Buried under Junk and Family Obligations

Selena's POV

My expression must have been terrible.

My aunt, Ashlyn Atkinson, awkwardly slipped off the coat. "Don't be upset, Selena. Your mom told me you bought this for me. I really thought…"

Upon hearing that, my mother, Lola Atkinson, rushed over and draped the coat back over Aunt Ashlyn's shoulders.

"Selena!" Mom frowned heavily.

"Where are your manners? Your Aunt Ashlyn has always been so nice to you. She gave you all those pretty clothes you got to wear growing up!"

Those "pretty clothes" were just Aunt Ashlyn's castoffs. Just like the ones in my wardrobe today, they were stained, torn, pilled, or simply out of fashion.

Throwing them out felt like a waste, so she'd box them up and send them to our house.

Only Mom would treat a pile of unwanted junk like treasure, thanking Aunt Ashlyn over and over again.

Whenever she held those clothes up to measure them against me, she never once asked if I actually liked them or wanted to wear them.

"Mom," I said, my voice raspy. "Those were all secondhand."

"So what if they're secondhand? They're branded! Other people couldn't buy them even if they wanted to."

After scolding me, Mom turned to Aunt Ashlyn with a smile. "Kids don't know quality when they see it. Don't mind her."

"Then this coat…"

"It's just a coat. I can make decisions for her, can't I?" Mom glared at me warningly, and I swallowed the "no" on the tip of my tongue.

"Fine," I replied with a bitter laugh.

As I stepped back into my room and shut the door, tears slipped down my face.

That coat was a birthday gift I'd bought for myself.

I'd kept an eye on it online for a long time, waiting until there was a huge discount before finally placing the order. I thought I could wear it when the weather turned cold around my birthday.

I had carefully tucked it away in a gift box at the very back of my wardrobe.

I opened the wardrobe. The box was still there, but the coat inside had been replaced by a beaten-up secondhand jacket the relatives didn't want anymore. It even had cigarette burns on the sleeves.

Outside, Mom was still apologizing to Aunt Ashlyn's family for how loudly I'd shut the door.

She pulled out the homemade cookies I had made for her and handed them all out to them with a flattering smile. "Here, try these."

My cousin, Ben Mitchell, took one bite and tossed the cookie onto the floor. "Why is this peanut butter? I hate peanut butter."

Mom's expression changed instantly. She pushed my door open and snapped at me, "Selena, why did you make peanut butter cookies?"

I looked at the discarded cookie on the floor and said softly, "Because you like peanut butter."

She didn't hear me. She threw the rest of the peanut butter cookies into the trash and told me to go buy chocolate chip instead.

I said okay.

As I walked out the door, my phone rang with a call from my company.

They were asking if I was open to taking an overseas assignment.