Chapter 3

Vanessa was still pissed as she got to her house. Even after Carolyn calmed her down on her way home. As she got home, she flung herself onto her bed, the comforter bunching angrily beneath her. Her room, though not extravagant wasn't cramped or shabby. It held the comfortable familiarity of a lived-in space. Posters, a mix of inspirational quotes, and her favorite bands adorned the pale white walls. A wooden study desk held a pearl-designed lamp and a laptop with a sticker-covered case. A shelf overflowing with well-loved books sat above it.

Despite the normalcy, it felt charged with Vanessa's simmering frustration. The remnants of Carolyn's calming influence hung in the air, only fueling Vanessa's annoyance. Her phone tossed carelessly on the nightstand, buzzed with an incoming call. Glancing at the screen, she saw it was her mom. With a sigh, Vanessa propped herself up against the pillows, the anger momentarily eclipsed by the familiar pang of seeing her mother's call.

Vanessa answered the phone with a forced cheer, "Hey mom, how are you?" Her voice lacked its usual warmth, still rippling with the aftershocks of her earlier frustration.

"Vanessa dear, I'm fine," her mother replied, oblivious to the undercurrent in her daughter's tone.

Vanessa sat up straighter, the anger flickering back to life. "Why did you call me today...?" she began,” since you stopped calling because I refuse to get married” letting the question hang accusingly.

"Talking about marriage, Vanessa," her mother cut in, completely missing Vanessa's skepticism. "When are you bringing your man?"

Vanessa gripped the phone tighter, knuckles whitening. "Mom, I've told you countless times, I'm not getting married, not now, not ever," she stated firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

The worn copy of "Pride and Prejudice" on the shelf above her desk seemed to mock her, a silent testament to her independent spirit.

"We've gone over this, I won't sit back and watch you waste your life over feminism," her mother warned, her voice heavy with disapproval.

Vanessa felt a familiar anger ignite in her. Here it was again, only if her mom knew what had happened to her, what had transpired between her and her ex-boyfriend, Emmy.

"So you didn't call me to know about my well-being, Mom?" she asked, her voice dropping to a wounded whisper.

"Your well-being is all I care about, my child," her mother insisted, "and getting married is also a part of your well-being."

Vanessa let out a humorless scoff. The room, once a haven of comfort, now felt suffocating with the weight of her mother's expectations. "If you are desperate about marriage," she said finally, her voice laced with bitter sarcasm, "you can as well get married and stop disturbing me, Mom. Have a nice night."

With a final tap on the red button, she ended the call, the silence that followed echoing the immense distance that had grown between them. She tossed the phone back onto the nightstand, the anger morphing into a deep sadness that settled across her chest like a heavyweight.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of a bedside lamp as Vanessa snuggled deeper into her covers, ready to surrender to sleep. Just then, the shrill ring of her phone shattered the peaceful silence. Annoyance flickered across her face as she reached for the phone, squinting at the screen to identify the caller. Seeing it was Carolyn, her best friend, she swiped to answer.

"Don't you have a husband to take care of?" Vanessa fired the question laced with sarcasm.

Carolyn's playful chuckle came through the receiver. "My husband can handle himself, thanks for your concern." Her tone turned serious. "About your date," she began, "his name sounded familiar so I did a little digging online. And guess what? Darryl Peter?"

Vanessa's voice held a bored lilt. "Yes, Carolyn, Darryl Peter. What's the big deal?"

"Darryl Peter," Carolyn emphasized, "or should I say D'Peters companies?"

Vanessa bolted upright in bed, surprise jolting her awake. "Wait, what? Are you serious?"

"Positive," Carolyn reassured her.

Vanessa clenched her jaw, the memory of her encounter with Darryl resurfacing. "No wonder he had the nerve to take my purse!" she exclaimed, anger lacing her voice.

"Uh-huh," Carolyn murmured in agreement.

"Well," Vanessa stated, her voice hardening, "if he thinks he's some kind of hotshot, I'll show him exactly what I'm made of."

Carolyn, sensing her friend's rising temper, interjected calmly. "Vani, honey, slow down. Just get your purse back and call it a day, alright?"

Vanessa scoffed playfully. "Alright, alright, mom."

With a shared goodnight, they ended the call. Yet, sleep evaded Vanessa. Her mind spun with thoughts of revenge, fueled by the revelation about Darryl. As she drifted off to a restless sleep, the only thought on her mind was how to make Darryl Peter pay.