My Mom Wants Me To Break Up

When my mother said that, she sounded so proud of herself.

She did not notice that my face had turned pale.

“Look at you. I scared you, didn’t I?

“The truth is that I made it all up. None of that rebirth and serial-killer nonsense is real.”

I stood frozen in place as I remembered the shocked and disappointed look in my boyfriend Miles Xavier’s eyes when the police took him away

“You mean... all of it was a lie?” I asked in disbelief.

“What else would it be?” she replied, raising an eyebrow. She looked as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I thought that he would break up with you on his own when I started those dirty rumors about you.

“But he actually stuck around after all that. That just proves he has ulterior motives.”

I could not wrap my head around what she just said.

A while back, these nasty rumors about my boss and me had spread like wildfire through the office.

They were so detailed that people actually believed them.

My colleagues gave me the cold shoulder, and my supervisor even called me in for a chat.

Those were the worst days of my life.

However, Miles stuck with me through it all. He comforted me, believed in me, and helped me shut down the gossip

I always assumed some jealous colleague was behind the whole thing. I never imagined that the person who started it all was my own mother.

“Good thing that actually worked this time.”

The more my mother spoke, the more pleased she became. She even clapped her hands.

“You were the one who called the cops on him. Even if he gets out, there’s no way he’s ever coming back to you. That means you can now focus on being a heroine.”

I looked at this familiar yet unfamiliar woman in front of me. An overwhelming sense of absurdity washed over me.

I was not unaware that my mother had recently become obsessed with those returning-to-the-past and strong-heroine novels. She spent all day glued to her phone reading them.

She always said a real heroine did not need attachments or a romantic partner. Instead, she should cut off everyone who held her back and focus only on her career.

She also drilled this into me every day, determined to mold me into the “heroine” she kept talking about.

My mother had been upset ever since I got together with Miles half a year ago.

I knew Miles was not the kind of guy she made him out to be. He was mature, steady, hardworking, and exceptionally considerate toward me.

I had always believed Miles was the one I would spend my life with. That was why I always turned a deaf ear to my mother’s nagging, convinced that time would prove me right.

However, I never thought she would go this far.

“Mom, that is way out of line!”

I could no longer hold back and retorted, “Novels are not real! How could you take make-believe storylines and force them into real life, and then turn around and hurt Miles and me like this?”

Her smug expression faded as she said stubbornly, “How was I out of line? I did it for your own good! How many girls do you see who end up broke, humiliated, and ruined just because they got involved with the wrong guy?

“The only ones who make it out okay are heroines who drop the loser, go all in on their career, and never look back.

“Selena, you have to believe me.”

She took my hand and softened her tone as she said, “You have already cut that loser out of your life completely. From now on, you pour everything into your work.

“Don’t let love chain you down again. I promise you that you are going to become the strongest heroine out there—”

I pulled my hand back and cut her off. “That’s enough!

“Mom, I have my own life. I’m not going to be your so-called ‘heroine’ just because you say so. There’s more to life than just hustling for a career. You don’t have to give up love to make it.

“Besides, Miles is not a jerk. He actually treats me right.”

She looked at my agitated state and let out a soft sigh and said in a resigned tone, “Ah, my little girl is all grown up now. Why would you ever listen to your own mother?”

Her nonchalant and matter-of-fact demeanor made me even madder.

I pointed at my father, who had just walked through the door with food in his hand.

“You keep preaching about being a ‘heroine.’ Why don’t you practice what you preach?

“If you truly believe a heroine shouldn’t have a man or a marriage, then why haven’t you divorced Dad?”