You Are My Heartbreaker

Chapter 41

Despite how it's been about half way into the second week since I've been discharged, I'm happy to say I'm off the wheelchair. Although I hadn't really needed it in the first place, and isn't it just perfect how all I need to do now is limp?

My mother decided to take the day off to take me to see my physiotherapist at the clinic today. Big shocker eh? I thought so too. She wanted to know if I will be able to attend our town's cotillion. It wasn't that big of a deal for me, given that I've done mine already. But it's just a social event that my parents attend every year to watch other girls make their debut.

I bet they couldn't even reminiscence Rachel or my debut.

"Selena?" the physiotherapist came out shortly after our arrival. My mother watched intently as he operated on my ankle. It honestly wasn't terrible, probably just warns me to not wear heels for the next few weeks or months. And I'll say, I am perfectly fine with that.

"I think she's just lost a few range of motion here," he pointed, "But I think I'll do some taping today and it will certainly help if you continue doing some of the exercises."

"Great," my mother said and promptly got up. The physiotherapist provided with some treatment for me while my mother waited outside. He escorted me out to meet her after 20 minutes.

We parked our car right outside so it would be more convenient when I come out. She helped me into the car before returning a call on her bluetooth as she drove us through the town. I was surprised when she stopped in front of Steps, an old fashioned coffee shop that was build after an old firehouse.

She apparently had to meet a client in there so we were going to get an afternoon tea while we're at it. We took a seat all the way to the back of the narrow coffee shop. I limped my way around the people who stuck their foot out from the booths on the left side.

My mother helped me to the table meeting her client Mrs. Downey. She looked like a retiree about 70 or 80. She just came in to sign a contract to finalize her divorce with her husband. Like jeez, you're almost to the end of life and you're divorcing now? Why not spend the last 20 years together?

She signed it quick and left in a swift.

My cappuccino arrived just when she got up. She didn't even want a glass of water.

"That lady is getting a divorce?" I asked watching Mrs. Downey step out of the coffee shop.

"Yup," my mother stirred her coffee adding 1 teaspoon to it. 

"That's just--I mean why wouldn't she just spend the last 20 years with her husband?" I asked. 

"What's wrong with that?" my mother looked up at me with a sternly stare, "Might as well spend the last 20 years of life with joy and the way you wanted to."

"Obviously she has every right to do that but you've spent almost your entire life with this person and probably had kids with them--" I argued at this ridiculous topic.

"You don't know that, Mrs. Downey could have been having a rough few years of marriage to this man," my mother arguably speaks. Ugh I hate this. It was just like how I argued with her about a Barbie doll at K-mart when I was a kid; she would use her logical lawyer brain to argue about it with me.

"Are you  happy? About where you are right now with your marriage?" I asked her, it completely caught her off guard.

"W-Well of course I am," she stutters, answering after a few seconds, "I have two grown up children and a loyal loving husband. And it is guaranteed that once you graduate you can get an internship at one of the most well known firms in Chicago."