Right. She’d FaceTimed them from the Greek Theater, back before she managed to uncannily sabotage her own happiness yet again.

“Sure, yeah. Umm, no, I’m taking a day to myself right now.”

“Going for a long walk?”

Alex could feel her mother putting up those blockades, trying to kettle her into vulnerability, and a white-hot flash of resentment rose up from deep within her.

“Yes, Mom,” she hissed, “I’m going for a long walk. I’m eating a third of my bodyweight in protein, I’m sleeping eight hours, and I’m doing strength training exercises whenever I pass a heavy object. Are you happy?”

“Don’t talk to me that way.” Elena tapped into the inherent wellspring of maternal authority, something she rarely did.

“Sorry, you’re right,” Alex conceded. “I’m just a little tired.”

There was a pause, and Alex heard the familiar popping sound of her mother opening the top of her smoothie bottle. She took a sip before continuing.

“You know, I saw the video this morning,” she said, tentatively. “That’s Danial’s company, isn’t it?”

It was unlike her to be so direct, but then, this was an unusual situation.

“What do you want?” Alex whined, feeling the now-familiar tears push up behind her eyes. It was exhaustion as much as it was regret, sadness as much as anger.

“Did he know you were doing that?”

“I don’t want to talk about this, please.”

“We don’t have to talk about it, but—”

“Mom, I just want to be left alone for a bit, okay?” The tears were slipping free now, full of the emotion she’d been repressing all morning.

Elena paused before responding, undoubtedly modulating to something much softer than she would normally say.

“Lex, you know I only care about you.”

It was true, but Alex often feared that the version of herself that her mother cared for was a version that had never actually existed. That the objective of her care was to coerce her into becoming this other, better self. Her definition of success had never quite aligned with Elena’s, turning each of her accomplishments into her mother’s consolation prize. Alex thought, rather bitterly, that she would take infinitely less care from her mother if it meant more genuine support.

“I know you do.” She inhaled sharply, willing herself to calm.

She knew that the Greek men behind her were tuned into the scene—she heard the words woman and call, among others—but she couldn’t find it within herself to care. Keeping control over her voice, she continued, slowly: “But I also know that all you really care about is whether I blew up another potential relationship.”

“That’s not fair.”

“You wish I hadn’t messed things up with Danial.” That familiar, delirious laugh of total regret overtook her, “God, you wish I hadn’t messed things up with Paul, even though he’s literally gay!”