“What happened?”
“Oh, you know how high school drama goes.It's complicated.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Okay, but maybe you could come alone?”
“You know what?I think I can bring Marco along for that double date you've been dreaming about.”
“So, you're back together?”
“Sort of.”
“Yay!”
“You're going to make me deaf—stop squealing!”
“You two are meant for each other.”
“I suppose.”
“Alright, Saturday at 4 PM.Don't be late.”
“I'll be on time.Bye!”
I heard my dad pull into the driveway in his gleaming red Mercedes GLE 350, a car he'd cherished since last year like it was his own child.I dashed outside to help him with the groceries as he opened the trunk.
“Let me give you a hand!”I said, reaching for a couple of bags.
“Oh, that's all right, sweetie,” he replied, not wanting me to lift anything too heavy.“Is that lasagna I smell?”he asked, raising an eyebrow while placing bags on the counter.
“Yes!I found one in the freezer and thought a home-cooked meal was better than takeout.”He stepped closer and kissed my forehead.“Go take a shower; I'll handle the groceries,” I said with a smile.
“Are you sure?”he asked, looking surprised.
“Absolutely.”
“Alright, then.I'll be quick.”
Typically, it was my mom who managed everything.She always asked me to relish my free time while I could because once I was living on my own—or with a husband—I'd have to juggle everything like she did.Yet, here she was, prioritizing her career over our family.
Dinner went on for a while, but it was truly enjoyable.I tried my best to be good company for him.Sure, we skipped the topic of Mom, but I didn't want him to feel isolated.We reminisced about the memories we shared—our travels and adventures together, our winter snowball fights, and making snow angels.
I could see the spark in his eyes as he spoke about the moments that meant the most to him; he genuinely cherished our family, this house, and even this town—they were everything he needed for happiness.
I recalled how, on his birthdays, he always let me blow out the candles for him.One year, I asked, “Don't you want to make a wish?”He replied, “I already have everything I need.”
I hoped that one day I would have that same look in my eyes, that same glow of contentment.I wished to discover my own happy place.Yet, in this specific moment, I caught a fleeting glimpse of the joy I had been yearning for.We continued our conversation late into the night, and he insisted on washing the dishes afterward.
I spent Sunday at home, mostly doing nothing.The next few days were challenging.Emily avoided me entirely; whenever she had the chance, she would take a different bus.I felt utterly alone, with no way to change the situation.I didn't even know if the recording existed, and there was no way to retrieve it.
The only bright spot in this chaos was Marco, but our interactions were mostly physical, lacking any meaningful conversation.I didn't mind too much, though; he seemed to want to make me happy, so I wondered if I should be content with that.
My mom returned for only one evening but left again in the morning, and she still hadn't come back.It was Saturday, a short day that ended at noon.
After a refreshing shower and washing my hair, I had about an hour to prepare.We had also planned to go to the movies, and since I hadn't been out in weeks, I was genuinely looking forward to it.
