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I woke up feeling more rested than I had in a long time. I stretched, staring up at the ceiling and replaying everything that had happened from the night before. I could not believe Bodhi and I had sex in his office, but my pelvis tingled just thinking about it.

It was my last action of inner rebellion before I had to figure out what I was going to do. The dream had ended. I woke up. Which meant I needed to figure out what path I was going to take now that I had no job. And I needed to consider whether or not Bodhi would be part of that path.

I liked him. Despite my better judgment, I did like him. But I didn’t know if that was enough. I didn’t know where I wanted to be or where I wanted to go. If I didn’t even know about me, how could I possibly make a decision about him?

My phone blared, ripping through the silence like a shot in the dark. I groaned. I wasn’t sure what time it was but it was entirely too early for this.

I glanced at the ID and frowned. I didn’t recognize the number but I knew it was from India, which meant it had to be my parents or someone related to them.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Norah, so good to hear your voice!” my mother exclaimed. “How are you doing?”

I froze. My mother was on the phone, asking how I was doing? Like nothing had happened? Like nothing was wrong? Surely, she had to know Mark told me about the cafe. Surely she knew that I rejected his pity job, leaving his deal with my parents in a state of limbo.

“Actually,” I said, honesty rushing out of me like steak from my shower. “Not great, Mom.”

“Oh?”

I shook my head. Was she serious right now? Was she going to pretend nothing major had just happened while they had been away? Something that she and Dad had conveniently forgotten to tell me?

“I figured,” she continued as my thoughts were fuming, “that is to say, we figured that you would be in a better place once we officially sold the café.”

I blinked, sitting up in bed. My black hair was sticking up, going everywhere. I knew I needed to shower. I could still feel Bodhi’s hands on my body, I could still feel him inside of me, I could still smell his scent on my skin. He was entirely too distracting. I needed to scrub him off before I did something completely irrational, like seduce him once more.

I took in a deep breath. I needed to focus. Had my mother just said she thought my life would be better because they sold the café? Without even telling me? Was she crazy? Had something happened to my grandmother that she was in such a state of shock that she was spitting out crazy statements and assumptions which made absolutely no sense?

That was what it sounded like.

“Why would you think that, Mom?” I asked, trying to control my patience and doing a terrible job of it. “Why would you think I would be okay with you selling the café to Mark of all people? Without even telling me first?”

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

“I’m hearing you aren’t happy, my darling,” my mother murmured. “Why aren’t you happy? You now have the freedom to pursue your dream and become a literature professor.”

“Wait.” I stopped my incessant pacing and slowly turned to look at my bed. “What do mean, I have freedom?”

“Norah, we sold the café when we realized we would not be coming back to the United States for quite some time,” my mother explained. Her tone wasn’t condescending, but it felt almost as if she expected me to know this. Like I was some kind of mind reader. “Your grandmother is okay, as okay as she can be, but she needs ’round the clock care, care that we cannot afford. Which means your father and I decided we will stay until she does not require that care and be there for her in the ways she needs.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, still not sure what this all meant for me. It didn’t explain why they had to sell it either.

“The café was our dream,” my mother continued. “Not yours. We came to America so we could live our dream and allow you to live yours. I know how dedicated you are to this family, my darling. If we told you what happened and what we expected from you, I know in my heart you would have put everything on hold in order to keep our dream alive. The problem with that is you would have killed yours holding onto ours. Your father and I couldn’t have that, so we sold the café giving you the option. You’re a good daughter, Norah. You know you would’ve sacrificed too much for us.”

“Yeah,” I said. It was starting to make sense now. “But why sell it to Mark, of all people? And why make the sale contingent on me having a job there?”

“Well, my darling, becoming a professor isn’t cheap.” She had this tone like she knew, like she researched it herself and knew personally. “I didn’t know if you saved your wages from the café so we wanted to ensure you had a place that would pay you a fair salary and health benefits until you became a professor. We sold the café to Mark because he made us a fair offer and the sale would go through quickly.”

“And if I decline the job?” I asked tentatively.

“My darling, do you still not understand?” my mother asked. “You have a choice in all of this. If you do not need the job, more power to you. We support whatever choice you make in life. Do you understand?”

I did. I hadn’t before, but now I did.

My mother and I talked for another fifteen minutes before we got off the phone. I needed a shower right away and then some coffee.

Maybe after I had both of those things, I could finally decide what I was going to do about Bodhi.