The Art of Knowing [Completed]

26. • impromptu •

[to all faced with inconceivable decisions, all while trying to choose the best one yet.]

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Ryan puffed with a halt. His body hunched over as his hands rested on top of his knees with swift exhaustion. There was no doubt he could always beat his father at a quick jog around the city, and yet the events from the night before seemed to drape over him as an incredible distraction. While his chest heaved with the sporadic breaths, the young man took a moment to stop by the railing, where an ocean filled horizon stared back at him. He normally didn't take that route when it came to a quick jog, but shortly after Cassandra's gushing over the beautiful scenery, he slowly realized how unfortunate it was that he hadn't noticed the beauty sooner.

"If I didn't know any better... I'd think you'd be training for the Olympics or something," Ryan's father puffed harshly, nearly exhausted as he tried to catch some air after running shortly behind his son.

"My bad," his son breathed.

With a slow walk up to the lakeside, Ryan hung his head loosely as his elbows rested against the railing. The grueling task of breathing at a normal pace proved to be pretty difficult, but with deep inhales, it wasn't long before he could feel his heart decelerate with ease. His father followed suit, mimicking the sudden break as he stood next to his son and looked out into the frigid lake. Thin coats of ice covered the water as certain patches remained in their cold, yet liquid, form. Gerald Eckhardt was rather pleased with the new jogging route that morning. Truth be told, he wasn't too sure if his son remembered, but sudden memories associated with the lake seemed to envelop his thoughts. Gerald shifted his gaze towards his son and almost retracted subtly at how grown up his little boy had become. His once plump and innocent face now replaced with a chiseled structure, along with the same rugged brows and hair Gerald always noticed he had inherited from him.

"Don't really know why we haven't jogged on this side of the city," Gerald mused. When silence engulfed him, he continued to probe. "You remember this place?"

Ryan's gaze fixed upon his father with furrowed brows. The palpable lively tone of his voice was never something Ryan could get used to. "No, not really."

"Oh, c'mon," his father nudged. "I used to take you skateboarding on this side of the city all the time when you were 8 years old. Remember? You were so upset about sharing the board with your sister so you just took off. But of course, the inevitable happens and you fall. Scraped your knee and everything. God, your sister couldn't stop laughing."

Soft chuckles escaped the older man at the thought, only to feel his smile diminish at the lack of reaction from his son. In all honesty, the memory his father mentioned was nowhere near what Ryan remembered. And for a swift second, the young man could feel the guilt starting to choke him. It wasn't until his father mentioned it that he began to recall the day, and yet, along with all he thought his parents were, it was all a distant memory and nothing more.

"I completely forgot about that," Ryan mumbled with a fixed gaze towards the lake.

He couldn't look at his father. If there was one thing he despised, was Gerald Eckhardt's ability to ignore any tension around him. But unlike his father, Ryan could feel it. And there was nothing that could diminish the emotional aftermath of the family argument weeks ago. Ryan remained silent after his own words, although despite the calming scenery he could still feel the burning gaze of his father from his peripheral vision.