Broken Memories, Intertwined Hearts novel Chapter 525

Phoebe was on the brink of losing it. Her mother’s voice thundered through the phone like an unstoppable force of nature. “Listen to me, Phoebe. If you mess up one more time, don’t you even think about coming back home, and don’t you dare call me Mom again. I’ll act like I never had such an ungrateful daughter. Do you have any idea how much I’ve gone through for you? Do you think it’s easy for me?”

With what could only be described as practiced calm, Phoebe set the phone on speaker, placed it gently on her desk, and continued to swiftly edit tomorrow’s article. Her fingers were dancing across the keyboard. Only when the tirade from the other end ceased did she bring the phone back to her ear.

This had become a daily sitcom, playing out multiple times a day. She was well accustomed to it, so she was immune to it now.

Whatever was meant to be, would be. No one could force her into anything she didn’t want, least of all her own mother.

“Phoebe, are you even listening to me? Make some noise if you are, and stop playing possum,” her mother demanded.

Shaking her head, Phoebe genuinely worried about her mother’s blood pressure. How could she still be so hot-tempered at her age?

As her father used to say, Mrs. Wagner was accustomed to being angered by her. If she didn’t get her daily rant out, she’d feel all wrong inside.

Phoebe would endure. What choice did she have? With a smile that could light up a room, she replied in a tone dripping with sweetness, “I’ve heard every word, dearest mother. Eight PM at Lakeside Cottage, a date with Morgan. He is an Ivy League returnee who’s conquered Wall Street for years — an absolute catch. Then at ten, I’m meeting the dashing heir of Yates International, a man of height and handsome features, a match well-fitted for me. You secured him through your tireless efforts.”

Did they really think she was out of the loop? As a magazine editor, she was as connected as they came. The so-called Mr. Morgan was nothing but a pampered silver-spoon buffoon she wouldn’t even befriend, let alone date. Fake degrees, fake experiences — she wouldn’t be surprised if his height included elevator shoes.

And the Yates heir? A notorious playboy.

Phoebe despised her current lifestyle. She had two years of blind dates since she was twenty-five. Was it her fault she hadn’t married by twenty-seven? She wasn’t a criminal. She was financially independent, and an ambitious woman. Who was she bothering?

Yet her dear mother seemed hell-bent on packaging her off like a product on sale.

Family are the people you love most, but they are also the people who leave you feeling the most helpless.

“Phoebe, stop placating me and take some real action. I’m not asking you to bring home a bunch of buddies. I need you to find a husband. If you don’t fancy the guys, don’t lead them on. I have no time to waste with matchmakers,” Meg said with uncharacteristic calmness and gravity.

Meg was at her wit’s end with her unconventional daughter. Most men who met Phoebe were charmed and wanted to take things further. But Phoebe? She couldn’t be bothered with any of them, leaving Meg caught in the middle.