I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning deathly white. I absolutely loathed driving and I never really understood the reverse thingy. It's a goddamn machine, why can't it move on it's own and save me the trouble of all the anxiety?

I released one of my hands and flexed my fingers. They were already starting to ache and I still had half an hour's worth of driving ahead. The fact that I wasn't stoked to meet my parents was not helping either. I knew dad would be proud but my mom would have a look of intense disappointment.

And I really could not bear to see that.

I had always strived for perfection, what with my Virgo inclinations, and my mom's constant criticism did not help. Three years ago, when she saw me with Noah, she smiled so brightly as if I had won the Nobel Relationship Prize.

Which isn't a thing, but oh well.

I swerved onto the expressway and kept my eyes peeled on the road. All of a sudden, my phone started ringing and I almost collided with a Toyota sedan in front of me. Placing a hand on my heart, I sneaked a quick look at the screen.

Patricia Wong.

I sighed and decided not to pick up because if I did, I would total the car and I did not want to risk it. After my uncalled rudeness two days ago, Patricia had come into my room with a furious expression. She had towered over my 5'4" frame and yelled till I got out of bed.

To my dismay, Patricia gave me an ultimatum. It was either facing my parents and telling them about the job or losing the flat. I knew she was not serious; there was no way we could afford the apartment without the other but Pat was a woman on a mission.

The moment she whipped out the 'you'll cook your own meals' card, I grabbed my car keys. And here I was, anxiously driving all the way to Long Beach from Santa Monica.

It was a tough ride. There are no words to describe it.

After those few gruelling hours, I finally skidded to a halt in front of my parents' quaint little house. It's a minimalist's dream, with a small, well trimmed lawn, a shiny blue door and a green roof on the aesthetic brick walls.

As I stepped out of the car, my eyes landed on two well dug holes in the corner of the garden. I smiled despite the churning feeling in my stomach. That spot was where I used to sit and paint the sea during countless evenings. My mom used to yell and make a fuss about things and my dad spent half his life trying to placate her.

That spot, outside the noises of my home, was my safe space. It was the only thing I missed about Long Beach, other than my dad. I clicked my tongue sadly and walked up the three stairs to the door. I rang the bell and stood back, my hands pushed into the pocket of my jeans.

The door opened and my dad stood on the opposite side, uncomprehending and clueless. His hair was astray, he's grown a stubble and his clothes looked terrible. His deep blue eyes were disoriented and his expression was of dismay. My heart contracted in my chest. It had been a whole year since I had last visited them.

Somehow, this felt like my fault.

Almost immediately, my dad's eyes sparked with recognition and he threw the door open wider. He rushed out and gathered me in his arms. Some of the tension in my muscles automatically seeped out and I found myself smiling. My dad was still a good few inches taller than me and I could hear his heart beat with relief right against my ear.

I pulled back but I kept my hand on his shoulder. "Papa? What happened to you?"

He simply shook his head and pushed me inside the house which got me worried. Samuel Williams was a man of few words but he was always immaculate, not a hair out of place. Today, he was all disarray and imperfect and I had absolutely no idea what had caused it. Of course, if I had to guess, I knew it had something to do with mom.

Speaking of the devil, my mom sauntered in and took my sight in, her nose curved up in distaste. I pressed my lips together, knowing that she was silently laughing at my Target jeans and comfortable red sweatshirt. She opened her perfect red lined mouth to say something but I held up a hand.

"What is going on with him? What did you do?"

As soon as I said it, my mom's face dropped and my dad went still beside me. She walked closer to us and she smiled, her teeth sparkling like diamonds. "It's not me, Olivia. Why must you always assume the worst with me?"

I scoffed. "What can we expect from you, anyway?"

My dad gripped my hand and pulled me away from my mom, whose smile had vanished. She was snarling and that was never a good sign. It meant we had pushed her buttons too far. One misstep and she would claw our hearts out and have it for lunch.

"Liv, no," my dad said, quietly but firmly. "She's your mother and you will not speak to her that way." He let go of my hand and turned back to my mom who was now perched on the sofa and was glowering at us.

"Okay now that we've all said our hellos, what brings you back to your home, Liv?" He smiled kindly, giving me reassurance and an opening. He had understood I had news otherwise I would never come home, especially not for a relaxing getaway.

I wrung my hands together which were sweaty and clammy. I deliberately avoided my mom's gaze. Looking steadily at my dad, I said, "So, I sent in my application to UCLA for the junior professor position at the Microbiology department and it was accepted." I smiled at the pride flickering in my dad's eyes. "I start next week."

"Liv! That's won-" My dad took a step closer to me when my mom spoke.

"Wonderful. Yes, Samuel, we know." She cast an uninterested glance at my dad before looking at me. My fingers clasped into a fist and I was dimly aware of the nails biting into my skin. I wouldn't be surprised if I had managed to draw out a considerable amount of blood.

"Olivia, careers and promotions are great, we get that. But what about Noah? We haven't heard from you in over a year. I feared you might've driven him away," she said, nonchalantly which annoyed me further.

"I can't take all the credit for that, you know," I muttered.

"What?" Wonder of wonders, out of all the things I say that she ignores, this one didn't make the cut. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," I said, through gritted teeth. My dad looked increasingly uncomfortable and was shuffling on his feet.

"Olivia Raine Williams, what have you done? Did you finally manage to blow everything up? Oh, of course you did. Do you realise the inheri-"

"Shut up!" My eyes widened in surprise and my attention cut to my dad, who was actually simmering.

"Shut up, for the love of God! It's always the same thing with you. Inheritance this and inheritance that. Why can't you let our daughter be? If you cared so much, why didn't you secure it for yourself? I married you as a favour, Hannah Kingsmith, don't you forget that."

Samuel Williams, the quiet, calm and amiable man I had known my entire life, walked out of the door. He slammed it shut behind him, leaving me with my mom. She looked deathly pale as if she'd been slapped to the core.

I stood there for a while, next to the dinner table, stunned. My dad had always worshipped my mom and he never went against her final wishes. Of course, they fought plenty but my dad would always concede, always bow to her. I thought it was love and adoration for the woman my mom once was.

But a favour?

After a century of silence, my mom finally cleared her throat. I refused to meet her eyes but she didn't bother. "From what I've understood, you've pretty much flunked it with Noah. I won't ask for anything further from you. But," she said and I winced.

Please don't ask me to patch up, please don't ask me-

"-as a last attempt, I would like for you to leave for Hawaii. Madison is getting married in a month and if you helped your cousin with all the preparations, maybe it would show your grandmother that I did raise you respectably enough. Even if it was not enough to get you married."

She turned to walk away when I got to my senses. "Wait," I called out and she looked at me. "What was all that favour about?"

My mom had the grace to look ashamed. "I did- some things- I am not proud of," she said between breaks. "Samuel loved me enough to get me out of my bind. That's all you need to know."

It didn't make any sense to me but I was definitely not leaving for Hawaii just because my mom wanted another attempt. "Well, okay. Here's the thing, though. I am not going to Hawaii."

At that, my mom walked back to me. "You have to. Madison's already sent the tickets. You leave in a week."

"Then send them back. I start work next week. It's not as if she's going to notice anyway."

"She will. I called her for these tickets. I arranged it so you can take Patricia, too, since you all were friends in university."

I flinched. "You begged someone for invitations? Mom-"

"I lied to her. I didn't tell her why. If they found out I was sending you to get closer to your grandmother, they'd shun us even more."

"That's worse, Ma!" I gripped the chair tightly, my head swimming in a pool of rage and fatigue.

"Don't you raise your voice at me. If you won't go, I swear, Olivia, I will get you married by the end of next month and I will have you turn down the UCLA offer."

My fingers trembled with anger and a ball of rage was spiralling out of control in my chest. My head throbbed. "Wow. Just like your mother did to you? Guess forced marriages run in the family, am I right?"

My mom pressed her lips and her eyes clouded over with rage. "It's not just for me, you know. It's for your father too," she said and clamped her mouth shut. She threw one last disappointed look at me, before she rushed back to her room upstairs and slammed the doors.

And once again, I was a ten year old, left alone in a house that had no real attachment to it.