Samatha’s POV

My monthly family dinner wasn’t all that terrifying. I mean it wasn’t actually.

My mom was really cool and my stepdad? He wasn’t around most of the time.

It wasn’t that I dreaded seeing them—it’s just… they could be a little much. My mom with her endless fussing, my stepdad with his constant suggestions about what I should be doing with my life. Not cruel, not harsh, just… overbearing in that “we know what’s best for you” way parents loved to disguise as concern.

By the time I dropped Chloe off and began heading back home, I had already rehearsed my polite smiles and “mm-hmms.”

The moment I got into the house, I dropped my bag by the couch and kicked off my shoes, padding straight into the kitchen where Mom was still busy at the stove.

Living here meant this was routine—I could already predict that dinner would be ready right about the time my stepdad walked in from work, and Mom would still insist I “relax” instead of helping.

The front door clicked open a few minutes later, right on cue. Heavy footsteps, the rustle of his jacket being shrugged off, and then his voice filling the house.

“Sam, you’re home early.”

I turned as he stepped into the kitchen, tall and broad-shouldered, loosening his tie like he was in one of those commercials for men’s cologne. My stepdad, Edmund, wasn’t a bad guy. Actually, he was the kind of man people instantly liked—warm smile, firm handshake, the sort who adored my mom like she hung the moon. Which I guess made him easy to tolerate.

“Yeah, I had an earlier shift today,” I said, forcing a small smile.

He gave me a slow nod like he was processing something, then he leaned down to kiss Mom on the cheek before stealing a peek into the pot. “Smells amazing, honey. As always.”

She blushed like a teenager, her blue eyes flashing with affection as she swatted at his arm, and I instantly turned back to the counter, pretending to busy myself with my phone. I loved seeing her happy—God knows she deserved it after all she had been through with my real father—but sometimes they just got a little too wrapped up in their own little bubble.

Seeing that mom was still busy with the food and wouldn’t let me help out, I decided to set the table—and minutes later, we were all seated facing each other with a roasted chicken and mashed potatoes laid out right in front of us.

“So Sammie…” Mom began with a warm smile. “Uh… how’s… work at the cafe?” I could tell from the way she hesitated that she didn’t exactly view working at the café as a real career but she didn’t want to say anything about it so she wouldn't ‘hurt my feelings’.

“It’s fine.” I said before swallowing my food. “Everything’s fine.”

“Have you… met anyone?” She gave me a knowing look before reaching across the table and closing her hand over mine softly.

I stared at her hand for a second before meeting her gaze with a little smile, while my stepdad just sat there chewing on his food, not wanting to interrupt the mother-daughter talk.

Ugh. I’m getting too old for this.

Why did I choose to live here instead of getting my own apartment again?

Oh right.

Mom here wanted to spend more time with her daughter since we’ve been apart for a ‘far too long’.

Apparently two years wasn’t enough for her. I don’t even understand why she’s still treating me like a teenager. I’m fucking twenty four.

“No mom, for the thousandth time I’m not seeing anyone.” I answered, fighting the urge to roll my eyes as I jabbed a piece of chicken with my fork.

“But why sweetheart? It’s been over two years since you came to stay with me and not once have I seen you with anyone.”

Oh God.

Was meddling in my love life the new normal now?

What was up with everyone?

“Mom please—”

“Sam…” Edmund spoke over me with a soft look, pursing his lips like he was trying to smooth down the sharp edges in the room.

I stiffened at being cut off, though I tried to play it off by keeping my eyes on my plate. My fork scraped against the porcelain as I lifted another bite, forcing myself to chew slowly instead of snapping back.

“Your mother just wants what’s best for you. We want what’s best for you,” he continued gently.

The fork hovered halfway to my mouth now.

“I know it feels like we’re always nagging, but…” his voice softened, “you’re not getting any younger, Sam.”

My hand froze, the fork pausing at my lips before I finally set it down against the edge of my plate with a dull clink, looking anywhere but their expectant faces.

“If I have to be honest I don’t even really like this job of yours,” Edmund’s words earned him a pointed glance from mom and I just let my gaze bounce between them as they eyed each other with knowing looks.

“I mean I support whatever decision you make…” he tried to change his words. “But you know you don’t always have to work at the café. Like I always say I can get you a job somewhere, or you can always come work with me at the company. Just like your brother, Jeremy. He’s already handling the legal affairs of the company and—”

“Can we please not talk about Jeremy?” The words slipped out sharper than I meant, but I didn’t bother to take them back.

My parents never missed a chance to bring him up. Jeremy the perfect son, Jeremy the corporate attorney, Jeremy running half the company before he even hit thirty.

To me though, Jeremy wasn’t impressive—he was just infuriating. He was insufferable, arrogant, smug, and annoying. Very, very annoying.

He was the golden child who could do no wrong and I know my mom was doing her best to hide it but I could see very clearly that she wasn’t happy with my choices in life.

I plastered on a polite smile, because snapping definitely wasn’t worth it, “Let’s just eat, yeah?” I bowed my head after the words left my mouth, pretending to focus on the chicken on my plate instead of the heavy silence that followed.

The scrape of cutlery against porcelain filled the air, and I forced myself to chew, to swallow, to act like I hadn’t just derailed dinner.

Inside though, my chest tightened.

I hated how easy it was for my parents to make me feel small. I hated how they always talked about the decisions I needed to make and how I needed to create a better future for myself.

I mean it was my life, wasn’t it?

My shoulders eased downward as I let out a soft sigh.

Guess I have no choice now.

I’m going on that date.