Chapter 4

When Mom and Dad were dating, Mom had absolutely nothing, but she offered her so-called devotion, and Dad fell for it.

Now, Dad merely glanced at the watch and smiled politely, but didn't reach for it.

I had seen that exact watch in a storefront window while out grocery shopping with Dad. It was a clearance item that didn't cost much.

Mom looked awkward. Her hand hovered in the air for a second before she turned to Grandpa, wearing an embarrassed smile. "Dad, Noel is just being shy."

Those words made Dad and me laugh.

But Mom was still entirely consumed with sucking up to Grandpa. She pointed to a family portrait hanging on the wall and said, "Dad, look. We took this for Charlie's birthday. See how happy they look."

I remembered that day perfectly.

To celebrate my birthday, Dad had booked a restaurant two weeks in advance. He had told Mom that the one thing I wanted was a limited-edition gaming console and reminded her to make sure she bought it.

Yet, Mom still showed up empty-handed. She claimed she was too busy with work and had no time, saying I was old enough to know better than to ask for a game console.

I choked down dinner that night through my tears.

The next day, to comfort me, Dad forced her to take that family portrait.

Yet, in Mom's eyes, this was somehow proof of our happy family.

I scrolled through Harold's Instagram expressionlessly.

On December 21st—my birthday—he had posted a photo flaunting that exact gaming console.

The caption read, "The best mom ever bought me the best gift ever."

Best mom? What a joke.

I smirked and retreated toward the kitchen.

Mom was now pointing at the calendar on the wall. "Next year is our 20th anniversary. I'm planning to take Noel to Maravelle for a honeymoon. I've already got it all mapped out. Dad, you don't have to worry. I'll always treat Noel right."

Maravelle was the one place Dad had dreamed of visiting since the very first year of their marriage.

The first year he brought it up, Mom said she was just finding her footing at Orion Tech and needed to focus on work. So, she told him to wait.

The second year, Mom got pregnant. Dad learned that the resort there was great for expectant mothers and suggested going. But Mom claimed that traveling far while pregnant was a bad idea and told him to wait for the sake of the baby.

The third year, I was born. Before Dad could even ask, Mom coldly told him that she had already been to Maravelle and that going again would be boring. She told him to forget about it.

So year after year, Maravelle remained a dream Dad could never reach.

Hearing Mom bring it up again, Dad's eyes glazed over for a split second.

But a moment later, I pulled up Harold's Instagram to show him the truth. "Dad, Mom took Harold and his dad to Maravelle. Eight times."

The earliest trip was 17 years ago, when Mom was pregnant with her bastard son.

The most recent was just last week. Harold had posted a side-by-side comparison of an old photo and a new one.

The caption read, "Time can't erase love."

I gripped Dad's hand and asked, "Do you still want to go to Maravelle?"

Dad froze for a moment before a bitter smile appeared on his face. "No. Never again."

I smiled back, my vision blurring with tears.

Finally, Mom got to the point.

"Dad," she said to Grandpa, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Didn't you say you'd retire after Christmas and hand Orion Tech over to me? I was wondering when we could—"

But before she could finish her sentence, the doorbell rang.

Annoyed, Mom turned and opened the door. The next second, she froze entirely in place.

"Mom, who's at the door?" I asked, smiling brightly as I linked arms with Dad and Grandpa.