Before You Fall

Chapter 11

I rubbed my sleepy eyes with the back of my hand as I strained milk tea into my mug. Letting out one last yawn, I brought the mug near my lips yearning the feeling of the tea on my tastebuds.

"Shit." I cursed under my breath, feeling a huge burn on the tip of my tongue. I briskly dropped the mug back on the counter top, spilling a few droplets on the surface.

I licked my lips, resting my arms on the cold surface.

Who the hell drinks tea right after pouring the hot water?

Oh yes, I do.

"Tamara,"

I elevated my posture, glancing up at my mother in response.

"Your father wants to speak with you, he's in the living room."

My brows raised as I gaped at my mother in alarm. "What is it about?"

If my father ever wants to have a conversation with me which he doesn't, it's always to nag about how much of a disgrace I am.

"Find out yourself." Mom answered casually, grabbing an apple from the fridge and leaving the kitchen.

I hesitantly strolled my way out of the kitchen and the living room.

I noticed my father sitting on one of the largest settee, a newspaper held in his hands as he scrutinized it.

I sat on the adjacent armchair, my legs tempting fold on the cushion but I controlled, unless I wanted to increase my father's lecture to another half an hour.

I cleared my throat, catching my father's attention. He glanced at me through his glasses, not a single muscle moving.

Averting his gaze back to the newspaper, I watched him as he finally spoke.

"Pack your bags."

What?

I gawked at Dad in confusion while my heart beat raced.

"Huh?"

Is he trying to kick me out of the house? Is it because he is still upset about the issue with Ethan?

Why the hell is he asking me to pack my fu-

Dad folded the newspaper, resting it on his lap, stopping my mind from the fuzzy theories playing inside my head. "I spoke to Shane. He insisted on postponing the wedding."