My seat seemed to be glued to me because I couldn't move, I was too nervous. Florence was the only person I could think of who would have a key to her apartment, who else would? Y/N does seem as nervous as I am, why?

Y/N stood up to assist whoever it was at the door to open it. As the door opened, I caught a glimpse of what I thought was a brunette woman. I only saw her for a split second before the two wrap their arms around each other. Florence was blond, not brunette. Was this another one of her flings? I swear to God if it is, I will lose my shit. The hug lasted longer than I thought a friendly hug would and Y/N groaned as the woman tightened her arms and squeezed her.

I was sat awkwardly watching, glancing around the room as my hands fiddled with my cup.

"That's enough, mama" I heard and I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders. It was her mother. I could breathe again. 'mama' the way she said it, with a slight accent made my ears perk up, was she Spanish? Before I can think another thought I hear a name I didn't want to hear.

"Hello! Is this Florence? The mysterious girlfriend." A very Spanish accent spoke.

My heart shattered. This whole time I had forgotten about Florence and the fact the two were officially dating. It hurt to hear but what I heard next, hurt even more.

"No, no, no. This is Lizzie, she's a colleague"

A colleague, ouch.

"And a friend" I added, my eyes staring at Y/N like she had just punched a baby. I hated that she had called me a colleague and I could only add that she was also a friend, I couldn't refer to her as anything else, but that is what we are. I'm silly to have thought we could've been anything more. She has a girlfriend and I'm married.

After gathering and pulling the pieces of my heart back together and started thinking properly, I noticed how beautiful her mother was. She had brown hair which was slightly curly, tanned skin and she dressed like a footballer's wife. She had on a black suede coat which reached her black high heels. She looks very young, she must be a vampire, unless she had Y/N when she was 18. She looked 48? Maybe younger.

"Do you work at that club, what is it...?" She thought before Y/N finished her sentence for her. "La Lace... But no, she's from the school. She's an English professor." Y/N said, she seemed proud to speak of me, her eyes looking to me, she seemed happy. When I didn't reciprocate the same energy, she gave me a 'sorry' look, almost as though she was apologising for the remarks earlier to do with Florence.

Elizabeth looked disappointed, upset even. The mention of Florence, I can only assume, made her feel uncomfortable which I can understand. If someone were to mention her husband, I would want to leave. Fortunately, I don't think my mother caught on as she walked further into my apartments, removing her jacket and dropping it onto my kitchen counter, it basically fills my whole counter.

"This place keeps getting smaller, you need to tidy. Look at all this mess!" She complains, looking to my messy bookcase and then to the kitchen, tutting at me as she walks to stand at the kitchen with Lizzie.

I made my mother a coffee, knowing how she likes it.

"You made this?" She asks, pointing to the pasta.

"I did" Lizzie spoke up, smiling to my mother. At the sound of her voice, I turned around and watched the two interact. "I love to cook and I assumed Y/N hadn't eaten tonight so I bought her some." She continued.

"Ella alimenta a mi hija. Me gusta ella." (She feeds my daughter. I like her) My mother spoke to me, nodding in approval. I saw Lizzie look to me with confusion, still smiling though.

"She likes you because you cooked for me" I reply to her confusion and she can't help but smile more, pushing her cup towards me to signal wanting more coffee. I role my eyes, grabbing the cup and refilling her coffee as well.

"Why are you here? It's a bit late for a family visit." I ask, it was nearly 2:30 am, a strange time for a mother to visit her daughter.

"Can I not visit my daughter?"

"Not at this time, no."

My mother smiled to Lizzie, putting a hand on her waist as she began stuttering to tell me why she was here.

"Tu padre está en el hospital de nuevo." (Your father is in hospital again) I don't move. Not a muscle. I watch as Lizzie frowns, sensing the tension as she nots stupid.

"He isnt my father" I grumble.

After a moment of silence, I give the two their coffee and before I can even speak, my mother implodes. An essay of angry Spanish sentences cut at me as she throws her arms up in the air before storming out.

"Eso fue realmente maduro" (That's really mature) I yell at her as she leaves, slamming the door behind her.

My eyes widened as I watched Y/N's mother start shouting at her, it looked serious and I wasn't going to interject. My eyes flick from one to the other before flinching as the door slammed.

That was... something. I didn't know what to say and clearly neither did Y/N as she stood looking at the ceiling, her hands behind her head as she took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry" she finally spoke, looking to me and shaking her head, looking tired.

"I didn't know you were Spanish" I replied. I changed the subject. I knew she most likely wouldn't want to talk about it and considering it was to do with her mother and what I can only assume is her step dad, I didn't want to push.

"My Spanish is terrible and I was born in America. I'm as American as they come"

When she yelled at her mother on the way out, I won't lie, it made my breathing hitch and I stared at her like I could rip her clothes off. It was sexy.

"Do you want to talk about it? We don't have to if you don't want to." I gave her the option, I hoped she would talk to me but at the same time I still had it in the back of my mind that her mother didn't know that I existed but knew about Florence. I wish she knew me as her girlfriend. I really need to figure out how I feel because on one hand, I want to be hers, on the other, I do still love Robbie. Or do I? I really don't know.

"It's nearly 3am, I'm shattered after... that and Florence comes home in 20 minutes. I think its best if you go home"

Wow, okay. I had to tell myself that her mother had put her in a bad mood and unfortunately that meant I have to deal with the mood afterwards. I understood why she would want me to go home, I just didn't want to. When Florence was mentioned, I shook my head. It made me angry that she would even mention her to me. It made me jealous, I wonder whether she knew that? Is that why she spoke of her? I swallowed down my anger and just gave her a soft smile.

"I'm here if you need me. Even if it's at 3am."

I wrote my number on the statement form which was still on the counter with the black pen she had left on top of it. I walked over to her, handing her my mug which was still full of coffee. I did it slowly, savouring the time I had left with her. I stared at her, she stared back. I hoped she would say 'fuck it' and take the mug from me, put the mug back on the counter and throw me onto it as well. But that was unrealistic.

I left and made my way back home.

"Where have you been?!" was the first thing I heard when I entered my 4-bedroom home.

This is going to be a long night.