Chapter Five: Dad

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--Chapter Five: Dad--

"Never love someone who treats you like you are ordinary" -Oscar Wilde

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He gave me a grin as I picked up the menu off of the dark wooden table. I flickered through it and my eyes instantly landed on exactly what I wanted. Chocolate chip pancakes, my absolute favourite breakfast food.

I placed the menu back down on the table and grinned over at him. My father slammed his menu on the table too, and glanced over at me. He had dark brown hair, and blue eyes just like me. People constantly tell me that I am a spitting image of my father and I always took this as a compliment. "The usual?" he asked smiling at me.

I nodded my head, "why would I get anything else?" I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, you never know what could change," he said quietly, almost muttering it to himself.

The waitress had come back and took our menu's and our orders. She was back quickly with a tray of hot chocolates to go around. She placed one of the mugs in front of me, and I quickly slurped away at it, "Dad why do you love hot chocolate?" I asked, giving him a small smile.

"It's always good, it's quite consistent. Hot chocolate never varies hugely in taste from different restaurants," he said.

I frowned, "no matter where you get it from?" I asked.

He nodded his head, "hot chocolate is hot chocolate," he stated, taking a sip of his.

We continued to talk about my school, his work, and whatever came to mind. Talking with Dad was easy; everything with Dad was easy. He was always just there for me, and I was always ready for his love. He was a hardworking business man. He ran a car dealership, and did a fantastic job of it. My mom and him were happily married. My parents shared a lot of love for one another. I wished one day to have a relationship similar to my parents.

No matter how much Dad worked, he always seemed to have time for me, always. He made sure I knew he cared. He took me out for breakfast once a month and it was how we bonded. He would take Reece out to a baseball game or to play some sort of sport. Later the waitress came back and placed the plates of steaming hot food in front of us. She scurried away and I smiled at the delicious chocolate chip pancakes that were topped with whipped cream. My dad cleared his throat.

"Bexley," he said quietly.

The name seemed foreign in his mouth. I snapped my eyes up to look at him. Oh no this was bad. Dad never called me Bexley. He called me Lee, not Bexley, not Bex. On the rare occasion he called me Bexley but it was typically when there was something wrong.

"Yes?" I asked, bracing for bad news.

He sighed, "I am leaving," he said quietly.

I frowned, "leaving? For a trip?" I asked, taking a bite of my chocolate pancake.

My dad left his food untouched, and shook his head, "No, I mean I am leaving," he stated.

"Where? Why? When? What?" I asked, confused, not sure what to feel.

"Europe, sweetheart. Your mom and I need space, and I bought out another company... I think it's going to be for the best," he replied.

"But you'll visit?" I questioned.

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