Chapter 1

On my first visit to my boyfriend Ryan Chapman's house, his mom went all out and whipped up a feast of twelve dishes. There was a nice mix of meat and veggies, with flavors ranging from mild to bold, sweet to tangy.

After the meal, out of politeness, I offered to help clean up. But Ryan told me to take a seat and said his mom could handle it.

Meanwhile, his dad was on the couch, puffing away on a cigarette. After a couple of hacking coughs, he spat a wad of phlegm on the floor. Then he hollered at his wife, who was busy doing the dishes in the kitchen, to bring him a glass of water.

Ryan's mom quickly dried her hands on her apron and rushed out to pour him the water.

Throughout this whole scene, Ryan didn't lift a finger to help his mom, nor did he say a single word in her defense.

I couldn't help but smile. If they weren't going to appreciate such a wonderful mom, well, I'd be more than happy to.

*****‍

The very next day after visiting Ryan's place, I broke up with him.

Ryan stared at me, totally shocked. "Why? You agreed to meet my parents. Was it something my parents did?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Take a guess."

He looked down, thinking hard for a while. "My mom made you all that food, my dad tried to be nice to you, and I went along with everything you wanted. What did I do wrong?"

Then, as if something clicked, he added, "Was it because my mom peeled a pear for you? She had no idea you don't like pears."

I couldn't help but laugh, but I didn't deny it. "Yeah, your mom did make me unhappy."

He suddenly realized. "Don't worry. She used to live out in the countryside, taking care of my grandma. She only moved to the city after my grandma passed away. If you're not comfortable with her, I can ask my dad to send her back to the countryside..."

"Ryan." I cut him off, looked him straight in the eye, and asked, "Is she your real mom?"

"Of course she is," he replied without a second thought.

I couldn't help but shake my head.

Honestly, I was just speechless. Like, really speechless.

My ride had arrived, so I opened the door and got in.

If even his own mom couldn't teach him right from wrong, I wasn't about to do it for her.

"Olivia, Olivia..." Ryan called after me from behind.

But I just told the driver to drive faster.

It turned out this trip to Ryan's place wasn't a total loss—I got a good look at Ryan's true colors.

Ryan and I had been dating for two years, and he was desperate to get married. This time, he pulled out all the stops—sweet-talking, guilt-tripping, whatever it took—to get me to his place.

From the moment I stepped through the door, her mother, Helen Chapman, was busy nonstop—handing me slippers, taking my bag, washing fruit, and so on.

His dad, Vincent Chapman, just ran his mouth, grilling me about my family, my job, my salary. When he heard I made more than Ryan, he looked at me like I was some kind of jackpot.

After all that, Vincent finally asked what I wanted to drink. I said I'd love an ice-cold Coke.

Vincent immediately started yelling at Helen, "Didn't you hear Olivia wants an ice-cold Coke? Go buy some from the supermarket downstairs right now! Can't you do anything right? Don't you know young people like Coke? Why didn't you get some ahead of time?"

Helen put on an apologetic smile, kept saying sorry to me, and hurried out after slipping on her shoes.

Ryan continued, "Olivia, don't let her bother you. My mom's nothing like yours—she never got a proper education, can't even write her own name, and just doesn't know how to communicate with people."

When the Coke wasn't cold enough, Ryan just sent Helen right back out to buy some chilled ones.

They kept bossing her around like that, and neither Ryan nor Vincent lifted a finger to help or even gave her a kind look.