He actually listened to his mother and called off our wedding because she felt I wasn’t suitable for her son. I therefore made the decision to give them both a farewell gift they would never forget for our final dinner together.
Just now, Tyler proposed. It wasn’t really noteworthy. I was sitting on my balcony with him, eating greasy takeout and drinking too much wine, when all of a sudden he appeared, holding out a ring with trembling hands and a smile so big I didn’t even hesitate.
Before he could continue, I replied, “Yes.”
We immediately got to work organizing the wedding. A modest, low-key event featuring a cosplay-themed photo booth and a ramen bar. For us, it was ideal.
He developed websites as a freelancer. Drawing anime sequences took up too much of my time as a graphic designer creating comics for independent publishers. A lavish location and a dozen groomsmen in matching outfits were not necessary. All we needed was one another.
Or so I believed.
Tyler told me it was time for me to meet his mother a few weeks into our engagement. Patricia. To be honest, I hadn’t pressed to meet her either, and he had been putting it off.
I had heard tidbits about her. She was obviously opinionated. She may be intense at times, but she usually meant good.
His sister once told me that she asked his previous girlfriend directly what her financial account looked like, which drove her away.
Nevertheless, I had faith in myself and in initial impressions. So, with the best optimistic attitude I could muster, I chose out good clothing, styled my hair, got a bottle of Pinot noir, and drove to her apartment.
She resided in a large colonial-style home in a neighborhood where every lawn appeared to have been mowed with scissors.
We had driven apart because we intended to move in together after the wedding, so I parked behind Tyler’s car, straightened my clothes, and approached the door while saying again, “It’s just dinner.” You’re capable.
Patricia welcomed me as if she had been waiting to dispel the gossip. She immediately lavished me with compliments and a bright smile.
“Oh, Charlotte! You’re even more beautiful than the pictures show. She said, “So shiny!” after actually touching my hair. What are you using?
“Dandruff shampoo, I guess?” I replied. She chuckled as though I had said something witty. However, as she led me into her house, I began to believe that perhaps everyone had simply misunderstood her.
Lasagne for supper. It was good. Real type, not frozen bullshit. She enquired about my job, poured the wine I brought with pleasure, and gave me seconds.
I informed her about my experience at last month’s comic convention. After I dressed myself as my favorite manga character, a guy called me Sailor Moon and chased me around shouting something.
Yes, Patricia genuinely listened and laughed when I explained the distinctions between manga and anime to her and Tyler that evening.
It was a pleasant surprise. I had therefore begun to unwind by the time dessert arrived. Hehe. I ought to have been more aware.
“Honey, could you help me with something quick in the bedroom?” Patricia said gently as she turned to Tyler after we had finished our meal.
I blinked. “Do you need assistance moving something?”
She gestured with her hand. “Oh no, only a minor issue. Not going to take a minute.
I nodded without giving it any thought. After they left, I got to work cleaning and doing the dishes. I was laughing foolishly and singing to myself the whole time.
After ten minutes, Tyler emerged from the bedroom with a ghostly appearance. His cheeks had turned pale, and his eyes were wide.
“Is everything alright?” I asked, using a dish towel to dry my hands.
He walked out to the back porch after nodding at the kitchen door. I interpreted that as his desire for me to follow. After stepping outside, Tyler turned to face me and let out a long sigh before continuing.
My mother believes that this engagement is a mistake, Charlotte.
I flinched back obviously. “What?” “What?”
“I need someone… different,” she remarked. I don’t have to put forth as much effort because someone with money can contribute more.
I felt my heart pounding in my ears as I gazed at him.
He continued. Because you enjoy cartoons, she claims that although you are attractive, you are not “future material” or mature enough. The same idea has been on my mind, to be honest. I believe… “We should call it off,” he said, pausing to look at his shoes.
My throat constricted. I remained silent. couldn’t. As I looked at him, I couldn’t help but marvel how the man who had proposed to me two weeks prior was now repeating his mother’s garbage as fact.
I understand what you’re thinking now. I should have left without turning around.
However, I had one final move.
I grinned.
I said quietly, “It’s okay if that’s what you want.” However, is it possible for us to share a final meal together? A proper farewell. at my house. Only us.
He blinked. “Like, closure?”
“Exactly. closure.
He paused for a moment. Perhaps my voice set off a circuit in his brain. Then he gave a nod. Indeed. Yes. That sounds… grown up.
“All right, I’ll give you a call to arrange it in a few days.”
“Yes!”
A fool.
I thanked Patricia for everything as I walked out that evening, grinning broadly. Before I crashed, I’ll admit that I shed a few tears. However, I got my plan underway the following morning.
I didn’t cry once more. I didn’t trash the few items he had left at my house or vent to friends. I just called Devon, a well-known tattoo artist in the area, and concentrated on my objective.
Naturally, our shared passion for comics and manga brought us together, and he became one of my best friends. He did some of my own tattoos.
He didn’t hesitate when I told him about my concept. “Oh, hell yeah,” was all I said. I mean, let’s mess this guy up emotionally.
About a week after I first met Patricia, we had supper. I was shocked when Tyler arrived dressed in his finest shirt and cologne, as if we were going on a date.
Additionally, he offered me a small half-smile as if he thought I would be sobbing into his shoulder at the end of the night and pleading with him to stay together.
I opened the door for him. Soft jazz music played in the background while we ate spaghetti and wine. One of his jokes even made me laugh, and I could see him settling in.
I got up after supper and declared, “I made chocolate mousse.”
His eyes glowed. “Really? Are you spending a lot of money on a farewell dinner?
After setting two bowls on the table, I said, “Of course.” I placed a tiny velvet box next his as well.
He gave it a downward glance. “What is this?”
“Just a present to ensure you remember me forever.”
He pulled it open. There was a card inside: A small memento to keep me in mind. as well as a tattoo coupon.
“A tattoo?”
I sipped my wine and remarked, “You always talked about getting one.” “Remember, a meaningful phrase on your back?”
He appeared moved. “That’s… amazing, Char. That’s quite mature of you, I mean.
I grinned. “And you claimed that I lacked sufficient maturity.”
He chuckled. “I guess I was mistaken.”
I returned the smile. “I suppose so.”
We continued to converse. Tyler became even more delighted when I explained that Devon was doing me a favor because he knew him. At the conclusion of the evening, we said each other farewell as though we would see one another frequently.
However, Tyler arrived at Devon’s shop the following day. Later, my acquaintance informed me that the man was giddy. talked about how having a peaceful separation was “refreshing.” declared that he was thrilled to be doing something for himself at last.
Devon made him lie face down and explained the significance of the design. Something that would “teach people something.” But also that I had given him explicit instructions to keep quiet until he was finished.
Tyler made no attempt to view the stencil.
A few hours later, Tyler walked out of the store with a brand-new, plastic-wrapped tattoo on his back. Devon claimed he was smiling the entire time and didn’t care that he couldn’t even see it clearly in the mirror.
When my friend finally texted me the picture, I uploaded it to Instagram. Even if I didn’t tag him, he would eventually notice.
The tattoo said, “Property of Patricia — Mama’s Boy For Life,” and it was beautifully large and black in cursive.
My phone was overflowing with voicemails from him and his angry mother by morning, but I erased them without hearing them.
My buddies sent hundreds of texts as well. They all thought it was amusing.
However, Tyler knocked on my door when he arrived at my place that afternoon. “You fooled me!” he screamed. “That is irreversible! You’re crazy!
I opened the door and gave him a direct look. “Remember, I’m just ‘not future material’ or’mature.'”
I shrugged and closed the door in front of him as he stood directly outside my flat, angry yet still.
Patricia also visited once, but I didn’t open the door.
After six months, a friend informed me that Tyler’s freelance employment had stopped, so he had to return to live with mom. He was apparently undergoing laser treatment as well, but even after multiple sessions, the tattoo remained somewhat visible.
Rumor has it that he still uses dating apps and is unmarried. “Seeking someone who respects family values,” reads his bio.
And me?
I’m now seeing Devon. Your chemistry really blossoms when you assist a girl in plotting retaliation.
I’ve been drawing a lot for him lately as he inks the magic, and he refers to me as his muse.
One thing Patricia was correct about. That was not the future I was designed for.
However, I definitely created a superior one.
