The Temperature of Love

I ignored him, went to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of cold milk, and drank straight from it.

"Mom, you shouldn't be drinking that."

"Larisse said it's not good for you, especially for women. It can mess with your health—"

"Enough." I cut him off, setting the bottle down a little too hard on the table.

Adrian flinched hard. His eyes turned red instantly.

Even Harry froze for a second.

Then the anger hit him even harder. "Suzy, what's wrong with you? You scared him."

"What's wrong with me?" I let out a laugh, but tears still pushed their way up. "Yeah. I've gone crazy. Driven crazy by you two. And that ridiculous Larisse.

"In this house, is there even space left for me to breathe? Everything I do is wrong. Everything I say is ignorant. Even my existence feels like a mistake."

"Harry, ask yourself honestly. Does this still feel like a home? My son doesn't act like a child anymore. He's like some experiment you're using to impress that woman."

"You're being unreasonable. This is ridiculous." He growled under his breath and grabbed Adrian, who was still standing there in shock.

"Come on, Adrian. We're leaving. We're not eating anything this woman made. I'll take you to that organic restaurant Larisse recommended.

"There's no point talking to someone this backward."

The door slammed shut again.

I sank into a chair and stared at the walls covered in charts.

My phone buzzed. A message from Harry.

[Suzy, I'm warning you. Larisse is coming on Saturday. You'd better behave. If you say anything stupid in front of her and mess things up, you'll regret it.]

Another message followed right after.

[This is the preparation checklist for Larisse's evaluation. You must complete everything before Friday. Miss even one item, and you're out.]

I opened the file.

Three full pages of A4 paper.

From "indoor air quality must be excellent," to "all ingredients must be organic and fully traceable, with QR codes for verification," to "the female host must maintain a positive, calm emotional state, with no negativity allowed."

The last item was bolded in red.

[The female host must thoroughly study Chapters 1, 2, and 3 of Closed-Loop Family Management and prepare a reflection of no less than 3,000 words for Larisse's questions.]

I stared at the list of absurd demands.

You're out?

Fine. You said it.

…

I did not write a single word of that reflection. I did not buy any of those overpriced organic ingredients either.

On Friday night, I made a full table of simple, homemade dishes.

Meatloaf. Barbecue pork ribs. Grilled lamb chops.

All the things Harry and Adrian used to love. All labeled as junk food by Larisse.

When Harry came home with Adrian and saw the table full of "forbidden" dishes, his face turned green.

"Suzy, what's this supposed to mean?"

Adrian pinched his nose, his face twisting in disgust. "It's so greasy. Mom, this isn't healthy. You shouldn't be eating this."

I did not look at him. I just served myself and took a bite of the meatloaf.

It tasted amazing.

"If you don't want to eat, then don't.

"There's that nutrition shake Larisse recommended in the fridge. Go drink that."

Harry pointed at me, speechless for a long moment. "You, you've got some nerve."

He grabbed Adrian and started to leave.

"Wait."

I set down my fork and stopped him. Then I took out the divorce papers I prepared earlier and slapped them onto the table.

"Harry, let's get a divorce."

"Divorce? Suzy, have you lost your mind?

"Open your eyes and take a good look. The house is in my name. The car is in my name. You've been out of work and out of society for six years. What makes you think you can divorce me?

"You can't even support yourself. And you want custody of Adrian? Do you think any court would give the child to someone like you?"

"Who said I want custody?

"Adrian is so outstanding. So scientific. So elite. How could a backward, ignorant mother like me possibly deserve him?

"Hasn't he always wanted a different mom? Fine. I'll give him what he wants."

Adrian looked at me, then at his dad. His lips trembled, like he was about to cry.