MAFIA’s OBSESSION

Chapter Four

I woke up to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains, the scent of fresh linen and vanilla in the air. For a moment, I let myself believe I was sixteen again, waking up for another ordinary day of high school, where my biggest concerns were pop quizzes and whether I had time to grab a bagel before class. Then, I glanced at my phone, and the reality of my spectacularly ruined life came crashing back.

Unemployed. Betrayed. Living in my childhood bedroom like a washed-up pop star trying to relive her glory days. I groaned and rolled onto my side, staring at the ceiling. The familiar cracks in the paint were still there, the posters I had taped up in my teenage years still clinging to the walls, and my old bookshelf stood untouched, packed with books I once swore I’d read again but never did. My mom had kept everything the same.

Sighing, I forced myself out of bed, slipping on a hoodie before making my way to the kitchen. The smell of pancakes and coffee filled the air, instantly making me feel like a kid again. My mom stood by the stove, flipping a pancake with a practiced flick of her wrist, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. The radio played softly in the background, an old R&B song that she used to dance to while cooking.

She turned, giving me a warm smile. “Morning, sweetheart.” I plopped onto one of the barstools, rubbing my face. “Morning.” “Sleep okay?” she asked, pouring syrup over a stack of pancakes. I hesitated. “I slept.” She gave me a knowing look but didn’t press. Instead, she set a plate in front of me. “Eat.”

I picked up my fork, cutting into the pancake. “You still make these the exact same way.” “Well, some things don’t change,” she said, grabbing her own plate and sitting across from me. “You used to eat four of these in one sitting.” I smirked. “High metabolism.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s a thing of the past.” I shrugged, focusing on my food. We ate in silence for a moment before she asked, “So… what’s the plan for today?” let out a slow breath. “I have no idea. I kind of just want to stay inside and pretend the outside world doesn’t exist.” She nodded. “I get that. But if you get stir-crazy, I need a few things from the store.” I debated saying no, but honestly, a small errand sounded better than sitting in my old room and marinating in my emotions all day. “Yeah, okay,” I said.

She smiled. “Good. Fresh air never hurt anyone.”

The grocery store was exactly how I remembered it small, slightly outdated, and filled with people who probably knew my entire life story. I stood in the baking aisle, scanning the shelves for brown sugar, when a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks. “Cleo?” turned, and there she was Maya Clarkson. Except, unlike the last time I saw her, she was very pregnant. “Maya?” My brain took a second to catch up. She grinned, placing a hand on her belly. “Holy crap, it is you! Look at you, all city-girl chic.” I glanced down at my oversized hoodie and leggings. “Right. Super chic.” She laughed, Maya and I used to get along well in high school but we just sort of lost that when we both left town for college, she decided to return back to Hudson while I got a job in New York. “Wow. I haven’t seen you since high school! What are you doing here? Visiting?”

I hesitated. “Something like that.” Maya’s eyes narrowed playfully. “You’re being weird. Spill.” I sighed, shifting my basket to my other arm. “Long story short? I lost my job, found out my boyfriend’s a cheating asshole, and now I’m having a quarter-life crisis in my childhood bedroom.” Maya’s jaw dropped. “Oh, damn. I was not expecting all that.” “Yeah. Fun times.” She winced. “Okay, first of all, your ex sounds like an absolute trash bag.” “Correct.” “And second, I’m so sorry. That’s… a lot.” I forced a smile. “It’s fine. I’ll survive.” She tilted her head. “You sure? Because you kind of look like you’re one inconvenience away from a full-blown meltdown.” I let out a dry laugh. “That’s… not inaccurate.”

Maya studied me for a second, then her face lit up. “You know what? You need good news. You want to hear something crazy?” I blinked. “Do I?” “I married Jason.” I choked on my own saliva. “Wait. Jason? Jason Cooper?” She beamed. “Yep. High school sweetheart, still going strong.” She placed a hand on her belly. “And this little one is his.” I stared at her, my brain scrambling to process this information. “You’re still with Jason?” “Ten years together now,” she said proudly. “He proposed after college, and we got married two years ago. Now we’re expecting our first baby. Wild, right?” Wild wasn’t the word I’d use. More like stab me in the heart and twist the knife. Maya and Jason had been together since sophomore year. They were that couple always holding hands in the hallway, always cuddling at parties, always making the rest of us look like we were doing relationships wrong. And now, here she was, married, pregnant, and glowing, while I was standing in a grocery store wearing three-day-old leggings, trying not to cry over brown sugar. She smiled. “And get this, I own a flower shop now. It’s a few blocks down. Small place, but it’s mine. Business is good.” Of course it was. Of course Maya had the perfect husband, the perfect pregnancy, and the perfect little flower shop. “Wow,” I said, plastering on a smile. “That’s amazing.” She beamed. “Yeah, it’s been a dream come true. And you? What’s next for you?” I opened my mouth, then closed it. What was next for me?

More unemployment? More heartbreak? More awkward run-ins with people who had their lives figured out?

Maya must have noticed the existential crisis brewing in my eyes because she quickly added, “Hey, if you ever need a job, I could always use an extra set of hands at the shop.” I forced a laugh. “Thanks, but I think I’d be a disaster in a flower shop. I kill every plant I touch.” She giggled. “Fair enough.”

We chatted for a few more minutes before she gave me another hug and waddled off to check out. I stood there for a moment, still processing.

Maya Clarkson now Maya Cooper had a whole life: a family, a business, stability. And me? I was back where I started. Sighing, I grabbed the brown sugar and headed for the checkout.

Maybe coming home wasn’t going to be as simple as I thought.