Ella
I open my eyes, wincing at the bright light shining into the room. It's been a long time since I've been in this place, and the luxurious room brings back memories.
My mother, January Reina, sits down on the bed before I've really woken up, throwing her arms around me and bursting into tears. "Oh, my girl! My beautiful baby girl!"
Memories of last night are slowly starting to return to me. As powerful and life-changing as my meeting with George was yesterday, my fever just got worse. Thankfully, I called my mom before I collapsed in the lobby of the building.
She brought me back to my childhood home in New York. She put me to bed and gave me medicine. Now, I can tell my fever broke through the night. Mother sometimes really does know best.
"How are you feeling? Are you okay?" she coos, pulling away as she takes in the sight of me. She pushes strands of my brown hair behind my ears as though I'm a child once again. It doesn't feel wrong or bad to hear her speak like this. I've missed her so damn much. I watch her eyes scan over me, and the genuine anxiety I've caused her makes me feel guilty.
I nod, letting her baby me. It's been a few years since I've been home.
Or, actually, since mother has seen me and spoken to me. And the rest of my family.
I can see and feel the concern coming off her in waves. I know my choice to cut her and the rest of the family off wasn't well-received. But I was forced to choose between them and my husband.
They never liked him, and I was angry at them for pre-judging him. And I was foolishly in love with George, only seeing him as a handsome and glamorous man who adored me. The objections I heard every time I was around my family were enough to end the contact between us and go to George as though I've been an orphan the entire time.
"I feel better," I admit to her as she strokes my cheek. "I think the fever broke in the night."
She feels my forehead with a sigh, tears still spilling down her cheeks. "You're definitely not as bad as you were when I picked you up. Just needed some TLC from your mom to fix you up."
I hug her again, mostly because I MISSED her. I know she was heartbroken by my choices over three years ago, but being held by January just makes me feel a strength I haven't felt in years.
"Honestly, if I had seen that man, I would have given him every goddamn word in the dictionary to tell him what he did wrong with my daughter."
I can't help but chuckle slightly, feeling my own tears forming in the corner of my eyes. "Mom."
"What? He deserves a scolding for every goddamn mistake! He doesn't give a shit about how he hurts MY daughter? How his plights have dragged you through hell and back? Why should I be compassionate toward him?"
I deserve to hear all of this, truthfully. I'm the one who pushed her and everyone else away. After all, they were all right, and I was wrong.
I chose George over my family. I chose what I believed to be love and happiness over stability and security. Then I spent three years proving that my initial choice to marry this man was wrong and a grave error.
At least I'm not too proud to admit my mistakes.
"I know. I should have listened to you. ALL of you."
Mom sighs. "The proud princess admits defeat? That's not the Ella I know or raised."
"But you're right. I've never felt so... wretched toward myself. It's pitiful, and I'm glad to be rid of him and shed the skin of my old life."
She caresses my cheek, watching me for a moment. I wonder if she's recalling old memories of me, her baby, being home every day. I've missed her so profoundly that it felt like a wound that could never heal again.
"I'm glad you're home, love. We've all been worried sick. Three years is far too long."
I wipe under my eyes to keep the moisture from falling. "I didn't mean to make you all worry for me. I believed what I was doing was for the best. I'm an adult; you shouldn't have been constantly afraid for me."
I'm twenty-eight, and as I near thirty, I remind myself that I'm much too old for everyone to have anxiety over me. At this age, they should be worrying about their own lives. But even though my mother has been apprehensive, I feel my heart throb with appreciation and love.
"Sweetheart, you're my daughter. No matter what happens, where you go, or how old you are, I will ALWAYS be concerned about you and your happiness."
We wrap our arms around each other for a third time, and I let myself cry along with my mom. It's cathartic to cry in her arms after three quiet years. Hearing her heartbeat in her chest, smelling the same conditioner scent mixed with her favorite perfume of warm vanilla sugar, feels like I haven't missed a thing.
She's still January. I'm still Ella. And we're still mother and daughter.
A knock sounds on the bedroom door, and we both call that it's open. The door swings open, and my older brother Vinny walks in, smoothing his hair down. His hair is brown, like mine.
I get giddy, jumping up to see my thirty-something brother.
"Vinny!" I squeal. He's got several inches on me, and he spins me around as we embrace. Something about seeing him hits me harder than being reunited with Mom, and old memories are triggered once more.
Vinny puts me down after a few spins, ruffling my hair. "Hey, knucklehead, I missed ya."
"Back at you. Staying out of trouble?" I counter.
"Says the kid who ran face-first into a wall on a dare when we were kids."
"Hey, I lived, didn't I?"
"And yet, you still managed to scar your cheek from falling on the ground and passing out," January chides. "Gave us quite the scare. It's how we ended up at the ER for the first time since either of you was born."
"What can I say? I love giving this one a hard time," Vinny teases, winking at me.
"What are you doing here, anyway?" I question, wanting to get off the subject of my stupidity from childhood. "You're not just here because I'm home, are you?"
"I'm here to celebrate, El. You getting a divorce from that clown? Best news I've had in months!" Vinny boasts, straightening out his blazer.
I'll admit, my brother is, in fact, a handsome man. He gives off a very kind, pleasant, and silly vibe that makes him a lot of money and attracts many women. He's always been good at his job in management and has done well for himself in these past several years. I look up to the man, and not just because he's taller.
"So, because I left George, you came home?" I clarify.
"Well, it is your birthday this week, so I'm here to inform you of a gift our mother gave you."
I turn to look at the woman who raised me. "It's not another horse, is it?" I tease.
"Better," she insists.
"It's a fucking castle, El. Like, you're not going to believe it when you see the damn thing."
Jaw dropping, I look at January like this is a joke.
"What can I say? I've missed my daughter. Besides, isn't it a mother's job to dote on her babies? No matter how old they get?"
I smirk at her. "If you insist."
"I'd also like to catch up if you're feeling up to it," Vinny adds. "Since it's been, oh, you know, three years since I fucking saw you."
I laugh as I roll my eyes. "Yes, yes, I get it. I married a man, and it ended poorly, so I came home. Please, keep reminding me as though it wasn't my reality for years!"
"I can do that, sis. I've got years of jokes and teasing coming your way."
"Why don't we let Ella change out of these clothes? We can eat breakfast together. How does that sound?" January asks, standing up. "What can our chef whip up for you, baby?"
I don't even hesitate. "Chocolate-chip pancakes."
I may have learned to cook and bake, but our cook, Pratt, has always been much stronger in the pancake field. If there's one dish I missed since being gone, it's those damn pancakes.
The two nod and head out of the room, allowing me a moment of reprieve to change and take in some air. I don't have any reason to dress up quite yet, so I grab a t-shirt from the small bag I packed after I left the apartment for the last time.
I shimmy into some jeans and throw on the plain t-shirt, slipping on some nice booties George bought me for some occasion.
Back when it seemed like he gave a shit about me.
I shake my head. Focus, Ella. That's not your life anymore. That's not your husband.
He's someone else's problem now.
I head downstairs and meet with my family in the dining room. A thought crosses my mind, and I voice my question immediately.
"Vinny, would it be alright if I borrow your company's account for a minute?"
Vinny has managed the Warner Bros film company for years. Yes, THAT world-renowned company that is known for thousands of incredible movies.
I know that the company has several subsidiary accounts, and that's exactly where I plan to start.
My brother smirks, handing over his phone without any resistance.
Thanking him, I take the phone, making my moves while I continue to feel my confidence grow in not only my previous life but also for killing my married life. How could I have let this happen to me or even my family?
It's like a tightness in my chest has finally released, air filling me up so I can finally breathe. I missed being in this house with these people that I love. The mansion was always a happy home to Vinny and me, and I'm glad to be back.
Sneering sarcastically at the image on the screen, I close out the apps I'd used, one at a time.
I know George never loved me and never would. So, after all the grievances I've been forced to suffer, the loss of a family that I always needed emotional support from, and the destruction of our marriage, I'm done playing nice.