Forbidden

My phone rings for the twentieth time in the last hour and, like the last twenty times, I hit the lock button to ignore it, sighing when a new message buzzes through half a second later.

“Obsessive boyfriend?” Sienna raises an eyebrow, twisting a strand of her dark hair around one of her acrylic nails.

“More like obsessive mother,” I mumble, glancing away from the blank end-of-term paper that’s supposed to save my semester.

The classroom’s stuffy air smells faintly of old books and dry-erase markers, and Professor Gate drones on about Aristotle, unaware I’m tuning him out as thoroughly as I am my mother. Another call, another text. I resist the urge to throw my phone all the way to the front row.

Sienna’s eyes glitter with mischief. “What’s with her?”

“As if I know.”

She grins. “Maybe she found out about Callahan? Maybe he finally decided to nail your little bitch ass.”

I snort, trying not to laugh too loud. “He wouldn’t. His career’s on the line.”

“And he definitely enjoyed all those neck-kisses.”

“Yeah, the kisses that got me a B and not a single point higher,” I mutter with a dramatic sigh.

“Hey, at least you didn’t fail.” She laughs. “And he is hot.”

That earns us a few nearby looks. Some chuckles.

Professor Gate looks our way, his eyes squished tight on the solemn mission of identifying from where the noise is coming from. Not a single minute goes by when his poor eyesight makes him surrender and he proceeds with his lecture.

I shrug. “Almost.” I remind her. “Besides, if it was the Callahan thing, my mom wouldn’t just be calling me. She’d have come through those doors like a category five hurricane by now.”

And the thought tightens my stomach just a little. Mom’s overbearing but showing up to my campus would be a new level of crazy. Still, the idea nags at me—her timing, the incessant calls, the way she hasn’t just texted but double and triple texted. It feels like she’s waiting for something.

When another hour passes by and my paper is still as blank as my motivation—finally—, Professor Gate lets us go. I say my goodbyes to Sienna, knowing she’s as desperate to flee campus as I am, and grab my bag, practically sprinting out of the building.

Back in my room, I throw my clothes and books into my suitcase. Part of me wants to be careful, folding everything neatly, but the other part is desperate to just go. I’ll feel better once I’m on the bus, once there’s distance between me and this place.

“I’ll hit the road first, C.” Sienna stands on the open door, her bags hanging from both her shoulders while she points two fingers at me, a smile on her tainted lips. “You better call me when you get home and tell me why mom was worry-loony.”

I return the smile. “You’re such a stuck-your-nose-where-no-one-asked.”

“You know me so well.” She winks. “Happy summer. Call me! Love ya’!”

I see her disappear behind the door and can’t help but crack a little laugh at her, returning my attention to my almost full bag.

By the time I finish, and all the crap I collected throughout the semester is not-so-neatly saved, the corridor is practically crawling with girls and boys, freshman to seniors, just as eagerly as I am to flee. I weave through the crowd, dodging bags and random boxes scattered around. Some people are shamelessly flirting right in front of us lonely souls, making the escape feel even more urgent. I have to zigzag to avoid stepping on their stuff and duck to dodge a football that nearly takes my head off.

“Cairo!”

Strong hands catch the ball just in time, and a second later, my savior’s face comes into focus, a grin spreading across his face.

“Hi.” Benjamin’s smile is dashing, boyish in a cute, sweet way that brings out a smile of my own.

“Hey, Big B.”

He cringes a little, mockingly, and shakes his head. “Oh, not you too.”

I laugh, shrugging. “What? Everybody calls you Big Ben.”

“You’re not everybody, Cairo,” he says, softer than I expected, his gaze holding mine for just a second too long.

His eyes are darker than I remembered, somehow serious and warm at the same time. For a brief, absurd moment, they are the only thing I can see, until I notice we’re attracting more attention than I would like. I feel this strange flutter, which I promptly squash. Benjamin’s a friend—reliable, familiar, like the brother I never had. That’s all.

I clear my throat, trying to shake off the weird feeling. “Nice save,” I say, nodding at the ball in his hand.

He chuckles, looking almost proud. “Thanks. Um… Cairo?” He stumbles over his words, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m having a party soon. You know, at my place. If you’re interested?”

“Count me in.” I say, starting to increase the distance between us. “I gotta go, though.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll, um…I’ll text you.”

I thumbs up, turning to keep moving my way out and leave the chorus of male teasing trailing behind me. I’m practically sprinting by the time I reach the glass doors of the dorms, already feeling the comfort of finally leaving this place for a little while. I’ll go home, recharge, and worry about school later.

I’m halfway to the bus stop when I spot her.

“Mom?” I blurt out, feeling a jolt of irritation and surprise.

She stands by the curb, arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. That look alone is enough to stir up old memories—times I’d failed to pick up her calls before, her face tense with the same expression.

“Hello to you too, Cairo,” she says, her voice clipped. “Are you ever going to answer your phone?”

I force down a sigh and sling my bag over my shoulder. “Couldn’t this wait until I got home?”

Her jaw tenses, but before she can reply, a man appears beside her, slipping an arm around her waist. He’s got an easy grin, relaxed like we’ve known each other forever, and before I can process it, he leans over and plants a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Car’s ready when you are,” he says to her, then glances at me with an affable nod. “You must be Cairo.”

I stare, my brain short-circuiting. Since when does Mom kiss anyone? My mother and father split up when I was a kid, and after that, it was like she built a fortress around herself. I was sure she’d never let anyone past it.

My mother’s eyes flick nervously between us, cheeks slightly flushed. “Oh. Um, Cairo, this is Travis. My fiancé.”

The word takes a minute to settle. Fiancé? Like… husband-to-be?

My mother, who taught me the words “independence” and “focus” the way other parents taught their kids nursery rhymes. The same mother who, at every school event and parent-teacher meeting, insisted that I never rely on anyone else. This mother—engaged?

“Oh,” I manage, my voice oddly flat. “Congrats. I guess?”

Mom’s shoulders tighten, and she clears her throat, shifting on her feet. “I was going to tell you once you got home, but… well…”

My brain is still lagging behind. Fiancé? I glance at him—Travis—then back at her, trying to understand the look in her eyes. There’s something soft in her expression that I’ve never seen before. The realization feels almost… wrong. Like she’s someone I don’t even know.

“Nice to meet you, Cairo,” Travis says, still smiling, like this isn’t the most awkward moment in the history of forever.

I manage a polite nod, though my mind is racing. “Yeah… nice to meet you too.”

“Let me get that for you.”

He’s taking my things before I can argue and steps away to start loading my bags into his fancy car while Mom stands there, watching me carefully. I can tell she’s expecting something, maybe for me to be happy, or even excited for her. But all I feel is this uncomfortable churning in my stomach.

This was supposed to be my chance to unwind after a rough semester—to come home to my old room and reset. And now it feels like someone just took everything I knew and turned it upside down.

I watch as Travis moves to the trunk, casually loading my suitcase like this is the most natural thing in the world. It’s bizarre, seeing him handle my things—someone who, until about two minutes ago, didn’t even exist in my world.

I turn to my mother, crossing my arms. “So… how long has this been going on?”

She glances over her shoulder, clearly hoping Travis is out of earshot. “Cairo, maybe we can talk about this in the car—”

“No, now’s fine,” I say, a little sharper than I intended. “I mean, it’s not like you’ve been calling me nonstop or anything.”

She gives a quick sigh, rubbing her temples, and then nods to a nearby bench. “Let’s sit down.”

Reluctantly, I follow her to the bench, feeling the weight of this strange new reality pressing down on me with each step. She sits, smoothing her hands over her skirt, and takes a deep breath.

“I met him just after you went back to college,” she says, keeping her eyes on her hands as she speaks. “It was… unexpected, really. I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure it would even go anywhere.”

I narrow my eyes, crossing my arms tighter over my chest. “So, what changed?”

She looks up at me, a softness in her expression that I’m not used to seeing. “I fell in love, Cairo. And when he asked me to marry him, I… I couldn’t say no.”

I blink, feeling a rush of something between shock and anger rise up in my chest. “So that’s it? You just—fell in love and decided not to tell me until you’re engaged?”

She sighs, reaching out as if to take my hand, but I pull back instinctively. “I didn’t plan to keep it from you. But the longer I waited, the harder it got to figure out how to tell you.”

I press my lips together, staring at the ground. “I just… I don’t get it, Mom. It’s like I don’t even know you.”

Her face falls, and I almost feel bad, but I can’t shake the feeling of betrayal sitting heavy in my stomach. I went through this whole semester thinking I knew what I was coming home to—thinking I understood my own family. But this? I never saw it coming.

Trying to ease the tension, I offer a forced smile. “Well, I guess it could be worse, right?”

She hesitates, glancing down before meeting my gaze with an uncomfortable expression. “Actually… there’s something else.”

My heart sinks, a sense of dread crawling up my spine. “What do you mean… something else?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but stops herself, shaking her head as if searching for the right words. For the first time, she looks truly nervous, and I can feel my pulse quicken as the silence stretches between us.