The Boy Next Door || Harry Styles

chapter eight.

UGH I KNOW, WHY DONT I UPDATE MORE?! Okay, sorry, sorry. I hope you like this chapter! It's not as great as I expected it to be, but oh well, I tried! (:

There is a video on the side! Go check it out! (: 

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3 weeks later...

"Dad," I asked at the dinner table.  It had been awhile since we sat down and had a real dinner.

"Yes, Melanie?" He said looking up from his plate of pasta.

"Where do you babies come from?" I tried to say with a serious face.  It didn't help when he cracked a smile and started laughing.

"W-what?" He breathed out.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." Playing with my food, I stabbed the pasta with my fork and dragged it across the half-eaten meal.

"I thought you were serious for a second." He laughed again and I smiled.

"Dad, say fort." In a way, I was actually stalling with what I really wanted to ask him.

"Fort." He responded rather quickly.

"Now say it three times."

"Fort, fort, fort." He chuckled again.

"Spell it twice." I continued.  I put my fork down and crossed my arms on the table.

"F-O-R-T, F-O-R-T." He smiled at me as if he had accomplished something very hard.

"Say it again." I raised my eyebrows and smiled back.

"Fort."

"What do you eat soup with?" I bit my lip and hoped he didn't get the joke.

"A forKKKK! HA HA HA." He laughed at me while banging his fists on the table. After realizing his answer was wrong, I snorted and laughed at him.

"Dad, no. You eat soup with a spoon!" I laughed some more and found that he was chuckling too.

"That's funny. That's funny." He repeated.

"Dad?" I asked again after a long silence. He tittered a bit before raising his eyebrows at me. 

"Yes, Melanie?" he laughed as if I were going say another dumb joke. But this time, I was serious. 

"I miss mum." It was blunt and suddenly it was out in the universe. I couldn't change what I said; it just came out.

"I miss mum." I repeated just to make sure I wasn't fooling myself. I truly did miss my mum and I didn't exactly know where she had run off. 

Looking up, I realized that my dad's hands were pressed against his temples and his face was losing color. I repeated,

"I miss mum." 
He didn't say a word when he slid his chair back and stood up. Completely ignoring me, he walked past my side of the table and to the dining room entrance that led to the rest of the house. Dumbfounded, I watched him walk away from his problems. 

"I miss her too." He whispered before leaving me. 

It had been awhile since I had a real dinner with my dad and I ended up ruining it for the both of us. And it had been while since we talked about my mother, his wife. He never talked about her, as if he were ashamed of her. Most of the time when I brought up the subject he would shrug and walk away just like he did moments ago. I was always confused. But now, I was angry. He never told me anything and I never knew anything. Shouldn't I have to right to know what happened to my mother? You know after 15 years with living with my dad, I would expect to trust him, but now I just think he's hiding something from me. 

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