Last Chance

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait in the car while I go and bring your stuff?” my father asks for the second time, or is it the third, I have already lost count, he looks a bit anxious, and I know he is worried about me and the outcome of the next confrontation, we are now in front of Emma’s house, the one I ran away from several nights ago, my father had insisted that I stay for a while, calm down, and think things through without any interference from anyone.

I can’t say I feel any less angry at what I have learned, but I am not as hurt as before, the pain had numbed somehow, my father had kept me company all this time, I helped him clean the apartment, making it more descent, and in the last few days, we took our time to learn more about each other, well, it was mostly him telling me stories fr