MAFIA’s OBSESSION

Chapter Three

I stared at my phone, the screen lighting up the dimly lit room like a beacon of hope. Olivia or Vee, as we liked to call her had sent a couple of cheerful GIFs to our three person group chat reminding Kimberly and I of our weekly Sunday brunch.I wanted to tell them everything, to vent about my day and the betrayal I just endured, but I hesitated. What would I even say? I’m already having a hard time processing everything I’ve just been through, I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it with my friends just yet. They’d drop everything to be there for me, and while that was comforting, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t want to burden either of them. They had their own lives to deal with, and I was just the emotional wreck who couldn’t keep her job or her boyfriend. I took a deep breath, weighing my options.

“Cleo?” I could almost hear Vee’s voice, light and teasing, urging me to share my troubles. These girls have been with me through it all since our college days and I can’t help but feel like I’m the only one yet to get my s**t together. Mom's soothing tone came to mind, reminding me of the countless times I had sought refuge in her wisdom. My parents’ house was not so far from here in small town Hudson , and it was familiar, a place that held so many memories both good and bad. Before I could overthink it, I dialed my mom’s number. She picked up on the second ring, her voice warm and inviting. “Cleo! Sweetheart, how are you?”

“I… I’m okay, Mom.” I forced the words out, even though my voice trembled slightly. “Are you sure? You sound a bit off. Do you want to come over for dinner? I’ll make your favorite.” The thought of my mom’s homemade lasagna made my heart ache a little. “Yeah, I’d love that. I’ll be there soon.” “Okay, sweetie. I can’t wait to see you.”

As I drove through the familiar streets, memories washed over me. I remembered playing in the backyard, my mother watching over me with that gentle smile, and my father laughing as he taught me how to ride a bike. But the memories were tinged with darker shades, arguments in the night, the weight of my father’s gambling debts, and the fear that had settled in my chest during those chaotic times.

When I arrived at my childhood home, the familiar scent of baked goods greeted me. My mom was in the kitchen, apron on, humming to herself. “Cleo!” She turned, her eyes lighting up at the sight of me. “There you are, sweetheart!”

“Hey, Mom.” I walked into the warmth of the kitchen, allowing her embrace to envelop me. It felt so good to be home. “Are you hungry? I just pulled the lasagna out of the oven. It should be ready in about ten minutes.” “Starving,” I admitted, trying to push aside the turmoil swirling in my mind.

“Why don’t you set the table while I finish up?” she suggested, her hands busy stirring a pot on the stove.

I nodded, moving to grab the dishes from the cupboard. “Mom, can we talk? Like, really talk?” She turned to me, her brow furrowing slightly. “Of course, honey. What’s going on?” I paused, unsure of where to start. How do you tell your mother that you feel like a failure? That you just lost your job and your boyfriend in the span of a few hours? “It’s just… work has been a nightmare lately,” I said, trying to ease into it. “And Josh… well, I caught him with someone else.”

Her expression shifted to concern, and she stepped closer, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Oh, Cleo. I’m so sorry. I had a feeling things weren’t right between you two.” “Yeah, well, it sucks that I didn’t even see this coming, I was so comfortable in my world that I didn’t even realize it slipping away.” I let out a bitter laugh, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.

She reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. “You deserve so much better, sweetheart. You know that, right?” “I know, but I’m just… I feel like a mess. And to top it off, I lost my job today. I got fired because of some stupid misunderstanding.” “Fired? Cleo, what happened?”

“Suspended actually but the job’s as good as gone and I’m not even sure what happened. My coworker Ethan orchestrated this whole thing that made it look like I was responsible for a mistake or should I say series of mistakes . He’s been gunning for my position ever since he transferred.” “Oh, sweetheart.” Her voice was thick with sympathy. “That sounds so frustrating. You work so hard, and it’s not fair that he would do that to you.” I sighed, feeling the familiar ache of betrayal. “And now I’m stuck back here. I just wanted a break, you know?” My mom pulled me into another hug, and I melted into it, soaking in the warmth of her love. “You’re safe here, Cleo. We’ll figure it out together. Take as much time as you need ” “Thanks, Mom.”

Just then, the front door creaked open, and my dad stepped inside. His presence brought an automatic shift in the air something heavy and tense. I felt a familiar knot in my stomach as I glanced at him.

“Cleo?!” he called, surprise eveident in his tone “Dad,” I greeted, forcing a smile. He looked slightly worn, his hair tousled and his shirt crumpled. “Welcome home kid”. “What’s for dinner honey?” He said to mom

“Lasagna,” my mom replied, her voice brightening a bit. “Just in time!” “Great.” He walked toward the kitchen, but I could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as they landed on me. It was the same look he always wore when he knew he’d messed up in the past, when he was trying to be better but the weight of his history still hung around his neck. “Cleo,” he started, his tone more cautious than usual. “How have you been?” “I’m okay,” I lied, feeling the tension between us. “Just had a rough day.” “Yeah?” He scratched the back of his neck, the old nervous habit resurfacing. “Sorry to hear that.” Dinner started, and I forced myself to engage in light conversation, despite the undercurrent of tension.

“How’s work been, Dad?” I asked, attempting to shift the focus off me. He smiled weakly. “Busy, as usual. But I’ve been trying to keep everything in check. You know how it is.” “Yeah.” I nodded, remembering the countless nights of him leaving for work, promising to come back early but often returning late and tired.

“What about you, Cleo?” he asked, a little too eagerly. “Still working at that gallery?” “Uh, not anymore.” I cringed at the admission, glancing at my mom, who was watching me with concern. “I got fired today.”

“Oh.” He looked taken aback. “I’m sorry to hear that.” “Yeah, it’s been a rough day.” “Want to talk about it?” he asked, surprising me. “Not really.” I shook my head, not ready to dive into those murky waters. “Okay.” He dropped the subject, and we ate in relative silence, the weight of unspoken words lingering around the table.

After dinner, I excused myself to the living room, needing a moment to breathe. I sank into the familiar couch, pulling a throw pillow to my chest as memories swirled in my mind, memories of family gatherings, laughter, but also the darker times I tried to forget.

“Cleo?” My mom’s voice broke through my thoughts, and she appeared in the doorway. “You okay?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. She sat down beside me, her presence grounding. “You know, I always wanted better for you, for both of you,” she said softly. “You deserve happiness, sweetheart.” “I don’t even know what that looks like anymore,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “You’ll find your way. Just give yourself time.”

As I sat there, surrounded by the memories of my childhood and the warmth of my mother, I felt a flicker of hope. It might take time, but maybe, just maybe, I could start to put the pieces back together.