My Hot Roommates [mxm+]

ʚ part 2: chapter 5 ɞ

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Nathan's POV

After the quick session with Rorden, and after we created my new therapy schedule,  I went back to my step-father's place. Technically it was Lena's mother's house. The place stood two stories tall and looked rather modern. I wouldn't expect anything less. The people were pretty packed with money and knew how to manage it.

It was Tuesday. After almost a full month of staying home and working on both my physical and mental health, it became time that I resumed my old life. My break from work was practically over and I needed to sort many things out. Being a lawyer and not attending for a month was a recipe for disaster. It's easy to lose your unspoken rank.

Before all this, I was in a good place at work. I'd just become qualified and wanted to defend those who were being accused of acts they didn't commit. At the office I worked at, first you started by getting the bad guys. Then you become the one who defends them, after working your way up.

I'd worked my way up and had many clients who stuck by my side. Now, I can imagine that all my progress was for nothing. It was all wasted.

Truth is, while I enjoyed being a lawyer, I wanted to do bigger and better things. I wanted a job that gave me adrenaline, that gave me a rush real life couldn't give. I'm a calm person so I wanted something opposite of that. Like a detective or an officer, maybe an FBI member or something of the sort.

"You hungry?" my step-father asks when I let myself into the house. That's his way of saying "Hello, welcome home." And his way of showing he cares.

Unlike Lena's mom, who avoids my presence at all costs.

"Not really, Michael," I reply as I remove my shoes from my feet and put them on the shoe rack.

He smacks his lips together, a frown forming on his face. "Well, that's too bad isn't it? Because we're having dinner. As a family. Right now."

I blinked, unsure if I heard my father correctly. Family dinner? Me?

"C'mon, waste no time. Go wash your hands and meet us in the kitchen," he said before swiftly turning around and heading there.

I mentally groaned, preparing myself for what would happen, Obviously family dinner didn't just occur unless they wanted something. Perhaps for me to move out of the house. That was fine with me--although I enjoyed seeing Lena more, the presence of other people made me uncomfortable.

I first went to the bathroom to freshen up and wash my hands. Once done with that, I looked at myself in the mirror. Really looked.

The bags under my eyes were slowly fading away. My skin was slowly regaining color and moisture. My hair was in need of a trim. I had a beard growing, as well as a mustache, and both made me uncomfortable. They just didn't suit me yet.

I thought of how people would think when they first met me. I was a big guy, no doubt about that. Big and scary and dominant, Aggressive, sometimes. I reeked of masculinity.

I sighed through my nose and tried muttering good thoughts to myself.

Everything's gonna be okay.

You got this.

This isn't anything you haven't handled before.

It made me feel stupid, and like an idiot, but sometimes talking to myself in the mirror actually helps. It calms me down and instead of worrying, I just think of how dumb I can be.

"Nathan, hurry up!" my father calls from outside the door. Not having anything else I needed to do, I opened the door. Somehow, in the few seconds it took for me to open it, my father was already making his way to the kitchen. I quickly followed.

The dining table was set with a bunch of food, and at the dining table was Lena's mom and Lena herself. Michael quickly took a seat next to Lena's mom. The woman was sitting at the head of the table, and Lena--being in her own little world--was sitting at the other head. The last open spot was to the right of Lena's mom. I gracefully took it.

"Nathan," she stated in greeting, unshowing of any emotion.

I gave her a firm nod, hating this side of her. The professional side. Her makeup was done, her hair was perfect, her clothes fit her exactly--as thought they were specifically made for her measurements. And her face was so...lacing. It lacked human emotion. Lacked wrinkles and other natural blemishes.

I've learned as a kid that perfect is a lie. Perfect isn't good. Perfect is hateful, causing more harm than not. It ruins people, even the one who aren't perfect.

Perfect ruined my mom. In return, it ruined me.

"So," she began to say as she grabbed the glass of red wine. "I've been thinking," she simply states before taking a sip.

Michael follows her lead and begins eating. I work on cutting my steak, not really in the mood to actually eat. "About?" I asked.

"You."

I almost flinched at her weird tone.

"And me," she goes on, "and this family. It...doesn't feel like a family, does it?" she asks.

I don't know what to say. I wasn't expecting this.

She sighs and takes a long drink of her wine before placing it down. "Look, Nathan. You...you're my son. My flesh and blood. I know I never say it--but I love you. I care about you. I was scared to be anything other than perfect because I didn't want you to grow up the hard way. But my efforts...wasteful. I'm a horrible person. I'm so sorry."

I blink.

Was I hearing this all correctly? Why--what...? Why not? Why so out of the blue?

"I want to"--she takes a deep breath in--"I want to work on our relationship. And I understand that I should've got your opinion first, but I couldn't help it. I booked us a vacation." Finally, she turned to look at me, watching for my reaction.

"Well?" she asked when I didn't give her one.

"When? And where? And for how long?" I asked.

"The flights are for Thursday morning. To Japan. And for about a week. We'll be returning Wednesday afternoon."

I looked at Michael, noticing how he was eating as if everything happening was ordinary. "Did you know about this?" I asked him.

"She told me today. She just made the decision of the vacation, Nathan. It was an impulsive one, but the heart wants what it wants."

I didn't reply.

"Are you...open to the idea of the vacation or should I cancel?" she nervously asked.

"I'm supposed to be returning to work soon," I said.

Her shoulders slumped. Her perfect imagery gone.

"But," I continued, "I don't think they'll mind if I ask for a couple more days off."

She smiles up at me, and I almost drop my fork. The smile was unlike anything I'd ever received from her.

"Thank you, Nathan," she quietly says. "I owe you."

I shrug it off. Uncomfortable by the silence, I muttered,

"Could've been paid off had you cooked the steak a bit more."