly, there’s a soft tap on my window. My heart stops, and for a moment, all I hear is the rush of blood in my ears. My eyes go to my window, but I cannot see anything past the curtains.
I wait, my breath bated.
The knock sounds again.
Holding my breath, I push back the curtain and dare a peek outside.
