Between Then and Now (Hallow’s End #1)

14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I WOKE UP GROGGY, the remnants of sleep still clinging to me as I blinked against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. My head felt a little heavy from the wine but, as I stretched out in the bed, the ache faded, replaced by a sense of comfort. I had been too tired the night before to notice much, but now I took in the room around me, appreciating the subtle charm that was distinctly Ivy.

The walls were a soft sage green, with framed pressed flowers and delicate botanical prints in frames, each one chosen with care. A macramé wall-hanging draped artfully over the headboard, adding a touch of bohemian flair. The bed I had sunk into the night before was a haven of comfort, piled high with mismatched pillows and a quilted comforter that felt like a warm embrace.

In one corner, an antique wooden dresser held an assortment of candles, crystals, and small potted plants, their leaves trailing over the edges in a gentle cascade. A worn but well-loved armchair sat beside it, draped with a knitted throw in rich, earthy tones. On the opposite side of the room, a small bookshelf was crammed with books. A thick, woven rug, in shades of deep burgundy and gold, covered the floor.

Ivy had clearly put thought into every detail, creating a space that felt like a sanctuary for her guests. Even the scent of lavender lingered in the air, a calming presence that eased the mild ache in my head from the wine the night before.

As I lay in bed, stretching out the last remnants of sleep, faint sounds drifted in from beyond the door from the kitchen. The soft clinking of dishes, the gentle hum of activity. My senses gradually sharpened, and I caught the sweet scent of something cooking; a warm, sugary aroma that hinted at pancakes, or maybe waffles? But more than anything, the rich, comforting smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, making my mouth water, and coaxing me fully awake.

I reluctantly pulled myself from the bed, the quilted comforter slipping off as I swung my legs over the side. I rummaged for some clean clothes in the small bag I’d brought with me, and my fingers brushed against the soft fabric of my favorite oversized sweater. I pulled it out, along with a pair of leggings.

After slipping into the fresh clothes, I ran a hand through my hair, attempting to tame the mess that sleeping had made of it, before padding toward the kitchen. The aroma of breakfast grew stronger with each step, and my stomach gave a small, hopeful growl.

When I reached the kitchen doorway, I paused, taking in the scene before me. Warm morning light bathed the kitchen, casting a golden glow over the space. Ivy moved about with a practiced ease, her dark blue hair piled into a messy bun that seemed to defy gravity. She wore a pair of whimsical, mismatched socks that peeked out from under the hem of her pajama pants.

The kitchen itself was a charming blend of rustic farmhouse vibes, and Ivy’s eclectic tastes. The walls of the kitchen were painted a soft, creamy white, and open wooden shelves displayed an array of mismatched dishes, jars filled with spices, and potted herbs that added pops of green. The polished wood of the countertops hinted at years of use, showcasing their worn but well-loved appearance, and a large farmhouse sink sat beneath a window, its apron front catching the sunlight. Above it hung a curtain with a delicate lace trim, fluttering in the morning breeze from the open window.

Ivy was at the stove, flipping pancakes in a cast-iron skillet with a flick of her wrist. The smell of butter and syrup filled the air, mingling with the rich aroma of coffee that brewed in an old-fashioned percolator on the counter. A small chalkboard hung on the wall nearby, with a handwritten note that read TODAY’S SPECIAL: CHOCOLATE CHIP PANCAKES.

Ivy turned and caught sight of me, and a bright smile spread across her face, lighting up her already glowing features. “Good morning, sleepyhead!” she called out, her voice warm and cheerful. “I hope you’re hungry. I made enough pancakes to feed an army!”

“Morning,” I replied, stepping into the kitchen. “You’re really spoiling me with this. I usually just grab a bowl of granola for breakfast, if I’m lucky.”

Ivy grinned as she flipped another pancake. “Well, that’s going to change whenever you stay here. I’m all about starting the day with a sugar rush. Consider it my personal mission to get you hooked on the good stuff before lunchtime.”

I laughed, the thought of Ivy’s pancake breakfasts becoming a regular thing warming my chest. “I think I could get used to that.”

“Go ahead, grab some coffee and have a seat. Breakfast will be ready in just a minute.” She pointed to a steaming mug waiting on the counter.

I took the cup gratefully, wrapping my hands around it as I inhaled the rich scent. The coffee was strong and smooth; the perfect way to start the day. Ivy brought a plate piled high with chocolate chip pancakes to the table, setting it down with a satisfied grin.

As soon as the sweet aroma filled the air, Salem came trotting into the room, his sleek black fur catching the morning light. With a quick leap, he hopped onto the chair next to me, his big, green eyes fixed on the pancakes with undeniable interest.

“Looks like someone else wants breakfast, too,” I joked, nodding toward Salem, who was now staring at the stack like it was his own personal feast.

Ivy glanced over and laughed. “Salem, you know you can’t have pancakes! You’re already spoiled enough with your fancy cat food!”

He let out a small, indignant meow, as if protesting his unfair treatment, making both of us burst into laughter.

As I poured syrup over the pancakes, Ivy slid into the seat across from me, giving me a playful but earnest look. “So, are you really staying in Hallow’s End like you said last night? Or was that just the wine talking?”

I picked up my fork, hesitating for a moment before nodding. “No, I’m really staying. I think it’s time I rip the band-aid off and talk to my parents today. It’s embarrassing that it’s taken me this long to stand on my own, but I need to live my own life.”

Ivy reached over, squeezing my hand. “Hey, it’s not embarrassing at all. Everyone has their own timeline. What matters is that you’re making the choice now . It’s brave, Vinnie, and it’s never too late to start living the life you want. ”

I gave her a grateful smile and took a bite of the pancake. It was deliciously sweet and comforting, just what I needed. “Thanks, Ivy. At least I’ll have my date to look forward to after all that stress. And with me staying here, I can actually think about giving Ethan a real chance.”

Ivy’s eyes lit up with excitement as she took another bite of her pancake. “Well, now I’m even more excited! We have to plan something with Amelia. I’m determined to have our own girl group—or witches’ coven, if you will.”

I laughed at the idea, imagining the three of us as a quirky, magical trio. “That would be cool! And Amelia seemed so open and welcoming the other day, like she was ready to be my best friend from the moment we met.”

Ivy grinned, nodding enthusiastically. “That’s Amelia for you. She dives in headfirst, no hesitation. It’s like she pulls everyone into her orbit without even trying. She has this incredible ability to make you feel like you belong in her world from the moment you meet. It’s one of her best traits. But when it comes to her heart and committing? That’s a whole different story.”

She grimaced, then quickly shook it off with a bright smile. “Oh, and heads-up, she’s super grouchy in the mornings, and her humor? Definitely on the sarcastic side. But, you’ve got to love her.”

I chuckled. “It sounds like she’s exactly the kind of person I need in my life right now. Someone who’s not afraid to go all in and embrace whatever comes her way.”

Ivy nodded, her smile softening into something more sincere. “Exactly. We all need friends like that—people who remind us to be brave and take chances, even if we don’t always know where we’ll land.”

“Well, I’m in. Let’s build that coven. ”

Just as Ivy was about to say something, a sudden rustle caught our attention, and we turned just in time to see Salem, quick as lightning, leap onto the table and snatch a pancake between his teeth.

“Salem!” Ivy exclaimed, jumping up from her chair. “You petty thief!”

Salem darted off the table, the pancake flapping absurdly from his mouth as he bolted across the room. Ivy, her loose pajama pants trailing behind her, took off in pursuit. “Get back here, you rascal! That’s not for you!”

I doubled over with laughter, until finally, Ivy halted, hands on her hips, her face full of exasperation. “Well, it looks like Salem’s decided he’s joining us for breakfast,” she said with a sigh, her lips twitching into a smile as she made her way back to the table. “You’ll have to forgive my furry little menace.”

Still laughing, I wiped a tear from my eye. “I think he just wanted to be part of the fun. And it’s nice to know someone appreciates your cooking as much as I do.”

Ivy shook her head, still grinning as she sat back down. “Well, he’s certainly got great taste, I’ll give him that.”

Later that day, I sat at my kitchen table, my laptop open in front of me, its screen casting a pale glow in the otherwise silent room. The weight of what I was about to do felt like a stone lodged in my chest, but I knew I had to tell my parents about my decision to stay in Hallow’s End and open my art gallery. The very thought filled me with dread. This wasn’t just a phone call—it was a declaration of independence. A step towards the life I wanted, and one I knew they wouldn’t approve of.

Taking a deep breath, I clicked on my mom’s contact in my video call app, and the familiar ringing tone began to echo through the room. My hands trembled, and I had to clench them into fists to steady myself. Each ring felt like a countdown.

When the call connected, my mother’s face appeared on the screen, perfectly composed as always. Her blonde hair was styled impeccably, and her gray eyes sparkled with a warmth that I knew would quickly transform into disappointment in approximately two minutes, after she heard what I had to say.

“Lavinia, darling! It’s so good to see you. How are you?” she asked, her voice full of genuine affection that took me by surprise.

“Hi, Mom. I’m good. How are you guys?” I replied, forcing a smile, though my nerves were getting the better of me.

I glanced at the familiar setting behind them—the elegant living room of our family home in Cresden. The soft glow of the crystal chandelier illuminated the room, showcasing carefully arranged furniture, and the grand piano that my mother insisted on keeping polished, even though no one played it. They seemed to be in the middle of one of my mother’s forced family bonding activities—perhaps a game of chess that she always insisted my father play with her to keep his mind sharp.

Before I could say more, my father’s stern face filled the screen, his neatly trimmed dark brown hair now peppered with gray, and his piercing blue eyes locked onto mine with that all-too-familiar look of disapproval. He wore a tailored suit, as always.

“Lavinia, when are you going to stop this childish rebellion and come home?” My father’s voice was sharp, cutting through the small talk with the precision of a blade. His brows furrowed, and he set his jaw in that stern, unyielding way that always made me feel like a child being scolded. My mother, sitting beside him on the pristine white sofa, shot him a look of thinly veiled irritation as she gently placed a manicured hand on his arm; a silent plea for restraint.

“Jonathan, please,” she said, her tone a careful blend of frustration and concern. Her eyes softened as they turned back to me, though the tension in her posture betrayed her own anxiety. “Let’s hear what Lavinia has to say.”

My father’s mouth tightened into a hard line, but he gave a curt nod as he leaned back, his arms crossing over his chest in a defensive posture. My mother’s fingers lingered on his arm for a moment longer, a subtle attempt to soothe the situation, before she turned her full attention back to me, her gaze expectant but not unkind.

I tried to muster a smile, but it felt forced under the weight of my father’s bored, angry expression. His eyes had already glazed over with impatience, and the stern set of his mouth made my heart sink further. “It’s been a while. I just wanted to check in with you.”

My mother leaned forward, her eyes showing a glimmer of interest despite the tension in the room. She tucked a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear, a soft smile playing on her lips as she tried to bridge the gap. “How have you been, dear? How’s life in that little town treating you?”

I hesitated, feeling the weight of the real reason for my call pressing down on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to dive into it just yet. I was stalling, and I knew it. “It’s been really good, actually,” I began, trying to keep my tone light. “I’ve made new friends, and the whole town is buzzing with excitement for the upcoming Halloween festival. It’s such a beautiful place.”

“That sounds lovely, darling,” my mother said, her voice softening as she tried to be supportive. “It’s good that you’re making friends. ”

I smiled, feeling a small wave of relief. “And there’s this amazing coffee shop, Harvest Moon. Mom, you have to try their coffee someday—it’s even better than the one in Cresden.”

My mother’s smile remained, though it was tinged with scepticism. “Better than Cresden’s? That’s hard to believe,” she said. “But I’m glad you’re enjoying your time there, darling.” She paused, her expression softening, “It’s good that you’re making the most of your trip.”

My mother’s gentle tone was a lifeline in the storm of my father’s harshness, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. I knew I’d hurt her after our last call, where I had snapped and unloaded all my frustrations, and the memory of that argument still weighed on me, making this moment even more difficult.

“Mom,” I began, my voice softer, “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. I know the last time we talked . . . it wasn’t easy.”

She offered a small, understanding smile. “It’s alright, Vinnie. We both needed time to collect ourselves and think things through. I’m just happy you set up this video chat today. It means a lot to me.”

Her words gave me a bit of comfort, and I nodded, though my nerves were still bubbling beneath the surface. “I appreciate that, Mom.”

“You’ve always been strong-willed. It’s one of the things I admire about you, even if it makes things difficult sometimes.”

“Enough with the small talk, Lavinia,” my father snapped, cutting through the moment with as much subtlety as a machete. His tone was sharp, and his impatience stung. “Get to the point. Why did you really call?”

I flinched at his words, my smile faltering as the pressure mounted. This was it—time to face the music.

“Fine. I wanted to let you both know that I’ve decided to open an art gallery here. I’m staying in Hallow’s End for good.” I blurted it all in one go, wanting to get it over with.

There was a moment of stunned silence, and my father’s face turned a deep shade of red, his jaw clenched so tightly that I could see the muscles twitch. My mother’s eyes widened in shock, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“You can’t be serious,” my father finally spat out, his voice shaking with barely contained fury. “An art gallery? In that nowhere town? How could you throw away your future like this?”

My mother quickly lowered her hand, trying to intervene, her voice softer, though trembling with anxiety. “Jonathan, let’s just calm down for a moment.” She turned to me, her tone pleading. “Lavinia, are you sure this is what you want? Have you thought this through?”

“Yes, Mom,” I replied, my voice trembling but firm. “I’ve thought about it a lot. This is what I want.”

My father’s fury only grew, and he leaned closer to the camera, his eyes blazing with anger. “You’re making a colossal mistake, Lavinia! I’ve already planned for you to work with me, to learn the business from the ground up. Do you have any idea the effort that’s gone into this? The partnership agreement with Sterling Enterprises, the plan for you and Sebastian to work together—all of it was done with your future in mind. The idea was for you to eventually merge our companies, to build something bigger and better! And now, you’re throwing it all away for some . . . childish dream ?”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I held them back. “I understand, Dad, but—"

“You understand nothing!” he bellowed, slamming his fist down on the desk, making the camera shake. “Do you think this hobby of yours will sustain you? You’ll be on your own, Lavinia! No more financial support, no more connections! I give it a few months before you’re crawling back, begging for help.”

His words cut deep, each one like a lash, but I refused to back down. Before I could even begin to respond, he delivered the final blow.

“I should have had a son. Someone who wouldn’t throw away their future on a whim. You’ve been nothing but a disappointment.”

“Jonathan, stop!” my mother cried out, her hand reaching toward him as if she could physically pull him back. But it was too late. With one last glare, he stormed out, the screen shaking as the door slammed behind him.

My mother and I were left staring at each other, the silence between us heavy and suffocating. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with shock and sadness. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out, her expression full of helplessness and heartbreak.

I felt utterly drained, the reality of what had just happened settling in. The path I’d chosen had just become even more daunting, but I knew, deep down, that I couldn’t turn back now.

“Lavinia, darling, you know your father only wants what’s best for you,” my mother whispered, her voice softened by concern. “He’s just . . . disappointed. He doesn’t understand why you’re throwing everything away.”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure as frustration welled up inside me. “Mom, I’m not doing this to hurt you or Dad. I just need to follow my own path.”

She sighed, her eyes searching mine, her concern etched deeply into her features. “I understand that, Vinnie, but you have to see where we’re coming from. Your father and I both want you to be happy; to have a secure future. To us, that means being a part of the world we’ve built—a life of comfort, stability, and connections. Marrying well, engaging in the lifestyle, and running your father’s company—that’s what we envisioned for you.”

Her words twisted like a knife in my heart, but I forced myself to stay calm, even as anger simmered beneath the surface. “Mom, that world you’re describing, it’s never been me . I appreciate everything you and Dad have done for me, but those dreams are yours, not mine. I can’t just fit into that mold and pretend it’s what I want.”

My mother’s expression softened, but worry still lingered in her eyes. “But darling, think about what you’re giving up. We just want you to be safe and secure. We thought by now you’d understand that this isn’t about stifling your dreams. It’s about ensuring you have a future.”

Anger washed over me. She didn’t understand. “Mom, I get you want what’s best for me, but this isn’t just about safety, or security. It’s about control , and I can’t live like that anymore. I need to do this, for myself.”

She hesitated. “How will you sustain it, Lavinia? Opening an art gallery isn’t easy. What will you do for money?”

“I’ve saved up,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been putting money aside for a long time, and I’m confident I can make this work. Mom. I've given this a lot of thought. I’m not just jumping into it without a plan.”

Her brow furrowed as she considered my words. “But Vinnie, this is such a big decision. What if it doesn’t work out? You’re giving up so much security. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

The desperation in her voice tugged at my heart, but I knew I had to stand firm. “I know it’s a risk, Mom. But I need to take it. I’ve made up my mind. This is what I need to do.”

My mother’s face tightened, but her tone remained soft, almost coaxing, as if trying to soothe a stubborn child. “Sebastian has been asking about you, you know,” she said, her voice dripping with concern. “He’s worried, and talks about you all the time. Wondering how you’re doing. If you come home, I’m sure I can talk to your father. We can make this all right again. You and Sebastian could pick up where you left off.”

Her words were like a siren’s song, painting a picture of a life that was easy, familiar, and safe. A life where I didn’t have to fight so hard for everything.

“Think about it, Lavinia,” she continued, her voice growing warmer. “Sebastian could take over the business, and you could focus on your art without the burden of running a gallery. We could host charity events and galas, showcasing your work, and you’d have the stability and support of your family. It’s the best of both worlds. And don’t forget, you and Sebastian were so close to marriage. A perfect life, with children one day. It’s all within reach. A good compromise.”

“Mom, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. I really do. But I need to do this on my own terms. Yes, Sebastian reached out, but only when he was drunk and feeling sorry for himself. If he really missed me, he would have made more of an effort. Something real, not just the scraps he’s willing to give when it suits him.”

My mother’s expression hardened. “Lavinia, Sebastian has responsibilities, a business to run. You know how demanding that world is. He can’t just drop everything to chase after you.”

A pang of bitterness rose up. “Sure, he can’t drop everything for me, but he doesn’t seem too busy to go out with his friends. I saw a picture the other night of him with Jessica Maddox. Looked like they were pretty cozy. Maybe she’s the one keeping him busy now,” I muttered, my voice thick with sarcasm. “I’m done being the afterthought in Sebastian’s life. I want something real ! Someone who’s all in, not just halfway there when it’s convenient!”

“Lavinia,” my mother began, a touch of reprimand in her tone, “that’s not fair. I’m sure there’s an explanation. ”

I sighed in familiar frustration. Once again, my mother was glossing over the real issue with Sebastian, focusing on appearances, rather than the truth of how things had been between us. “Mom, it’s not just about her. It’s about how Sebastian and I were, how he made me feel—like I was only worth his time when he didn’t have something better to do. I can’t live like that anymore.”

My mother sighed softly, her expression one of gentle insistence as she tried to find the right words. “Lavinia, I know Sebastian wasn’t perfect, but he loved you in his own way. He’s a good man. If you gave him another chance, I’m sure he’d try harder. He’s always been so lovely, so caring , when he talks about you. People make mistakes, but that doesn’t mean they can’t change.”

Hearing her defend Sebastian yet again made my stomach churn. It was like she couldn’t see past the polished surface he presented to the world. Or maybe she didn’t want to. The Sebastian my parents adored wasn’t the same man I had spent so many years with, the one who had repeatedly taken me for granted.

“Mom, stop,” I interrupted, the frustration bubbling over. “Please, just stop with Sebastian! I need to move on, and it would help if you and Dad—and Sebastian’s parents—would just let me ! I know you all mean well, but you’re making it harder for both of us.”

Before she could respond, I blurted out, “Actually, I’m seeing someone new.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how much I had overstated the situation. Seeing someone didn’t exactly describe whatever it was that I had going on with Ethan. We’d been flirting, and there was definitely physical attraction, but we hadn’t even gone on a proper date yet.

“Seeing someone already?” My mom’s eyes widened in surprise. “Lavinia, that seems awfully quick. Why the rush?”

“Quick?” A wry laugh escaped me as I shook my head. “You didn’t think it was quick when I jumped into things with Sebastian. In fact, you practically pushed me into it.”

My mother opened her mouth to respond, but her words faltered. I could see her trying to process this new information, trying to reconcile her own insistence on my relationship with Sebastian with my sudden declaration of something new.

My mother sighed, her shoulders sagging as the fight seemed to drain out of her. “I just want you to be happy, darling. This is all happening so fast.”

“I know, Mom,” I said, my voice softening. “But for once, I need to do things my way. Please, just trust me on this.”

There was a long pause as the weight of our conversation settled in. Finally, she nodded, though I could see the worry still etched in her features. “Alright, Lavinia. I’ll try.”

As we ended the call, I felt a sense of liberation, but also the heavy reality of what it meant now, to truly stand on my own.