▪︎ chapter thirty-seven ▪︎

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THIRTY-SEVEN

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THIRTY-SEVEN

stardust

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warning : mildly mature content.

"The fact is, I have always had a father but never had a dad." Ian sighs.

"That doesn't justify your not checking up on him! Ian, I know exactly how it feels --- but, he's sick, and as a son, I think you should give him a call!" I insist, placing my hands on tops of his, which are folded on his lap.

"Fine, I'll do it just because you think I should," He mutters, "And I also know he's doing perfectly fine."

Mr. Eastwood picks up after approximately seven rings. And just as he answers the call, I observe Ian's face going pale.

"I hope you're doing well." Ian speaks, almost in a robotic voice. It all seemed so similar. After all, my daily (see also : weekly) conversations with my parents are exactly like this.

The other line answers something, and after a few 'yes's and 'okay's, he hangs up.

"What did he say?" I ask, my eyes scanning his face.

"Recovering. It was a mild heart attack. He's still in the nursing home. But don't worry about the man, he isn't that weak." Ian mocks.

I sigh, looking up at the sky, it could start pouring any moment.

We were on the rooftop of Ian's quaint bungalow. He had managed to sneak us in without his Nanny noticing. It seemed Mrs. Eastwood was not home and there couldn't be a more perfect time for us to have a heart-to-heart.

"Vanessa, thanks for the coffee." He says and I know it's just his way of changing topics.

"You don't need to be formal with me." I chuckle, tossing the empty Starbucks cup into the dustbin.

"Let's go inside, its getting windier." He suggests, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt.

We walk down a flight of stairs to enter Ian's room, the only room on the top floor, signifying his love for solitude. But how long was he going to hide his cravings for company?

I sit down on his bed while he takes the chair by his desk. The last time I had been in his room was the day we found out about Iris and Zeke.

Oh, even his name sounds so foreign in my mind right now.

Ian clears his throat, "So...are we here for small talk?"

"I should be asking you that." I roll my eyes and he gives me a soft smile.

There was something in the silence that prevails and Ian gets up from his chair to sit beside me. I scoot closer and he returns the gesture by placing his lips on mine.

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