Chapter 2
1138 Words
ADRIANNA
Where is Mom?
A sudden wave of anxiety hit me.
What the hell was going on?
Why would she sell our house without telling me?
I might not have come home often, but Mom and I still kept in touch. There wasn't a single week that went by without us talking. If we didn't call, we texted. If we didn't text, we chatted online.
So how could she sell our house without saying a single word?
Something wasn't right.
I climbed back into my car and dug through my bag for my phone.
I immediately dialed Mom's number.
After a couple of rings she answered.
“Hello, sweetheart. Why are you calling?”
“Thank God!” I breathed out the moment I heard her voice. “I thought something happened to you. Where are you?”
“Uh… I'm at home.”
I frowned.
She was lying.
I was literally standing in front of our house, and the gate was locked. There was no way anyone was inside.
What was she supposed to be doing in there anyway? Locking herself inside?
“What's going on, Mom? Is something wrong?”
“What's there to be wrong?”
“I don't know. Money problems? Something like that?” I hesitated before adding, “Or worse… are you sick?”
My voice filled with concern.
I couldn't stop my mind from jumping to the worst conclusions.
Maybe she was sick and had been hiding it from me. Maybe that was why she'd sold the house.
I heard her laugh softly on the other end.
“What are you talking about, sweetheart? Your mother is still perfectly healthy. I could probably still have another baby.”
I blinked.
Excuse me?
That had to be one of the weirdest jokes I'd ever heard from my mother.
“Are you sure you're okay?” I asked. “You're not keeping something from me, are you?”
She didn't answer immediately.
There was a few-second pause before she finally spoke, but she completely ignored my question.
“What's gotten into you, sweetheart? Why are you asking me all these strange questions?”
“Because I'm standing in front of our house.”
I paused.
“Or should I say… what used to be our house?”
There.
I finally said it.
If she wasn't going to tell me the truth, then I might as well force it out of her.
I heard her sigh.
“Go to your Uncle Omar's restaurant for now. Someone will pick you up there. Then we'll talk.”
“Mom—”
Click.
She hung up.
I stared at my phone.
“What the hell is going on?”
I was even more confused than before.
But since I had nowhere else to go, I did what she asked.
I drove to Uncle Omar's restaurant, my father's best friend when he was still alive.
I glanced at the time on my phone as I pulled into the parking lot.
Almost four in the afternoon.
When I walked inside, I couldn't help but look around in surprise.
Wow.
The place had changed.
It looked bigger, cleaner, and much more polished than I remembered.
Apparently, Uncle Omar had renovated the entire restaurant.
I took a seat at the bar and waited for whoever Mom had sent to pick me up.
A few minutes later, Uncle Omar emerged from the kitchen.
The moment he saw me, his eyes widened.
“Is that you, Adrianna?”
I smiled.
I stood up and gave him a respectful greeting.
“It's been forever since I've seen you!” he exclaimed. “So, what's new? Have you finally gotten yourself a man?”
I stared at him.
“Gotten myself a what?”
“A man.”
He grinned.
“You know… hooked up, fallen in love, gotten swept off your feet. In other words, do you have a boyfriend? Or perhaps a future husband?”
I nearly choked.
Wow.
That was quite the definition of dating.
“Nothing like that, Uncle. I'm still single.”
“What?”
He looked genuinely disappointed.
“Your mother beat you to it!”
I froze.
Wait.
What did he mean by that?
If I'd been questioning my eyesight a few minutes ago, I was definitely questioning my hearing now.
“What exactly do you mean by that?”
Uncle Omar suddenly went quiet.
He looked like he'd just realized he'd said something he wasn't supposed to.
“Ah… your mother can explain that one.”
He immediately turned around.
“Anyway, I'll be right back. I've got something cooking in the kitchen.”
I stared after him.
What the hell was that?
He had definitely avoided my question.
Seriously.
What was everyone hiding from me?
I looked around the restaurant.
There was only one other customer, and he seemed to be finishing his meal.
I wondered what Uncle Omar was really going back into the kitchen for.
Something told me he was just looking for an excuse to escape.
A few moments later, one of the staff approached me with a drink.
“Ma'am, Sir said this is on the house.”
I smiled when I saw it.
A chocolate milkshake.
My favorite.
Uncle Omar still remembered.
I hadn't had one of these in years.
It brought back so many memories.
Whenever Mom, Dad, and I came here, this was always part of my order.
I took a slow sip while waiting for whoever Mom had sent to pick me up.
I tried calling her again.
No answer.
I texted her.
Nothing.
I sent her a message online.
Still nothing.
I finally gave up and simply told her I was already at the restaurant and waiting.
With nothing else to do, I pulled out my phone and started scrolling.
Reels.
Cooking videos.
More cooking videos.
I loved cooking.
Actually, I'd been thinking about starting a small food business when I came back home.
I'd saved enough money to get myself started.
Or at least, I thought I had.
Now I wasn't even sure where I'd be living.
My thoughts drifted back to the house.
Why had Mom sold it?
And why hadn't she told me?
The questions kept piling up.
Whoever was supposed to pick me up was taking forever.
I finished my milkshake.
Then another ten minutes passed.
Then another.
My eyes were beginning to hurt from staring at my phone, so I finally lowered it.
I was about to put it back into my bag when—
Ding!
The little bell above the restaurant door rang.
Someone had just walked in.
I looked up.
And the second I saw him, every thought in my head disappeared.
My breath caught.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
My fingers went cold.
Holy s**t.
He's here.
Brion.
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