Broken Promises

4 | noah

I don't know how much time has passed by the time I finally go back into the house. I'd stood outside staring into the darkness for what felt like forever.

Entering the kitchen, I find my father sitting at the table. Caroline is nowhere in sight, and the house is relatively silent. I assume she must have gone to bed.

Dad notices as I enter the room, glancing up at me with a wide smile. "Hey, son," he says, as if this is a normal interaction. Father and son, reunited after a day apart.

Try four years.

"Can we talk for a minute?" Dad asks, words filling the silence around us.

I shrug. "Sounds like you already are."

Dad hesitates for just a moment, as if realizing for the first time today that pretending like the past four years didn't happen isn't going to fix things between us.

"I wanted to talk to you about your new school," Dad continues. "You're a senior, so the transition might be harder to get used to, but I'm sure you can handle it. You'll be—"

"I'm sorry," I interrupt. I cross my arms over my chest, rage coursing through my veins. Now that Mom is gone, I don't have to act like I'm okay with all of this. "I can't do this with you," I go on, shaking my head. "You see, that's not how things are going to work. I'm not moving in with you, Dad, because I want to. I'm being forced. This is my punishment. So don't bother trying to build a relationship with me, because I don't want one."

Dad stares at me from across the table for a long moment, digesting my words. A small twinge of regret passes through me at the hurt I see flashing through my father's eyes. However, it's not enough to make me feel guilty for what I've said.

"Noah, I understand we have some things to work through, but I am your father, and I—"

"That's where you're wrong," I cut in. "You're not my father. You don't get to disappear from my life for four years and assume that title. A father cares for their kid. A father is part of their child's life. You didn't do either. You are not my father."

"Noah—" Dad starts, though I don't let him go any further.

"We're gonna get one thing straight." Glaring at my father, I feel angry and spiteful and something deeper . . . a sadness I can't quite explain. "I'm not here for you or to form a relationship with you. I want nothing to do with you. So you might as well get that through your head now, because it's all I have to say to you."

I don't linger to see how my father will deal with my outburst. I merely turn and head for the stairs, having nothing left to say. I make my way up to my new room in my house that will never be my home, which is full of strangers.

I fall into bed a few moments later, unable to find sleep when my head hits the pillow. Reaching for my phone, I delete the numbers that belong to the friends I never told goodbye.

They're as dead to me now as my father has always been, anyway.

____

a/n: my sleep schedule is fucked.