The President's Son

||31||Confrontations

A/N: Long chapter incoming...
Sorry for making you all wait so long.
Thank you if you've stayed this far, dear readers. I swear, see and appreciate each and everyone of you!
Remember to leave your comments I love laughing to them!
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It wasn't easy getting everyone down here, oh no. It was bloody hell.

Over the last months, so much tensions has built up between the Manors and it's been stretching our affection for one another.

There's dad, he's fucking pissed.

There's Micheal, as usual, shutting the world out of his life, though that's normal for him I guess. We still haven't sorted out our sibling issues.

There's Liam, running companies, arranging an arranged marriage -sorry, his arranged marriage- and also trying to be the brother I can lean on. Fortunately for him, he has an engagement party tonight after this fiasco.

Then there's our mum, Amber Chloette. At this point, everything just feels weird.

Liam cleared his schedule to be here, Micheal got out of whatever it is that he was doing to be here, dad...let me not even go there.

Mum sits at the end of the dining table, nothing but a simple expression plastered accross her face. Dad sits at the other end with his face resting between his palms. Micheal keeps checking his phone and Liam sits accross from me with his arms crossed.

It's been like this for exactly twenty minutes and twenty-two seconds.

I start to tap my fingers against the glass table and Liam shoots me a death glare. Dad raises his head and looks me in the eye while mother and Micheal do nothing.

I start to see he really is her son.

"Were you praying?" I ask dad.

"Madeline." Liam calls my middle name and I sense the seriousness in his voice.

"She better hope I was praying." Dad chuckles and I look at mum who still hasn't said a thing.

Out of nowhere, our dad looks his wife in the eye across the table and a single word which we've all been waiting for leaves his mouth. "Why?"

She looks at him for a second then picks at her nails before venturing to answer him.

"I-

"I love you, Am." Father says, his voice breaking in the process and my heart dares to shatter. He fondly calls our mother Am- short for Amber. He says it was the first nickname he ever gave her and here he is now, using it for probably the last time.

"Why?" He asks again. "What was the first thing you told me after she came home three years ago, Amber?" Dad asked, making us curious.

Three years ago. That was when I-

"Look at me, Amber!" Dad lashes out and Liam stands up to calm him down, telling him to watch his tone with our mother.

This is one of the reasons why I love my brother so much, his respect for women can never outweigh his anger at any given time.

"You said we'd take him down." Dad wipes his hand across his face and I see the agony in her eyes.