𝓡𝓮𝓯𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓞𝓯 𝓪 𝓥𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓭 𝓕𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻

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  ⸻⸻⋅☾🪞  ☽⋅⸻⸻

After finishing breakfast, I walked to my room, grabbed a towel from my closet, and headed to the bathroom.

...

The hot water washed over me, pulling me deeper into my thoughts. For some reason, my mind wandered to the summer breaks with my dad, and I couldn't shake the image of my mom's shocked expression the day he knocked on the door.

Just for context, my dad is the CEO of a company, and he's always away for work. He stayed with us for a few years after I was born, but after that, he was hardly ever around. Honestly, I don't even remember him being present much before a few years ago.

I didn't really know him at all until I was eleven.

I still don't really

...

I just don't  get how Mum can be so okay with this shit.

She had to practically raise me on her own while also working on her PhD, probably going through hell to make it all work. And somehow, she's fine with everything?

...

Is she really?

...

I used to get so excited whenever he took time out of his "important" work to visit us. But as I got older, I realized that was barely the bare minimum, and eventually, I just stopped caring. That's the simplest way to sum up my family.

God, I was so delusional back then.

But enough about him

Turning the water off, I stared back at my reflection that the steam had created.

My mind came back to what Mum had said earlier, before she left.

...

Fuck, we really do look alike 

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