My Roommate

Chapter 45

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Evan's POV—

"Is all of this really necessary?" I ask dad as I tug on the collar closing in on my neck. "It would be easier for everyone if we just received the information or whatever through the mail...besides, no one does it this way anymore," I further complain, stifling a groan of frustration.

I'm frustrated about two things: having to wear formal clothing yet again.

And because for some random reason, all of the beneficiaries in Jaxon's will have to physically meet for the reading of his will—which is something that rarely ever happens anymore. In most cases now, beneficiaries who are listed in someone's will just get a notification thing in the mail along with all the information about whatever inheritance they're getting.

Or at least, that's my understanding of how it typically goes by now.

I don't know.

But what I do know is that physical readings hardly take place anymore.

And yet, here we are.

Since all of the beneficiaries are within close proximity to each other, we're literally being summoned.

"It won't be that bad, and it shouldn't last forever. You'll be fine," is all dad decides to say as he keeps his focus on the road ahead of us. I can only roll my eyes at him.

I'm pissed.

For a couple of reasons.

For one, I still haven't forgiven my dad for what he did—for what he didn't do to prevent Jaxon being killed.

Part of me thinks that I should just move on from it, but it's hard for me to do so. Especially since his murderer hasn't been caught yet—which is very frustrating.

And. The other thing is that all I wanted was to spend the afternoon with Ashley.

But almost the second we got home from our little lunch outing, dad reminded me of this will reading thing—I had gotten the notice about it roughly a week ago, but I didn't pay much attention to it at the time.

I'm not necessarily mad that I have to go to this reading. I'm mad because I let it slip from my mind to begin with. It's Jaxon's will, I should have cared and paid more attention to it.

It doesn't take us that long to get to where we need to be, some attorney's office.

When we get there, we're directed into a medium sized room with a large table and several seats around it. There's not too many of us here, and I'm not entirely sure how many of us are supposed to be here to begin with.

A couple faces belong to people I don't know.

And Nicole's here.

Dad sits down next to Nicole, and I sit down on the other side of him. I gently rub at my forehead as a slight headache begins to form—not too bad to cause alarm or anything.

Just a tad bit bothersome.

My recovery is probably one of the few actual good things that's been going on lately. I have one more follow-up appointment with my doctor, one more scan, and I should be all cleared. Most of my restrictions are gone now, just a few still remain.

Like I still can't do any physical activity that would make me run out of breath.

So no sports, and no running.

I can't dye my hair—not like I want to.

And I can't shave it yet because it could still irritate the majority healed scar. My hair is long enough that it hides the scar for the most part—but I've been wearing the beanie Ashley made me for Christmas just about every day to further hide it.