“Can we just stop?” I say sharply, looking between Mom and Dad.
Everyone falls silent. Mom slowly drops her gaze to her dinner, and Dad intently watches me like he’s trying to see through the exterior into something deeper. So I look down and keep him out.
“Sorry,” I say quietly. “I just… I don’t want to get into it.”
“It’s alright,” Darren says carefully, and Mom gives me a small, forced smile.
I know I hurt her, and I hate that.
But I also hate how they see me as fragile and treat me like I might break if they push too hard. Theyshouldbe treating me like the asshole I am.
I exhale and glance at the phone. “How are the kids?” I ask, desperate to just get the attention away from me.
“They’re good,” Darren says. “Hunter is at a friend’s and Sophie is out with Claire for a walk.”
There’s a beat of silence, then Dad nods. “So they’re obviously still alive, despite the hoverboards.”
Everyone chuckles, and I release a breath.
“For now,” Darren laughs.
I sit back and listen while they talk about the kids, the yard, and Mom’s book club. No one asks me any more questions, and they don’t try to pull me into the conversation. And while part of me is relieved, it also pisses me off. Because they’re trying not to rock the boat. They’re being careful and tiptoeing around me.
But I can’t blame them. I made it this way.
I shift in my seat, my mind briefly wandering to last night, when nothing was careful or gentle. When I wasn’t floating above my life… I was dragged right into it. There were no thoughts or pretending. It was just… me. And him.
I drag a hand over my face, snapping myself out of those thoughts.
I need a fucking drink.
Once there’s a lull in the conversation, I lean forward. “I should go.”
Mom turns to me with a soft smile. “Ok, honey.” Then she nods toward the kitchen. “Can you wait just a second? I’ll pack you up some food.”
I give her a smile and nod. A real one, because even though I know I don’t treat my family the way they deserve to be treated, they still love me, and they keep trying.
I wish I could be better for them.
She heads into the kitchen, and I stand, grabbing my plate.
“Thanks for calling, Darren,” I say.
“Any time, bud,” he replies. “I should go too. I need to pick up Hunter soon.”
“Looking forward to seeing you guys,” Dad says, reaching for the phone as I carry my plate into the kitchen.
Mom turns when I enter, holding a couple containers of food. But she just sighs as she looks into my eyes. “Cade…”
“I’m fine,” I say, shaking my head.
“Cade,” she says again, firmly this time.
“Mom, really,” I say, gently taking the containers from her. “It’s just a stressful month. I’m at a difficult part in my research, my student is publishing, I have a conference to judge this week, final exams are coming up…” I shrug. “It’s fine.”
She eyes me for a moment, long enough to let me know she doesn’t believe a word of it. But she sighs again and nods. “Ok, then.”
Dad steps into the kitchen as he hangs up the phone, and I move towards the door, not wanting to keep this conversation going.
