Meliza's POV
Five Years Ago
"Meliza, I told Ruby you're going with her to Adriana's farm," Mom said as I washed the dishes.
I froze. "Mom, I already told you—I have plans this summer."
"Sweetheart, you're going whether you like it or not. I took a cash advance," she said, avoiding my gaze.
My stomach dropped. "What? You didn't even ask me!" I replied.
"You've worked there every summer since you were fourteen. It pays well, and we need the money, Iza."
I clenched my jaw. "But I don't want to go back. I'll be eighteen soon—I just wanted to celebrate my birthday with you and Jessa for once." I mumbled.
"We'll celebrate when you return. Don't make this complicated. You love the farm." She responded with finality. I bit my tongue. Arguing was pointless.
"Your sister is coming with you," Mom added.
I almost dropped the plate. Heat rose in my chest. "Fine, I'll go. But Jessa stays. I'll work overtime if I have to—just don't send her." I declared, feeling defeated.
Mom's smile made my stomach churn. "That's my girl. I knew you'd do anything for your sister." She mumbled as I shut my eyes, swallowing my anger. Fighting wouldn't change a thing.
"Mom, Jessa is still young. She should be enjoying her teenage years, not working on a farm," I said firmly.
"You started working there at her age," Mom shot back.
I sighed, frustration bubbling up. "Because I had to. But Mom, it was your responsibility to provide for us. You're our mother, and not the other way around." I declared.
Her eyes filled with tears, and her shoulders trembled as she struggled to steady her voice. "I worked hard to raise you both. Your father left us when you were five, Meliza. I had to be both mother and father. Do you have any idea what that was like?" Her voice wavered, thick with the weight of old wounds. "And now you're talking to me like I did nothing for this family?"
Her breath hitched, and she pressed a trembling hand to her chest as if steadying herself. "You have no right to throw that in my face. I did my best; without your father, it was hard, but I managed.
I made sure you had food on the table and a roof over your head. I sacrificed—" She cut herself off, shaking her head as if words weren't enough to convey the years of exhaustion, the silent battles she had fought alone.
She wiped her eyes hastily as if ashamed of her own weakness. "I've been looking for work, but no one hires women my age. They want younger girls, Meliza. That's not my fault. It's not fair." Her voice cracked on the last word, and for a fleeting moment, I saw something in her that I hadn't noticed before—defeat.
Then, just as quickly, she masked it with anger. She turned abruptly, her shoulders stiff, and walked away, her heels clicking against the wooden floor. The air felt heavier in her absence, leaving me frozen, my own words lodged in my throat.
I wanted to call out to her, to say anything—but what could I say? I knew it wasn't her age that got her fired. She was still young, still strikingly beautiful in a way that turned heads. But beauty couldn't mask the truth. Her temper always got the best of her. She blamed my father for everything, for every bad turn life had taken. Or worse—she got caught having an affair with her boss.
The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I pushed it aside
I'd apologize later—when I wasn't angry, and we both calmed down.
I was almost an adult. I had every right to say no to my mother's decision. But with Jessa involved, I couldn't. I had to protect her. Those girls at the farm were ruthless; if Jessa heard the rumors about me, it would break her. She looked up to me, always proud.
I couldn't let her see me any differently.
Jessa was curled up on the couch, watching her favorite TV show. I ruffled her hair in greeting before heading to my room to pack.
With a sigh, I started folding clothes into my suitcase. I loved Adriana's farm, but after what happened between Vince and me last summer, the thought of going back made my stomach twist.
"Are you leaving?" Jessa's voice startled me. I hadn't heard her come in.
"I won't be gone long," I answered, still focused on packing as she climbed onto my bed.
"Two months is long, Iza. I'll be alone again." Her words made me pause. I sat beside her on the edge of my small bed.
Our run-down apartment in the suburbs was barely livable. I wanted to earn more and find a better place for us. But no matter how hard I worked, my savings never lasted—Mom always needed money.
"I'll be back before you know it," I reassured her.
Jessa shook her head. "You don't have to work so hard. I have my part-time job now. I can help." She softly responded, and my heart melted.
"You should focus on your voice and dance lessons, Jess. You don't need to work." I insisted.
"I don't need lessons, Iza. I want to help you and Mom. I'm a big girl now, " she said confidently.
A pang of guilt hit me. I cupped her face gently. "You are a big girl, but that doesn't mean you have to carry this burden."
She sighed. "But you do, right? You have to work harder... to pay Mom's debts."
I nodded. "We need to help her, Jess. She's our only parent."
Jessa scoffed. "Maybe if she stopped chasing after boyfriends, we wouldn't be struggling."
I didn't disagree with my sister because she was right. Mom's dream of finding a wealthy man had only led to disaster. She fell for someone with a gambling addiction, thinking he was rich, only to find out later he was unemployed and homeless. Now, she was drowning in debt because of him.
"Thank you for helping, Jess. But don't worry—things will get better. I'll do everything I can to send you to college," I assured her.
Jessa shook her head. "You don't have to do that, Iza. I'll apply for a scholarship. That way, we can both graduate, get good jobs, live in a big house, eat fancy food, and drive luxury cars."
I smiled at her optimism. "That sounds like a great plan. But I'm your big sister and want to take care of you. By the time you start college, I'll have a stable job to support you."
Her confidence made me feel lighter, and her smile eased the weight on my chest.
"Be careful, Meliza. I have an early shift tomorrow, so I can't send you to the train station," she said.
"That's okay. Just take care of yourself too. And don't even think about dating yet," I teased.
She giggled. "You don't even have a boyfriend! Don't worry; I'm not ready for that." She shot back, giggling.
"Good," I said, grinning.
I lay in bed, torn between excitement and anxiety about returning to Adriana's farm. I still couldn't believe Mom had arranged everything behind my back and took a cash advance without asking me. Sleep didn't come easy that night.
I woke up early to the sound of sizzling oil. Mom was already cooking breakfast—her version of a peace offering.
"Eat now, Iza. Ruby's dad will be here any minute," she ordered as I sat down. As always, Ruby's father would drive us to the train station when we left for our part-time jobs.
I ate in silence, avoiding Mom's gaze. She cleared her throat before sitting across from me.
"Meliza, I know I haven't been the best mother to you and Jessa. I'm sorry for everything," she said softly. If you don't want to go, you don't have to. I promise to find a job so I can be a better mother for you both." Her words caught me off guard.
Slowly, I looked up and saw the worry on her face. Without thinking, I reached for her hand.
"Mom, I should be the one apologizing. What I said last night was horrible. You've done so much for us, and I'm grateful for everything." I softly said as I squeezed her hand.
"I can't imagine what you went through after Dad left. You were young and alone, but you still managed to raise us. I had no right to complain." I added.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she let out a shaky laugh. "I just don't want you to make the same mistakes I did, Iza. Use your beauty and brain. Don't be like me. I followed my foolish heart. I could have married Klint. He came from a wealthy family, but I chose your father instead."
I shook my head. "Mom, if you hadn't married Dad, you wouldn't have had us."
Her grip tightened. "And I have no regrets about that. You and Jessa are the greatest blessings of my life. I would never trade you for anything." Mom let out, and I smiled, my chest lighter.
Then, with a mischievous grin, she added, "But still, don't entertain boys with no money."
I laughed. Mom had been saying that since I was a teenager, always reminding me not to date unless the guy was wealthy. I never argued because it didn't matter—I had no time for boys anyway. Love was the last thing on my mind between my part-time jobs and responsibilities.
Ruby always teased me about not having a boyfriend, saying it was only because I hadn't met the right person yet. But how could I when my mother constantly warned me never to date someone from a low-income family like ours?
She insisted I find a wealthy boyfriend who could cover our dates and drive me around in a fancy car.
I used to laugh at her reminders, brushing them off. But whenever rent and utility bills were due, reality hit me. Maybe Mom was right. If I wanted a better life, I couldn't settle for less. I needed someone to provide for us, unlike our father, who only left us struggling.