"Beautiful things grow to a certain height and then they fail and fade off..." - F. Scott Fitzgerald
Since the conversation at Chris' house communication between him and Robyn was reduced to a minimum. Months went by––– five to be exact, and he was interacting with her less and less. Every aspect of their situation from physical to emotional was depleting. Robyn couldn't understand the shifts in his emotions, which made him harder to read. If there was anything she wanted it was consistency and Chris was proving to her he wasn't that. He knew his inconsistency was frustrating to her, but it was best that way. Although the other part of him couldn't allow her to think he wasn't interested so he'd send her a specific amount of roses that reflected how long he'd make himself scarce each time. Notes that indicated she was never far from his mind. Paintings to decorate her penthouse that represented what he couldn't say to her verbally. He was desperately trying to hold onto her, but desperately trying to keep her at arm's length.
Tonight they'd be reconnecting to attend the monthly family dinner that took place at his mother's house. He always dreaded having to step foot in the place that held bad memories. Be surrounded by the walls that would echo his cries if they could talk. Chris asked Robyn whether she could join him, and knowing he needed her, she obliged.
Entering the house, she immediately felt the tension in the air. Robyn could tell from his body language that he didn't want to be present. On the ride there, he was eerily silent, and aloof. Not once did he acknowledge her except with his hand caressing her arm, otherwise, his mind seemed to be elsewhere. She could tell he was on edge, so she gave him his space while making conversation with Pat.
"Robyn, so glad you could join us this evening," Lucas' mother smiled warmly, and opened her arms for a hug. Despite the ill words she spoke, she was Lucas' mother, and as he did, she had to show respect. Though she was hesitant, Robyn returned the gesture kindly. "Chris didn't say anything so this is a pleasant surprise Always nice to see you, Patrick."
Robyn and Chris walked arm in arm––– his clear dismissal at his mother's attempt at an embrace, but he did acknowledge her. He never experienced her affection before, so he didn't understand why she thought he would be comfortable now. It was true, he always wished she loved him, but he didn't want it when it wasn't authentic. She always liked putting on a show. Acted like she was this loving mother when she's forsaken him. She never loved him, never cared enough for reasons unknown. Once she learned of his blindness and mental wellness her harsh treatment worsened. For that, he kept his distance and made peace with the fact she could never be the mother he needed and wanted.
Everyone was seated at the dinner table––– his cousins Keeis, Jamal, Aaron, and Austin on the left side. Chris, Robyn, and Patrick seated on the right with Christina sitting at the head. The tension was starting to make Robyn uncomfortable. It was so thick—– clogging her air space, causing her shift at certain moments. She watched everyone at the table and all of their attention was directed towards Chris. He was quieter than usual, but once the alcohol was set on the table, everything changed.
"So what's up cousin? I'm surprised you finally brought somebody home after–––"
Pat glared at him. "Watch it, Keeis."
He held his hands up. "I mean no harm. So, how you meet this sexy lady? Was it a blind date?" Keeis questioned laughingly, while his other cousins shifted in their seats uncomfortably. Chris remained silent drinking his Tequila. "Still the silent type, huh, Chris? It'd be good to know if you ain't add being mute on your list of disabilities."
"Keep fucking with me you'll be on the disabled list right with me."
"Christopher, that's enough!" He grunted and took the rest of his drink to the head.
