Unmanaged Calm
It was my mother, Vivienne Moreau.
Dressed in a sleek pearl-gray dress that clung to her elegance like armor, she entered the room like a vision… poised, untouchable, and refined.
Her hair was perfect, every strand in place, her makeup impeccable as though she’d just stepped out of a high-society magazine spread.
Her eyes immediately found mine.
I sat like a crumpled figure in the aftermath of my own rebellion, the weight of the evening still pressing against my chest. The crown on my head felt like a shackle more than a prize.
“Cici,” she said, her voice smooth and composed, too much so, like someone reciting lines from a script they’ve rehearsed a thousand times.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Mom.”
Her gaze lingered there for a long moment, a silent weight pressing between us.
“I’ve been looking for you,” she said finally, her voice tight but steady.
“I needed space,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I understand,” she replied, though the shift in her tone… so subtle, so quick… told me she didn’t. Not entirely.
I could sense it now, that quiet, unspoken distance she’d always kept.
She didn’t sit beside me.
Didn’t touch me.
Instead, she remained standing, her body a rigid pillar of strength and grace. But it was a distance, a barrier, that felt like an ocean between us. Her presence loomed, cold and impenetrable.
“You caused quite a stir tonight,” she said, her tone careful, calculated, but not unkind. She didn’t raise her voice.
It was the kind of remark that could have easily sounded like a gentle reprimand, but instead, it hung in the air, heavier than I expected.
“I didn’t mean to,” I murmured, my words barely reaching the space between us.
“But you did,” she replied, finally turning to face me completely. Her eyes, sharp as knives, searched mine for some semblance of understanding. “You humiliated a man on stage. A man who clearly adores you.”
I flinched. The word “humiliated” hit me like a punch in the gut. The truth of it felt too raw.
“He blindsided me,” I whispered, feeling the weight of my own anger. “He didn’t even ask… He just assumed. I had no choice.”
Her gaze softened just a fraction, but her lips remained tight. “He was caught up in the moment. You know how men are when they’re in love. They act on impulse. That’s not a crime.”
I gritted my teeth. The words burned in my throat. “But what about me?” I couldn’t contain it anymore. “What about my choice? Don’t I get to decide?”
She didn’t answer me immediately. Instead, she sighed… quietly, heavily… as though she were processing something more than just my words. “Love isn’t always the point, Cecilia,” she replied softly, but there was a quiet finality in her tone that made my chest tighten. “Stability. Status. Influence. You know what this could’ve meant for you… marrying someone like Adrian? He’s well-connected. Respected. Charming. You’d have a future most girls would only dream of.”
I felt the weight of her words… “most girls”… crushing me. Was this what she truly thought? That a gilded cage was the prize?
I met her eyes. The sting behind my gaze burned like acid. “But I don’t want someone else’s dream. I want my own.”
Her lips pressed together in a thin line. “I understand,” she said, but it sounded rehearsed, like the words weren’t hers.
“No, you don’t,” I countered, my voice trembling now. “You never understood. Not really. You wanted what was easiest. What was safe. You wanted me to be “perfect”. But that’s not what I am. And that’s not what I’ll ever be.”
She took a long, steadying breath, her expression unreadable. The air between us thickened, charged with something neither of us could name.
“You were crowned Miss X tonight,” she said, her voice softening. “That crown comes with expectations. And now, all anyone will talk about is how you humiliated the most eligible bachelor in the room. How you ruined your chances of… ”
“I humiliated myself,” I whispered, cutting her off, my words hanging heavy in the air.
She said nothing for a long time.
Her gaze, sharp and calculating, never left me. Then she slowly folded her hands in her lap. “Because I stood there, in front of hundreds of people, and for a moment, I actually considered saying yes, just because it would’ve been easier.”
Her eyes glinted with something unreadable, and then she sighed, deeply. “I only want what’s best for you, Cici.”
I nodded slowly, but my mind was racing. The weight of everything… her expectations, the crown, Adrian, the pageant… it all began to feel like a crushing wave, threatening to swallow me whole.
“But you want it in a way that fits your idea of what’s best,” I said, the bitterness leaking into my voice.
Her face flickered with something I hadn’t expected… regret?
Guilt?
But then it was gone, like smoke dissipating in the wind.
“He’s not a bad man,” she said, her tone low.
“I know. But he’s not my man,” I said, the finality of it hanging between us.
She nodded, and for a moment, I saw something in her eyes… a flash of vulnerability, something real that had been hidden for so long. It took me off guard.
“I was scared too, you know,” she said, almost in a whisper, so quietly that for a second, I thought I had imagined it. “When your father proposed to me. I didn’t love him at first. But I grew to. Sometimes love comes after the leap.”
Her words were a slap of truth, something I hadn’t expected. I looked away from her, not because I didn’t hear her, but because I did.
“I’m not you,” I said, the words raw and jagged.
She didn’t respond at first. Just watched me, as if she could see through every layer I’d built. Finally, she exhaled slowly, a mixture of resignation and pride.
“No,” she said, her voice softening, “You’re not. You’re braver.”
There was something there. Something unspoken. But before I could process it, a knock echoed sharply on the door.
I turned to look at her, but she was already moving. Her eyes widened, a flicker of something deeper… a warning, a shift.
“You’re not alone anymore,” she said quietly, her voice changing, just enough for me to hear the concern she hadn’t voiced until now.
The door shook with a violent knock.
Bang. Bang. Bang…!