"I'm doomed!"
Zion turned to me. We're in the room right now.
"You're not doomed," he said.
"Seriously, you don't know how I feel because you don't have a mother-in-law to deal with!"
I heard him sigh.
"My mom is very kind to everyone, my wife. Just call her 'Mom' like I do, and be yourself," he said seriously.
I could feel my cheeks burning from what he said. Why "wife"? Can't he just use my name? Is Ally really that hard to say?
I was contemplating whether to wear jeans or a dress. I couldn't decide what to wear.
"Which one will I choose?" I muttered quietly, turning my back to him and walking back into my walk-in closet, facing the large mirror.
"Just choose the dress you feel comfortable in," Zion said, but I shook my head.
"I have to be presentable!" He didn't respond, so I kept looking for something to wear.
It didn't take long before I finally found something I liked. A blue floral dress, styled with blue jeans and white sneakers.
I walked out of the closet and stood in front of Zion, who was now expressionlessly looking at me.
"Is my outfit okay?" I asked as I slowly turned around to show him.
I heard him groan, so I turned back to him with one eyebrow raised.
"Seriously, just tell me!" I snapped.
He sighed. "It's okay as long as you feel comfortable."
I could feel my cheeks burning again. Seriously! He's so annoying.
"Whatever!" I huffed, grabbing my bag that had my IDs and the wallet with the supplementary card Zion gave me.
"What are you fussing about?" he asked, sounding confused. I just glared at him.
"Shut up!" I said and walked out of the room.
When I got downstairs, Zion's mom was already in the living room, sitting on the single couch, waiting for me while giving instructions to Butler Enrod. When she saw me, she stood up and grabbed her elegant bag.
"You're finally here," she said.
I gave her a shy smile. She walked ahead, so I lifted my head—and there was Zion at the end of the stairs, looking at me.
I tilted my head at him, but he suddenly shook his head, making me frown and turn away, following his mom.
"We're going to Cartridge Mall today," Zion's mom announced once we were seated in her Lincoln.
I took a deep breath at the mention of the mall's name. My mother-in-law, huh. Still not used to calling her that.
"I don't know if my dear Zion told you, but we own that mall," she said.
I nodded and quietly listened to her rant about their businesses, then Zion, then his dad—who is now my father-in-law.
"My husband is really good to me, unlike his useless son," she said.
I nodded in agreement.
"That's true," I added.
That's when I realized—Zion's mom isn't actually bad. She's quite cute, actually. I think we might get along.
"Honestly, I still don't understand why my dear Zion didn't inherit me and my sweetheart's personality!" she said, making me chuckle softly.
"Like, why is my dear Zion so cold to others? When me and his dad are warm-hearted beings?"
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry because of what she said about her dear son—my husband.
"What is it about my son that made him your husband, dear?" she asked.
I exhaled deeply. I really had no idea. All I knew was that Zion found my bloody body outside. And something in the way he told me that makes me feel like something's missing.
"I don't really know, Ma'am," I replied.
"You know, I was quite shocked when Butler Enrod told me about you and Zion. It's shocking."
I stayed quiet and just listened.
"It's known to everyone that Zion is a cold and ruthless person. I'm his mother, so I don't believe that 'ruthless' part, but he is cold to everyone. Though I can still feel his warm expression toward me and his dad—but to the opposite sex?"
I blinked softly as I recalled the online story My Lily that I read before I died. What Zion's mom said was true.
"Anyway, tell me, dear," she suddenly got serious, making my heart race.
"How did you meet my dear Zion?"
I got nervous at the question. What was I supposed to say?
"W-Well—" I didn't get to finish because I saw the huge building ahead, with "Cartridge Mall" written in large letters.
"W-We're almost at the mall, A-Auntie," I said softly.
She looked shocked and then her face lit up when she heard what I said.
"Don't call me 'Auntie'. You must call me Mom or Mama like my dear Zion does. You are his wife and my only daughter-in-law."
"O-Okay, A-Auntie—I mean, M-Mom," I said shyly.
"That's more like it!" she grinned and looked ahead.
"We've arrived, Old Madam," the driver announced, and Mom squealed softly. I'm still not used to calling her that, but I have to try.
But she really acts like a teenager.
"Great then! I will buy lots and lots of those cute things," she said excitedly.
I didn't know what she meant—but as we stepped out of the Lincoln, I suddenly had a bad feeling about this shopping trip.