Winter [Completed]

SIX

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December 15th
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"I never knew how strong I was until I had to forgive someone who wasn't sorry, and accept an apology I never received."

—Unknown

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Imani POV

It's been an unspoken ritual since school started that I have breakfast with my Dad and Nancy every Sunday.

It started off as a way for me to break the news to my dad that I was in a relationship, but now it's become sort of routine. Our thing if you could call it that.

Dad and Nancy only live 30 minutes away from campus, so it's pretty convenient to visit, but I mostly come to see Nancy. Once I got to know her a little more, I could actually see why my dad married her. She's not half bad.

I grab the syrup bottle and three plates as Nancy grabs the plate of pancakes.

"Ready?" She asks with a smile.

I nod, smiling when she holds the door open for me.

When we walk into the dining area, my dad puts down his newspaper and smiles. His curly brown hair is short and neat, and the double breasted suit that he wears tells me that this will be a short meal. When he dresses up, I know that he's going to church.

My father was a pastor—a really good one. He retired last year due to health issues, but sometimes he's asked to give a sermon when the new pastor at his church is away or sick.

I smiled, placing the plates and syrup on the table before taking a seat across from him. "Good morning, Dad."

"Morning, Sweet Pea." He smiles, wrapping an arm around his wife as she takes a seat beside him.

"Church today?" I ask, setting my phone on the table as I reached to grab the their hands.

"You know it," Dad winks, before closing his eyes and leading us in prayer.

It wasn't always like this. It may not seem like it, buy my dad and I haven't been on the best of terms since the incident. The First Sunday—that's what I call it— was less cheerful, and filled with far less civility.

Thinking back on it still makes my eyes moisten to this day.

"Another boyfriend? So soon?" My father grunts in disapproval before taking a sip of his orange juice.

He was always a big fan of Will.

I avert my gaze and nod. "Yes. His name is Ethan. He's a great guy. You'd love him. He treats me well, and he always puts me first, and he's super nice and considerate, and he's funny and sweet and—" My voice catches in my throat when I see the look on his face.

"He sounds lovely." Nancy comments, flashing me a reassuring smile. "Right James?" She nudges her husband softly.

My father eyes me skeptically.

Out of habit, I shrink down in my chair a bit.

"Ethan." He says, more of a question than a statement. "What kind of Black man is named Ethan?"

I gulp. Here we go.

"Um..." I mumble quietly as I fidget with a hangnail on my thumb. "He's not Black." I say, and in that instant the world goes silent.