KINDERGARTEN [L.S]

𝑺𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏

SEVEN

"We need to talk."

"I'm about to head to work, can't it be other time?"

"No, Brianna. Now. Please, it's important." - I insisted, trying to stop her from walking out of the house.

"You got tired of playing Dad and you want to give up? Is that it?"

"What? No. C'mon, it's important, and it involves Freddie."

"Fine." - She sighed. - "You have five minutes until my cab is here."

"Okay, look, Harry asked me to go to the daycare yesterday. Something Freddie draw got him worried."

"Worried?"

I took the drawing out of my bag and showed it to her.

"He said Freddie told him it was anger and blood. And that this could be because of our argument the other day."

"What?"

"Freddie did this drawing yesterday at school. Don't you think is a bit different from what he always do? Because I believe we need to talk about this. It's... Worrying."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"He draw this. It's a way of expressing himself or his fears and traumas. Harry believes it could have been triggered by us."

"By our argument?" - She snorted.

"Yes. We should have been more careful. I know we don't get along very well nowadays. But we should try and be more... Calm around each other. For his sake."

"You aren't making any sense." - She laughed.

"See? Can't we just have a civilized conversation?" - I sighed. - "I'm really trying here."

"Fine. What about this drawing then? We stop arguing in front of him? That's it?"

"To start somewhere, yes. But also, Harry suggests we should get Freddie a therapist." - I said and Brianna bursted into laughter.

"Harry believes, Harry suggests, Harry says, Harry this, Harry that. Harry isn't his father. Alright? Look at him." - She pointed at Freddie. - "He's completely fine! I'm not going to get a therapist for him."

"Hey! Don't yell. We're talking. What did we just agreed to? No arguing in front of him." - I told her, lowering my voice. - "I'm just telling you what his teacher, who I remind you is a professional and knows about this things, told me Freddie could be bottling up his feelings and that he needs therapy to help him cope. With us, with our separation. He's not telling us how he feels, does he ever talk about us not living together? About our constant fighting?"

"I don't know. Maybe he doesn't care. I'm not sending him to a shrink."

"God, you're so damn stubborn." - I sighed.

"Well, that would be it. My cab is here." - She said, going to where Freddie was and giving him a hug and a kiss. - "Bye, baby, see you after school."

Freddie shrugged and continued sipping on his glass of milk, not even hugging his mother back.

He heard it all.

🌈

It was nearly eight pm on that Tuesday night.
Niall and I were sharing a beer while lying on either side of the couch. Both of us too tired to even move to our bedrooms yet.

When my phone rang, we both groaned.

I had had a really long day at work, and Niall, well he had skipped his shift at the bar because he was still crying over his heartbreak.
Both of us looked miserable really.