Returned Home

You returned home, a sense of dread weighing heavily on your chest. The memory of your mom’s disapproving look from earlier at the fashion show echoed in your mind. You walked through the front door cautiously, as if trying to delay the inevitable confrontation. Your mom was sitting in the living room, her face serious, her posture rigid. She was waiting for you.

Swallowing hard, you greeted her. "I'm home, Mum."

She barely glanced up from where she was seated, but her voice was cold and firm. "Alex, we need to talk."

You froze, the pit in your stomach growing deeper. You had known this conversation was coming, but now that it was here, the anxiety was almost unbearable. Slowly, you moved to sit across from her, but she gestured for you to remain standing.

"Today," she began, her voice steady but icy. "Were you the one wearing that sports attire?"

Your heart raced, and you could feel your throat tighten. She knows! Your mind screamed. You tried to keep your voice even, though you could feel the nerves creeping in. "Yes, Mum, it was me."