𝐈𝐈

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LUNCH with my mother is a trying experience.

She's so much to handle at one time. She's overbearing and meddling. She's loud and the complete opposite of me, but I know she cares about me.

I didn't grow up with her, but we've gotten closer as the years went on.

I went to boarding school in Switzerland, meaning that I never actually lived with either of my parents for a long amount of time. They had divorced when I was little, so any time spent in the States was divided amongst them.

Carl lived in Washington, but never made me feel like I was obligated to visit him, which I rarely did. I loved him, but we never had anything to talk about. Now that he's dead, I kind of wish we spent more time together, but I can't change the past so I don't dwell on it. He left me most of his entire fortune from the software company he created years ago, which was a lot.

I've invested most of the money, but there was still a lot left for me to keep.

Renee is more of a free spirit. She's a painter now, and a rather famous one at that. She lives in New York mostly with her art dealer/husband, Andrew. I like him, but don't care enough to invest myself in their relationship.

I was always so mature for my age, even as a child. Growing up away from my parents only made me more independent, and I loved that about myself. I enjoyed going to school abroad and think it was a great experience for me, but I sometimes wish I could talk to my mother like other daughters did.

Renee and I are... detached, for lack of a better word. We don't fight, but I never really let her into my life enough for us to have any meaningful conversations.

Then again, I could barely spend an hour at lunch with her, so meaningful conversations might be a little too much for our relationship.

I drive home from the restaurant, looking at the surrounding Boston skyline.

I chose this city because it was somewhere I had always wanted to live. Not as big as New York, but still a lot of hustle and bustle. It's eclectic and young and vibrant. I needed that when I moved back here.

I thought about staying in Europe or the West coast, but I wanted to be closer to my family. It just felt like I was missing too much when I was away.

I also thought about going to college, but schooling in Europe was different than it is here. After high school, no one really goes off to a university to study right away. They take time off and think about their lives. They wait to see what they really want to do.

I was so confused as to why Carl kept pushing me to come back here for college, until I realized he was raised that way. High school, then college, then grad school, then work...for the rest of your life. One right after the other.

I didn't really want college right now. It wasn't in my immediate future either. I was smart. Really smart, or so my test scores said. Schooling would always be an option, but just not now.

With Carl's inheritance, I purchased a townhouse in the Beacon Hill area. The rich area. It was four floors and had high ceilings with crown molding that the realtor explained had been around since the Revolutionary War.

My neighbors were elderly women who had lived in their houses for years, their husbands dying off decades ago. When I introduced myself, they both told me that the neighborhood was filled with older people who could afford the payments.

They were trying to figure out how a girl of twenty-two, who probably looked younger, could afford a place nicer than theirs.

I didn't tell them that I paid for my house in full and was thinking about buying their properties as well once they died off. I just dropped my baked goods in their hands and told them to call if they needed anything.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑! | harry styles Where stories live. Discover now