More than just us (Michael Afton x Reader)

11 - The shame

(Originally this was going to be 6000 but due to tweaks and general unhappiness with some parts, the part has change a lot. Shift in tones and ending of the chapter a lot was most cut out due to generally no longer fitting with the new changes. Being done when chapter 10 came out, went in to fix some stuff and end up redoing most of it. How fun.)

(Y/n)'s pov

Within a parking lot of grocery store, I sat in silence in the car with my mother, wishing to be somewhere else right now. There was nothing more boring than shopping trip, when I never wanted to go in the first place, but yet here I was. My mother gathered her things, Shoving rolled up bags into her handbag along with a few other things.

"Do did you get the shopping list off the kitchen bench?" She broke the thick silence, that had consumed our ride here, with her calm and unfazed voice. She always said, shopping was therapy to her, wondering aimlessly, and I knew how much Fritz hated going shopping with her, always coming home crying and whining how she was being a meanie, but that was her. a big meanie, who doesn't do anything fun.

"Yes... why did I have to come along?" I asked, leaning into my uncomfortably seat, watching outside. Wet, cold and miserable. It wasn't any better out side, but it was at least away from my mother.

"You might as well make yourself useful and help me with the shopping. See it as experience of once you live on your own, you'll have to do." She hummed, making she got everything, purse, money, card, and what else she held in that bag of hers.

"Well, I had plans today."

"Surprise, I don't care. You're helping around the house, regardless if you want to or not." She unbuckled herself. "Once you find work, we'll talk about your part on maintaining the house."

"I see." I huffed, unbuckling myself, before exiting the car, feeling the rain and window work together to be a pain. Bitterly cold and from what I heard, the wind will only get worse later on.

I sorted the trolley for my mother, to things were easier to put onto til, when we got to that. 2 bottles of milk, eggs, canned food, few things that were was cheap and quick to make. It wasn't a big shopping day, but is for the basics, that had ran out. sauces, bacon. Something for tonight's dinner. Pasta and other things.

Mother dragged me all through the store, though areas that wasn't needed but she treated herself with a few candles, keeping me close by and my hand on the trolley so I wasn't to disappear. Basically, She was treating me like a child, doing the same thing she did when I was kid to ensure I didn't wonder off, but maybe now I wish I could just wonder off and go somewhere else. There was was nothing more embarrassing than keep on being reminded to stay close and don't wonder off, as an adult. It felt if my chest tightened and the space around me tightened, my breath quickened, as she told me to stay put and kept warning me.

"Can you not?" I snapped slapping her away, when she pulled me close to her. "Can we just get this over with, alright." I covered part of my face with my hand, too ashamed to even notice anything around me, just that it felt that the world was crushing me under some pressure. Difficult to breath. This felt worse than shopping that my grandparents, who were stricked one what they got. it was fast but brought along people stop to chat with them. I can't tell what was worser.

"Well, we have one place to go, before paying and then we could go." My mam stated matter of factly, looking at her list.

"what next?" I asked, taking a deep breath, holding the trolley tightly, hoping it would be quick. She moved along without saying much about what was next, but I didn't care. Just wanting the shopping to be over.

We passed Roselyn and Michael's mother, in the female product area, putting few things trolley, which already had the mix of a lot of food, some easy to make things, fruits and vegetables, pastas, rice, and a whole range of different things. I heard her say something about Michael, and my heart spike. Why was she talking about him for? to his mother. They might be up to something. My nerves rattled.