Choosing you over and over again
I made Robin a villain, sorry. She redeems herself though.
The house was in total silence; the lights were out in most parts. The only thing on was the T.V. showing a sports program, along with the plates of untouched food on the counter and the lonely cutlery on the table. You were upstairs, curled on the bed, drowning in tears while repeating the argument over and over again.
You rarely fought with Joe; you discussed things. You had disagreements, but never over the top—mostly over silly things. You really thought you were on the same page.
You should have seen the red flags, but it didn't seem like a big deal until now. Robin was always in her own lane, giving you advice when needed; you never thought of her as nosy or overprotective. You knew she cared about Joe.
The last few months were rough. It was a switch in her that you didn't know was possible. She would come to the house unadvised, requesting to spend more time with Joe, staying for days and being passive-aggressive toward you for some reason. The drop that spilled the glass was that afternoon, after you made steak and veggies for dinner.
"That's too much salt; Joe doesn't like it that way," she commented, leaning in while you seasoned the steak. "The potatoes are too soft for Joe; you overboiled them."
And you would roll your eyes, feeling irritated with each passing minute. Joe had never complained about the steak or potatoes once, and you had cooked them many times before. You didn't understand what the hell her problem was, but you tried to be kind.
The moment everything went down was when you were grilling. Joe was there helping you set the table while Robin served the veggies. She noticed the time you were spending grilling the damn steak and decided to make a problem out of it. She took the spatula from your hand and tried to push you away. You remained in your place, confused and angry.
"Joe doesn't like it overheated," she stated.
"Ma'am, I've done his steak a million times before and he's never had a problem with it," you replied angrily. "You have been telling me how to cook my own recipe the whole time, and I don't appreciate it."
"Then do things right. I'm just trying to help," she said, having the audacity to look perplexed.
"Hey, what's going on?" Joe entered the kitchen and crossed his arms, scowling mostly at you.
"Your mom is being invasive, and I don't appreciate it," you replied, your eyes glued to hers.
"That's not true. I'm just trying to help, and she's being rude to me," Robin defended herself.
You groaned, biting the inside of your cheek, the steak completely forgotten. "You arrived at the house uninvited and told me how to do things in my house, even though there wasn't a problem before."
"This is not your house."
"Mom," Joe warned, his jaw clenching.
Robin turned to look at him, outraged. "Are you gonna defend her?"
"I'm not. I don't see what the problem is."
"The problem is that she thinks she knows what's better for you. She is clearly egotistical and has been unkind toward me the whole time. When I show up, she is very unwelcoming toward me—your mother."
"I'm unwelcoming because you show up uninvited," you replied.
"This is my house, too!" Robin raised her voice in anger.
Something smelled smoky, and you turned around to see the poor steak burning. You turned off the stove in exasperation.
"I just wanted to help," Robin added, tears in her eyes.
You and Joe were speechless, frozen for a couple of minutes until he started moving again. Joe hugged his mom and gave you a glare that showed whose side he was on. You just huffed and left the kitchen, almost running upstairs.
You didn't know how long you were in the bedroom before Joe appeared, looking angry.
"You didn't have to be so rude," was the first thing he told you.
You felt your heart breaking. Memories started flooding your mind—happy and sad ones. It didn't matter in the end. You didn't want to give him an ultimatum because you weren't like that; you didn't fight over men.
"I wasn't rude," you said, without looking at him. "But if it's going to be this way, just tell me."
"What are you talking about? You made my mom cry!" He raised his voice.
"Because she couldn't let me cook the fucking steak the way I wanted," you replied in the same tone. "I don't know what happened, but suddenly she's this weird, controlling person, and I..."
"And that gave you an excuse, I suppose." He was pissed, and you knew it. The way he was clenching his fists and turning red, even his eyes were a bit darker.
You opened your mouth and closed it. You weren't wrong. Maybe you were unkind at some point, but after setting boundaries and having Robin break them, it was ridiculous.
"If you think I'm the villain, that's fine, but you know she did some inappropriate things, too." You were fighting back tears, trying to stay composed even though your heart was hurting so much. "I don't want to fight with your mother over you, Joe." You took a deep breath, bracing for your next words. "So tell me if you are in this relationship with me or not, because I don't want to waste any more time knowing you'll always take her side."
Joe closed his eyes, tired. "She's the reason I chose football—why I didn't give up," he explained, strained.
You nodded and grabbed your pillow and blanket. You couldn't fight for him; he would never fully be yours. Was this what you wanted? You weren't sure. You were so confused by the situation.
"Where are you going?" he asked as you passed him.
"I'm going to sleep in the guest room." You knew his mom was gone; you had seen her car leave. Still, you didn't want to sleep with him.
"You need to apologize to her."
He let you go, still angry. Once inside, you started sobbing. You couldn't believe he would dare ask you such a thing. You were tired and angry. It didn't matter how much you loved him; it was never enough.
You tried to shake off the feeling that everything was over. You didn't want it to be over—you had spent three years in that relationship, you weren't getting any younger, and you clearly loved him and cared about him. Did he feel the same? Could you bear to know the truth?
The next morning, Joe wasn't home. You noticed he had cleaned the kitchen before leaving for practice. The house looked too big and dim for you. You texted your sister, Jan, explaining the situation briefly.
I'll wait for you, she answered. Wine or vodka?
Once you arrived, she received you with open arms. The presence of your nieces and nephews healed your soul a little bit, too. You asked if you could stay for a few days, having arrived with a gym bag full of belongings. For the first day she didn't even ask questions, giving you time. During dinner, you drank wine, enjoying the familiarity of the setting. Your sister had married Tom, an entrepreneur, when she was twenty-one, and they started a family a year later. You had wanted to follow in her footsteps since you were family-oriented too, but the timing hadn't been right.
Joe didn't text you either, making the situation worse. Your aching heart and troubled mind gave you a headache. You kept thinking about why you weren't good enough for him, or why he was so fixated on his mother. Even worse, why had Robin changed so much in such a short period? It didn't make sense. Maybe it was something you said? Something you did?
The following morning, after she dropped the kids off at school, you started crying on the way home. No words were uttered—just raw emotion. Your sister gave you a sad look but focused on the road.
"I'm going to break up with Joe," you said.
She almost missed the red light, slamming on the brakes and sending you lurching forward.
"I think it's for the best."
And you started spilling your heart out, recounting the sequence of events that brought you to that point. Your sister wasn't the type of person to listen and drive at the same time, so she parked in front of Target, letting you vent. She listened to you attentively, making no comments until you stopped crying. The hiccups were terrible afterward, but you felt lighter somehow.
"I always told you that boy moms are off-limits."
"Yeah, but I won't have a problem if Matt wants to date a girl, a boy, or anyone in between." She sighed. "I get it. You love him. However, you need to talk to him."
"I don't want to be that girlfriend who makes him choose between his mom and me."
"And yet, here we are, crying in a Target parking lot," she joked, humorlessly. "I want you to marry someone who is in your corner no matter what," she said, holding your hand, using the same voice she used with her kids when they were being stubborn. "I want your life to be easier. It's weird that this whole situation is happening with her. You told me she wasn't like this until recently, so it's worth talking to Joe."
"What if, after we talk, he breaks up with me?"
"Then he's a moron and doesn't deserve you. Plus, you have a home here," she said, winking.
You sighed, your eyes sore and irritated. "Thank you," you whispered.
You kept up the radio silence, and so did he. After four days, you decided to open your social media. A famous football page had posted a short article with a picture of a stressed Joe.
"Joe 'Not So Cool' is having a hard time during practice."
You gulped. Knowing better, you skipped the post. The next update was similar:
"Joe is having another rough practice today, much like yesterday. The quarterback threw six interceptions during practice. His WR1 told us he trusts Joe, but understands he's not at his best."
You closed the app and threw your phone aside.
On Friday, you decided to go back to grab more clothes. Your sister was making soup, and you were preparing to leave when someone rang the doorbell. You looked at each other in confusion, but you walked to the door and opened it without checking who it was.
You nearly had a heart attack when you saw Robin standing there. She looked immaculate as always, but something was off. You could tell by the way she stood and the dim light in her blue eyes.
"Robin," you whispered in disbelief. You felt as if you were looking at a ghost. Was this real?
"Sorry to show up like this. Is this your sister's house?" she asked politely. "I thought I would find you here"
You were confused, looking behind her expecting to see Jim, but she was alone.
"Who is it?" your sister called out.
When she saw Robin, her eyes widened, but she managed a smile. "Oh, hi, Mrs. Burrow. Nice to see you again."
"Hi, Jan. How are the kids?"
"They're inside right now," she shrugged. "Healthy and active—a little too active for my liking."
Robin smiled, and you threw a look at your sister. She understood immediately.
"Oh, I forgot to fold Matt's clothes," Jan said in a hurry, turning off the stove. "Let me do that first, haha."
She ran upstairs, and you stood in front of Robin, unsure of what to say. Robin sighed and looked down.
You didn't move, not sure if you had heard correctly.
"I've been quite rude to you these past few months." When she looked up at you, she was crying. "You have always been so kind to me, and you make Joe so happy that I regret every action and word I said to you." She wiped her tears. "Joe is my son, and somehow I felt like I was losing him. He's my only child, you know."
"And then I remembered that you are someone's child, too. Joe talked to me the day after your fight. We had an argument, and..." She closed her eyes, as if debating whether to remember or forget. "I-I want him to be happy."
You didn't know what to say, so you stood in silence, looking at her. You knew she was a prideful woman, so Joe must have said a lot to make her come to your sister's house and apologize.
"I don't understand why you've been rude to me recently, and not since the beginning of our relationship," you said, confused.
Robin let out another sigh. "Joe wasn't talking about marriage in the beginning. He is now." She licked her lips. "I was scared of losing him."
Marriage. Yes, you had talked to him about it—short conversations. "When we get married, we..." type of conversations. Knowing Joe had been taking those conversations seriously made butterflies flutter in your stomach. Knowing he had confronted his mother about you made you want to go back immediately.
"But now I know I'm gaining a daughter instead," she added. "Please, talk to him. He thinks you broke up with him, and he's worried. Have you read the headlines? He's having a terrible week. I can't stand seeing him like that."
You blinked, still hung up on the "gaining a daughter" phrase. "I will talk to him."
Someone entered the door's key code.
Heavy footsteps sounded on the floor, and the tall frame of a man with sandy hair appeared, freezing in his tracks. Those blue eyes you knew so well widened, and the pink lips you loved to kiss parted slightly. Joe watched you, his initial surprise fading as a deep frown replaced it.
"Hi," he said, setting his bag on the floor.
You stood up and walked closer to him. He smelled like air conditioner and cologne.
"I'm not angry anymore," you said, tracing his chest with your finger.
"No?" He lowered his gaze, his eyes intense.
"No. Your mom came to my sister's house." You left the rest of the sentence hanging, but Joe connected the dots.
You stood on your tiptoes and kissed him. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, kissing you eagerly, as if he had been dying for this moment. His lips were soft and warm, his breath caught in his throat, and you ran your fingers through his soft hair, wanting to melt into him. His tongue ran along your lower lip, and his grip tightened.
You had to take a step back. "Wait," you said, breathless and dizzy with desire. "Wait, Joe."
"What?" He bit your earlobe, making you squirm.
"How do I know this won't happen again?"
Joe stopped and straightened up to look at you. "It won't."
You shook your head. "What makes you say that?"
"I spoke with my mom about it. Even my dad spoke to her. I don't want her meddling in our lives. I care about you, and I care about her, but if I'm going to start a family, she needs to respect that."
You almost swooned. "A family?"
"All looking like you," he said. You laughed, but his expression was entirely serious. "I told her that it's either that, or I'll distance myself."
"Joe..." Your voice cracked, and he pulled you close into a hug.
"She apologized to me; we're alright," you whispered against him.
"I love you. I couldn't see a future without you in it. You're in all my plans, baby," he confessed into your ear.
"I love you, Joe," you said, holding him tight, thinking about the future and all the good things yet to come.
