xxvi. Cold Turkey And Confusion

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xxvi

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xxvi. Cold Turkey And Confusion

It had already been over a week since Benjamin said we should stop talking to each other, and I hadn't seen or heard of him even once. In all honesty, I didn't feel great about it. I felt like I'd gotten broken up with even though Benjamin and I were just friends and neither of us had feelings for the other that were more than platonic. At least not that I knew of.

Since it had been over a week since the day I took him to the emergency room, it meant that it was now Thanksgiving. It being Thanksgiving meant that my parents would be coming to visit me. Normally, we'd have my grandparents, aunts and uncles over, but this year I wanted to have just my parents with me for the holiday as they would be coming to my apartment and my one bed, one bathroom apartment wasn't exactly fit to have a mass of people over.

Speaking of my parents, the two had come over early in the morning because mom really wanted to spend time with me, and obviously wherever my mother went, my father would follow.

The turkey was in the oven, and the pies my mother had brought with her were sat on the counter. A scent of freshly brewed coffee mixed with all the other scents in my apartment and it all smelled like what I always knew thanksgiving to be. The only thing it was missing was the rustic feel that my childhood home had. I didn't mind it, though.

I watched in horror as my mother added the sixth teaspoon of sugar into her coffee. She gave me a questioning look and I glanced at my father and gestured at my mom's cup. "Why?" I asked, horrified.

My father shrugged with his famous frown locked onto his lips. "She hates bitter coffee," He stated dryly and sipped from his own cup. My father and I both had the same taste in coffee; that being coffee with no sugar and only a little bit of milk. I was glad I didn't get my mother's taste in coffee. That sugary liquid was sure to cause her to have diabetes one day.

I scoffed with a small smile playing at my lips. "Yeah, I can tell," I said, adding an eye-roll to the end.

My mother pouted. "What's so wrong with how I drink my coffee?" She asked as she threw in the seventh teaspoon of sugar into the coffee before dropping the spoon into the dark liquid and mixing it.

"Do you really not know, mother dearest?" I raised my eyebrows at her and gestured to the small bowl of sugar I had set on the table specifically for her. The bowl was already almost empty and this was her second cup.

"Fine," The woman sighed. "I have a 'problem' with how much sugar I put into my coffee, so what?" She used air quotes as she said the word "problem". I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Nothing, mom. It's just weird," I said as I drank from my cup of normal coffee.

"How do you know if it's really that weird if you've never tried it?" My mom asked with a smile. Those words reminded me of a conversation I had with Caroline back in high school. Back when the two of us had just recently broken up.

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