Project Apollo: Book Two ✔️

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jason Archer

I stood outside the coffee shop I was supposed to walk into with my boyfriend. Mine. The one I obtained only yesterday. He asked me if we could go on our coffee date, and I was so fucking excited. After last night–after everything I accomplished, I was so excited to spend the morning with Apollo so I could soak in the glow of a brand-fucking-new relationship.

Yet, we couldn't go inside.

No.

Because my parents were seated on the other side of this glass, talking amongst themselves.

Apollo wrapped an arm around my waist as I continued to look at them. "We can go to another place, Cariño."

"I know."

I still didn't move. I couldn't. Because I suddenly noticed how tired my Mother looked–like even though she fucking sucked at coddling me when I needed it, she was stretching herself thin. Maybe over me. Maybe over work. All I knew was that I'd never seen her like this. Not when my Father matched her exhaustion.

The problem with arguments was that each side always believed they had the strongest case to plead. And after telling everyone close to me about what happened a year ago, I realized that I still hadn't told my parents.

What I told Apollo about my Mom was true. She was fucking amazing in every aspect of my life. Loving when I had my heart broken. Held me when I cried. Celebrated every single one of my accomplishments–not only the ones having to do with school. She stayed home from work to take care of me if I was sick. She was the model sunshine-mother everyone fucking wanted.

Unless school was involved.

She had high standards when it came to academics and I always upheld them. I never strayed from the course I was still allowed to choose. She never lorded over what I did with my life so long as I did something with it.

Seeing her like this still twisted a fucking knife in my heart that I needed to remove. It had been impaled in my chest long enough now. I couldn't walk away now. Not after I'd seen them like this. I had...to tell them what happened. They'd likely understand, but when I returned, I wasn't in a place to tell my story to anyone. It was pulled out of me after I was caught, and the rest became a domino effect–each time getting easier to tell it.

"I have to go talk to them."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

I blinked as I watched my Mom run a tired hand through her hair. "Normally this is where people say that this is something they should do alone, but I'm not leaving you to stand in the cold while I spend however long talking to them. You already know the story."

Before he could respond, and before I could change my mind, I walked out of his hold on me and opened the door to the coffee shop. He stopped behind me when I paused at the entrance. I didn't need confidence. I could do this. They're my fucking parents. I spent my entire life with them, save for the three and a half years of college.

I started walking forward toward them, taking a breath. I could do this. I stopped in front of their table with my arms crossed, and they both almost dropped their coffee upon seeing me. Shocked didn't even begin to describe what their expressions showed.

Mom grasped her coffee again, trying to fix herself, but truthfully, there was nothing she could do. "Jason."

"We need to talk."