44 Hours by Donna Jay

44 Hours by Donna Jay

Author:Donna Jay [Jay, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amazon
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 23

The minute Jennifer got home, she sought out her mother. Better to rip off the Band-aid than let the news fester.

She found her at the kitchen table, folding the laundry into neat piles. “Hi. Can I help?”

Her mum nodded at three of Jennifer’s work shirts draped over the back of a chair. “You can start by ironing those.”

“Gladly. I’ll even do my own laundry from now on.”

“Well, that would be silly when I’m home before you.”

“Thing is, Mum.” Jennifer moved the laundry basket aside and waited until she had her mum’s attention. She could do this, face her head-on. She was a big girl now, her mother had to see that. “I’ve found a flat. A place of my own.”

Her mother wobbled on her heels.

For a split-second, Jennifer worried she was going to hit the floor. She pulled out a chair and sat. Jennifer did the same, giving her time to digest the news.

Her firstborn was finally standing on her own two feet. Whether her mother would be there to catch her if she fell remained to be seen.

“So it really is over with you and Adrian?”

Jennifer nodded.

“I always thought you two would marry.”

“I know,” Jennifer said softly, feeling like she’d let her mother down, and she had.

“Did you ever love him?”

“I still love him. But like a brother, not a lover.”

“I don’t get it.” Her mother shook her head, fiddling with the fringe on the tablecloth. “He’s polite, he’s sweet, and he treats you like a princess. What more do you want?”

A vagina? She almost laughed out loud when the thought popped into her head. But that wasn’t entirely true. She wanted a woman, and not just any woman. She wanted one who made her heart sing. She wanted a woman she couldn’t get out of her head. She wanted Ellaine.

“Does he…do you and him…” Her mother cleared her throat. “Is it the coitus?”

Mortified, Jennifer covered her face. “Jesus, Mum.”

Her mother’s tone turned thunderous. “Don’t you dare blasphemy in this house.”

“Sorry.” The word was robotic, automatic. “I’m twenty-eight years old. I want to feel that undying love. I want to feel my heart go pitter-patter when my lover arrives home.”

Her mother looked at Jennifer as if she was a child. “Marriage is not all plain sailing, Jennifer Andrews. The sooner you take off the rose-coloured glasses, the sooner you’ll find peace. Have you thought about joining the church?”

Oh, she fucking didn’t! Of course she did. That was her mother to a tee.

“If you open your heart you’ll discover through sacrifice, you’ll find true joy.”

Frustrated, Jennifer exhaled a heavy sigh. “I haven’t been happy for years. Don’t you think I’ve sacrificed enough?”

“How can you—”

“Look, I don’t want to fight.” Jennifer stood. “I just wanted to let you know I’m moving out on Saturday, with or without your blessings.”

“I don’t understand you.” Her mother sat back in her chair, arms folded across her chest, lips pursed. “You’ve been difficult since you arrived home from the forest.”

She made it sound like Jennifer had been on a sight-seeing holiday rather than lost and frightened.



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