Dad: "Where are you?"
Me: "lan's house."
Dad: "We need to talk."
Me: "Can it wait until tomorrow? I'll be horne late."
Dad: "No. I need you home now. I've been waiting for you since school let out."
Me: "Fine. On my way."
That was the conversation that led to this moment. Me, sitting in front of my dad on the couch. My dad, telling me something I don't care to hear.
"I would have told you sooner, Miles. I just"
"Felt guilty?" I interrupt. "Like you're doing something wrong?"
His eyes meet mine, and I begin to feel bad for saying what I said, but I push the feeling down and keep going.
"She's been dead less than a year."
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to throw up.
He doesn't like being judged, especially by me. He's used to my supporting his decisions. Hell, I'm used to supporting his decisions. Until now, I always thought he made good ones.
"Look, I know this is hard for you to accept, but I need your support. You have no idea how hard it's been for me to move on since she died."
"Hard?" I'm standing. I'm raising my voice. I'm acting like I give a shit for some reason, when I really don't. I could care less that he's already dating again. He can see whoever he wants. He can screw whoever he wants.
I think the only reason I'm reacting this way is because she can't. It's hard to defend your marriage when you're dead. That's why I'm doing it for her.
"It's obviously not very hard for you at all, Dad."
I walk to the opposite end of the living room.
I walk back.
The house is too damn small to fit all of my frustration and disappointment.
I look at him again, recognizing that it's not so much the fact that he's seeing someone already. It's the look he gets in his eyes when he talks about her that I hate. I never saw him look at my mother that way, so whoever she is, I know it's not a casual thing. She's about to seep into our lives, intertwining around and through and between my relationship with my father like she's poison ivy. It'll no longer be just my father and me. It'll be me, my father, and Lisa. It doesn't feel right, considering my mother's presence is still everywhere in this house. He's sitting with his hands folded in front of him, clasped together. He's looking down at the floor.
"I don't know if this will go anywhere, but I want to give it a shot. Lisa makes me happy. Sometimes moving on is... the only way to move on."
I open my mouth to respond to him.
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