11. Absolutely

In the car, I text Mom to let her know I'm on my way. Although my heart is heavy, I couldn't be more grateful that, back then, Daddy declined the Alpha's offer to live in Alpha's Mansion–a magnificent building built for the pack's Alpha and Beta to live in with their families. Today of all days, I have no desire to come in contact with our nasty Luna and her detestable son.

Our house might not be as grand as Alpha's Mansion, but it is a home built with love. The split-level French-style house, with its European elegance, boasts a sloped roof, a stone-and-stucco façade, an elegant front-yard landscape, and a backyard that exudes village warmth while maintaining its city sophistication. A huge free-form swimming pool completes it. I wouldn't trade it for a hundred Alpha's mansions.

As the car turns into our driveway, I'm not surprised to see there's no one waiting to welcome me home, not even one of the house staff. I wonder why the gate is wide open and the place looks this quiet though. There were usually one or two staff members around–a guard or two, the gardener, and the maids tending to the household.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry when the scene of the last time I came home on holiday comes to mind. I was already laughing in the car when I saw the lineup of staff, a long red carpet spread across the ground, and Daddy dressed in a kilt like a Scottish Highlander, bagpipes in hand, waiting to welcome me home.

He barely allowed the car to stop before opening the door for me.

"Gooood evening, ma'am!" he greeted with a flourish as I stepped onto the red carpet. "Welcome home. As the special guest of honor, you're just in time for a very special bagpipe performance by–yours truly." He gave a little bow.

"Okay..."

I decided to play along, chuckling as I followed him inside the house.

"Have your seat, please." He pointed to a sofa and then snapped his fingers.

"Oh, Daddy!"

I burst out laughing again when Gino, our cook, and one of the kitchen maids, both dressed in chef's uniforms with exaggerated caps, walked out from the dining area carrying a champagne bucket and a tray with two champagne flutes.

"Welcome back home, Miss," they said, bowing in unison before popping the champagne and pouring me a glass.

I took a sip and laughed happily when the bursting carbonation tickled my nose and tongue. Mom isn't the type to involve herself in such frivolities, so I wasn't surprised when I looked around and didn't see her anywhere.

"Now, time for the big show." He announced when I lowered my glass.

Then he started playing the bagpipes. Even though he was bloody awful at it, I found the whole performance pleasing and hilarious.

"Do you have any idea how absolutely horrible you are at playing bagpipes?" I asked.

"You're absolutely enjoying yourself, aren't you?" he replied.

I couldn't help but laugh before admitting, "I am. Absolutely."

"Absolutely. That's what matters to me. I don't care how ridiculous I look or how horrendous I sound. I'm just glad I made my baby happy."

That's the kind of man my daddy was. He never minded doing the most ridiculous things just to see me laugh and smile.

"Miss!... Miss!..."

The chauffeur's voice startles me back to the present.

"Yes?" I reply, quickly dabbing at the corners of my eyes, which are beginning to turn misty.

I realize he already has the door open.

"We've arrived," he says.

"Of course."

I hurriedly get out of the car.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't even realize he had parked the car and brought my luggage to the entrance.

He gives a curt nod before getting back into his car and driving away.

"Victoria!"

I hear Mom's voice just as I'm about to enter the door code into the electronic lock.

I turn and see her coming out of the garage.

"You're home! I thought I smelled your essence."

I nod, forcing a smile.

"Yes, Mom. I'm back."

She looks thinner. She no longer looks like the fierce woman I know. It's only been two days, and she already looks so worn-out and devastated.

She lost her mate, Victoria!

How did you expect her to look?

Happy?

"I'm sorry! I'm supposed to arrange your flight, but I–I couldn't. I was not–I mean, I know your dad would have made sure you..."

"Oh, Mom..."

I hurry to close the gap between us. Who's to say what my daddy would have done in this situation?

"I'm so sorry."

The words come out choked as I pull her into a hug.

I promised myself I wouldn't cry. I know for certain Daddy would want me to be strong for Mom. But seeing her eyes well up with tears makes the strong façade I've been holding together shatter into pieces.

"What am I going to do, Victoria? What am I going to do?" she cries against my shoulder as I cry against hers.

Soon, her cries turn into heavy, shuddering breaths.

"I'm so scared! I feel lost! It's so hard! What am I going to do without him? He... How do I move on from this? It's so, so hard! I–I can't... I can't do this!"

She breaks down harder.

"I–I don't want to continue living! I want to die! Oh, Moon Goddess... I wish I would die!"

Die!

"No!"

I wrench myself out of the hug and grip her shoulders, forcing her to look into my eyes.

"No, no, no, Mom! Don't say that!" I wail. "Please don't say that! Don't talk about dying! I lost Daddy. I can't lose you too! I–I can't imagine what you're going through right now, but please don't talk about dying!"

Tears stream down my face.

"You have me! I'm here for you! I promise I'll be a good daughter from now on! What will happen to me if you die too? Please, don't talk about dying anymore. Please..."

"Oh, my baby!"

She wails and pulls me back into her arms. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you. I'm so sorry."

I love my mom, even though I'm not as close to her as I was to Daddy. And although I know she prefers my dad's company to mine, I have never doubted that she loves me dearly.

My mom and dad were as different as day and night. Mom was spontaneous and had a fiery temper, while Daddy was calm. He always looked at things from a reasonable, rational, logical point of view.

Despite their differences, they loved each other so much. They were each other's best friends. They both raised me to be strong and independent in their own ways. Our home was never devoid of love despite the constant arguments I had with Mom. I felt loved and valued every minute of my life.

I was simply more comfortable around Daddy and shared a closer bond with him because he was open, warm, and considerate. Mom is who she is, and I can't change that. I might sometimes get angry with her, and we might argue now and then, but I don't blame her for falling short compared to Daddy.

I don't know how Daddy was raised because he never talked about his extended family, but I guess he had a happy childhood considering the kind of person he was. Mom, on the other hand, was raised by a single father who knew little to nothing about raising girls. She came from a long line of warriors and was raised like a boy, under strict military discipline.

In her family, there was no physical affection or emotional validation. She once told me she promised herself that her children would be raised differently and kept away from her family's profession and traditions.

She was happy when she was mated to my father, a man who didn't have a violent bone in his body. The Moon Goddess must have listened to her prayers and supported her decisions, she thought.

Since I was young, Mom has been open about wanting me to be a refined yet traditional woman–someone who combines sophisticated taste and polished manners with domesticity.

She made sure I didn't miss any extracurricular activities befitting a classy lady. Etiquette. Ballet. Piano lessons. A poise-and-manners camp where hobbies for classy women were taught. From calligraphy to floral design, sophisticated instruments like the violin, wine tasting, hosting elegant dinner parties, and cocktail evenings... The list is endless.

Mom can't help being authoritarian sometimes. She's far from perfect, but she made sure to instill in me the cultured elegance that she herself lacked as a woman.

And now, the peacemaker between us is gone. We only have each other. That realization sinks in as we stand bawling on each other's shoulders. Hearing her talk about dying after just losing Daddy scares the shit out of me.

"Don't leave me, Mom, please! I promise I'll do my best to be a good daughter from now on. Don't talk about dying anymore."

"I won't! I won't!"

She hurriedly pulls away and begins wiping my tears. "What was I thinking–talking nonsense? I'm sorry. I didn't know what I was saying. It just slipped out." She sniffles and wipes her own tears away.

"Now, stop crying!" She says and also wipe my tears. Then she takes a shaky breath and forces an unusually bright smile.

"Okay! No more crying. We will pull through this together, okay?"

I nod and try to smile too.

"Yes, we will. It won't be easy, but we'll be fine."

"Yes! Yes, we will!" She takes my hand.

"Come. Let's go inside." We walk back toward the entrance.

"Where is everyone–the guards, maids?" I grab my holdall and one of the suitcases.

"I dismissed them," she simply replies.

"Oh!"

I don't need to ask why. Our guards and household staff are provided by the pack's Household and Staff Operations–the office that reports directly to the Alpha and Beta, which Mom believes the Luna also has influence over.

She's never fully trusted any of them. If I were her, I wouldn't want them around either, especially now that the Alpha and Beta are no longer with us.

"Don't worry. I've already scheduled some interviews for next week. We'll get by until then," she says, even though she can't cook and doesn't do household chores.

I nod in agreement.

"Yes, we will."

Although she looks determined, I know it won't be easy. But no matter what, we'll pull through this period together. I've had maids attend to me and wait on me literally all my life, but I can do without them. Thanks to Mom, who made sure I learned basic practical skills. Right now, that's one of the many things I'm grateful to her for.