Chapter 16
The day had started like any other. The sun was shining brightly outside, casting a warm glow through the windows of your home. But inside, a storm was brewing. The tension was palpable as you paced around your living room, trying to prepare yourself mentally for what was about to happen. Your mother was on her way, and she had made it clear that she wasn't happy about the choices you'd made. That, combined with the weight of your recent relationship with Vi, made your stomach twist in knots.
It had been a few weeks since you'd come out to your parents, and while you'd expected some pushback, nothing had prepared you for the full force of your mother's disapproval. She hadn't spoken to you much since the argument. But now, she was coming over—whether you were ready or not.
You heard the familiar sound of the doorbell, and a wave of dread washed over you. You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of how to even approach this conversation. It was only when you heard her voice calling your name from the front door that you took a deep breath and forced yourself to walk toward it.
"Hey, Mom," you said, trying to sound casual, though the tension was thick in your voice.
She stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, her heels clicking sharply against the wooden floor. Her expression was tight, disapproving, her posture as rigid as ever. The moment she set foot inside, you could feel the weight of her judgment. It wasn't just the disappointment on her face; it was the coldness in her demeanor. This wasn't a mother coming to check on her daughter—it was an inquisition.
"Where is she?" Your mother's voice was sharp, her eyes scanning the room with an almost predatory gaze. She was, as usual, in complete control.
"She's—" you started, but then the sound of the shower from the bathroom cut you off. You hesitated, your eyes darting nervously to the bathroom door. You hadn't planned on this; you hadn't expected your mom to show up today.
"Who is that?" Your mother's voice was barely above a whisper, but you could hear the disgust lacing her words.
You clenched your jaw and gave her a tight smile. "It's none of your business, Mom."
Your mother's eyes flashed with irritation. "It is my business when you've gone and—" she faltered for a moment, clearly not wanting to say the words. "When you've chosen to live this... lifestyle."
The air between you both grew thick with discomfort, but before you could say anything more, the bathroom door opened. Vi stepped out, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. She was wrapped in a towel, her pink hair still damp from the shower, and she was casually drying it with one hand. The sight of her was as casual as it was striking. There was no hesitation in her movements, no hint of discomfort. She was Vi—confident, brash, unapologetic.
But as she looked up and saw your mother standing in the middle of the room, her expression faltered for just a moment. It was subtle, but it was there—a brief flicker of recognition, followed by the cool confidence she usually wore like armor.
"Mom, this is Vi," you said, trying to soften the moment but knowing it was impossible. "Vi, this is my mom."
Vi gave your mom a casual nod, her eyes quickly flicking over her before returning to you. "Hey," she said, her voice low and unbothered. "Nice to meet you, I guess."
Your mother groaned under her breath, her hand clutching her purse like a shield. "Her again?" she spat, her eyes narrowing. "The stray?"
The term hit you like a slap. Stray. It was a word your mother had used for years to describe people who didn't fit her idea of what was acceptable—people who didn't fit in the neat little box she had created for herself and her family. The word felt like an insult, but you knew she meant it to sting. She was trying to dehumanize Vi.
Vi, to her credit, didn't flinch. She stood tall, unyielding, her eyes now locked with your mother's. "If by 'stray' you mean someone who doesn't take shit from anyone, then yeah, I guess that's me."
The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Your heart raced, unsure of how to handle the situation. You were caught between the two most important people in your life—your mother, the person who had raised you and shaped your life, and Vi, the person who had come to mean something much deeper than you could have imagined.
"She's not a stray, Mom," you snapped, your patience wearing thin. "Vi is important to me. And I don't appreciate you calling her that."
Your mother's eyes hardened, her lips curling in a sneer. "Important? This—this woman—" she gestured dismissively toward Vi, as though her very presence was something distasteful. "She's not someone you should be around. It's unnatural. You're ruining your life, and I won't sit idly by while you destroy everything we've worked for."
The words hit you like a punch in the gut, but you didn't back down. "You don't get to control my life, Mom. I'm not living to meet your expectations. I'm living for me. And Vi—" you paused, your voice shaking slightly, but you steadied yourself, "Vi is everything you say I shouldn't want. And I don't care. I love her, and you need to deal with that."
For a moment, the room was silent. Your mother's face was red with anger, her mouth set in a firm line. Her disapproval was written all over her face, but there was also something else. Fear. Fear that you wouldn't fit into the perfect life she had planned for you. Fear that you had chosen something that would bring shame to the family name.
Vi, ever the silent observer, didn't say a word. She just stood there, towel still wrapped around her waist, her eyes never leaving your mom. The intensity between the two women could have ignited a fire.
"You think you can just throw everything away?" Your mother's voice was lower now, dangerous in its calm. "What about your future? Your career? This—this is just a phase. You'll regret it. You'll see. You can't just keep throwing away your responsibilities for someone like her."
You felt your blood boil. "You have no idea who she is. Or who I am." Your voice cracked on the last part, but you fought to keep your composure. "Vi is a hell of a lot more than what you think she is. And I won't stand by while you tear her down like this. She's my choice. She makes me happy. And I'm not going to apologize for that."
The silence that followed was deafening. Your mom's eyes flickered between you and Vi, and for the first time, she seemed unsure of how to proceed. Her grip on her purse tightened, her knuckles white.
"You need to leave," you said, your voice firm now. You knew this was the point of no return. There was no way to undo the words that had been spoken, but you weren't going to back down. Not now. Not for anyone.
Your mom's face flushed with rage, but she didn't say anything else. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the hallway.
You stood there, feeling the weight of the confrontation settle over you. But when you turned to look at Vi, her eyes were soft. Her usual tough exterior had cracked just enough for you to see the concern hidden beneath it.
"I'm sorry," Vi said quietly, her voice full of sincerity. "Didn't mean to make things harder for you."
You shook your head, walking over to her and gently taking her hand. "You didn't. I meant what I said, Vi. I'm not going to let them control me anymore. Not when it comes to you."
Vi's lips curled into a small, genuine smile. "You're a hell of a lot stronger than you think, you know that?"
You smiled back, the weight of your mother's departure finally starting to lift. The storm was far from over, but for the first time, you felt like you could stand your ground. And with Vi by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next. Together.