Chapter Five

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Chapter Five:

Our dad sets down two platefuls of steaming spaghetti in front of my brother and I, before turning back to the stove to serve himself.

"Mom won't be home until late  tonight," he says with a sad sigh. "Her flight back from Toronto isn't until nine-ish."

He pulls out the bar stool across from mine on the island, sitting down to take a sip of his beer.

"I don't see how that's a bad thing," I dare.

Charlie looks up to me with a small side grin before quickly shaking his head to banish the thought of amusement. Dad is smiling too, but not at all in a happy or joyful way.

It's a pitiful sort of look; I know he wishes my mother and I had a far better relationship.

She's just so cruel too me. I'd feel like an idiot to actually do something about it, as she's not abusive or anything, but that doesn't stop it from hurting.

I slowly twirl a couple strands of noodles around my fork, not bothering to even eat them until my dad clinks his glass down on the counter top with a huff.

"I know you have your differences but she's still your mother."

This is the argument we have every single time our mother is out of town. I don't expect Dad to understand at all, but it'd be really helpful if he would just accept the fact that our relationship is never going to be the picture-perfect mother-daughter relationship.

"Please, Dad?" I ask. "Just don't get your hopes up. It's been almost three years and she still won't give me a break."

Back to The Incident. The most petrifying days of my life.

When all I needed was someone to talk to, she was never there for me. She dealt all the blame to me and there was no worse feeling than having your own mother seem to turn against you.

He nods as if to say that he gets it, but I know he doesn't. Charlie gets up from his seat to scoop himself some more spaghetti off the stove, and as soon as he's out of earshot, my dad leans slightly across the table towards me.

"You just need to realize that it was really hard for her."

My grip on the fork in my hand slacks and the utensil slips out of my grasp, clattering against the counter.

Hard for her? It didn't happen to her. It wasn't her who nearly got—

A warm hand is suddenly resting on top of my shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"Don't. Ignore it."

Charlie's whisper is barely audible, painfully silent and I look up to give him a thankful smile. Not going to lie here; I was about to lash out hard.

Our dad leans back in his seat with a slightly stricken expression but he doesn't utter another word the whole meal until we all finish eating our pasta and I carry all the plates towards the sink, seeing as it's my night to do the dishes.

"Did you hear that Bryce is back in town?" Charlie asks, calling out from the living room to the kitchen, where Dad and I are still standing.

Our dad looks up from the island he's wiping down and nods. "Yeah, I was on the phone with Leo the other day."

Leo Bradshaw. Bryce's father, obviously. I guess he's also the reason their family picked everything up and moved based on what Bryce told me today. Apparently he's always been extremely successful as he was listed somewhere in the Top CEOs in Canada list many times when they still lived in the country. They're obviously pretty wealthy too, with their huge mansion on the water.

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