I don’t want to go there…

My father and I didn’t talk much that night. The level of awkwardness between us was embarrassing. I knew that he was nearly bursting with all the questions he wanted to ask me and all the things he wanted to tell me. Our relationship was never the best, but I don’t think it’s been this strained. Father tells me that we both need to handle this carefully, so he will be giving me enough space.

Fine by me. I am in no hurry to venture through this particular no-man’s land.

***

The next morning, I’m mildly startled by the unfamiliar surrounding as I wake up but before I can panic the memories of the night before flood my mind. I sit silently on the bed as I go through them, one by one as not to overwhelm myself. The hurt I feel is significantly less, but not enough to be called faded.

I really don’t want to go to school today. I don’t want to face whatever awaited me there.

But the other choice was to stay here in this house and face my father.

The choice is easy when comparing the options.

Dressing up in my normal university clothes, I silently collect my bag to slip out of the house. The mansion is far more beautiful in the morning light than in the night, and I feel a pang as it brings forth past memories that I’d rather keep buried.

My plan to sneak out of the house is, however, crushed by Gerald, who stands near the front doors, shooting me knowing glances.

I sigh, “It’s too early for this.”

replies haughtily, “I’m just here to give you a ride

correct him automatically, “And I can use

hour? Good luck,” he snorts,

away. I walk to follow him, but suddenly, my phone starts to

take it out. Who is calling me at

is Jace Greyson,”

is Lucinda, and I don’t know if you recognize me, but we went to the same high school and I

is right, I can’t really place a face for that name. Nonetheless,

there. How are

you to notify you of the Annual Alumni Association meeting happening later this afternoon. You failed to make an appearance last

from last year, “I’m sorry about

this year, there are a lot of people looking forward to reconnecting

venue and makes me promise that I would try to make it. I agree half-heartedly although

from which I still haven’t recovered. Regrettably, I’ve turned to numbing my feelings in

did not want him or his family to

attend the dinner and meeting, but I am quite curious about my former classmates. With my job gone,

the hell, I think, what’s the worst that could

***

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