The Prodigal

Chapter Twenty

Before I can ask anymore questions, the delivery man arrives with our Chinese food. Even though I'm the one who ordered it, Luke pays for our dinner.

"You didn't have to do that," I say as I open a carton of steaming food. "I have a bit of money." $436, to be exact.

"I wouldn't make you pay for dinner. Especially when you're at my house," Luke insists.

"Alright," I say, because I can't think of anything else. "Well thanks."

"You're welcome."

We eat in silence and I'm wondering if he's okay. He seems quiet. No, he is quiet. It's probably because of everything he's just told me.

When I can't stand it any longer, I blurt out: "Are you okay?!"

He looks taken aback by my tone. Did I really say it that loud? I didn't mean to.

"Sorry," I say quietly. "You just...seem kind of upset."

"It's not your fault."

Great. I hate when people say that.

"I'm just thinking about my family, is all," he finishes.

"Right. Sorry for bringing that up."

"It's okay. You had a right to know, considering you're staying in their house."

That's when I decide to tell him about the diary. Does he know about it? Maybe if he does, he can help me figure it out. And I won't have to feel so guilty anymore.

"So...while I was exploring earlier, I found something in your parents' room."

"What was it?" he asks.

"A diary. Your mother's, I think." Actually, I know it was hers, but I'll pretend I don't.

"Oh, really? I didn't know she kept a diary."

So he doesn't know about it! Hm. That's strange.

"I don't think anyone did, to be honest," I say. "She wrote in it that she only did it in her spare time."

"Wait. You read it?"

I gulp. "Y-yes."

"Wow," Luke comments, sounding impressed. "I've gotta say, you've got guts to admit to that."

"Oh." I breathe a sigh of relief. So he's not mad. Good.

"When do you think she wrote it?"

"When you were 18. So probably about two years ago."

"Right before she died..." he says wistfully.

"Yup. She talked about you sometimes," I say, so he won't have that sad look on his face anymore.

"Really? What did she say?"

"Just that she loves you, and how amazing you are. Stuff like that."

He chuckles. "Well, I don't know about that..."

"It's true! And you are kind of amazing...letting me stay at your house and all." My heart is beating out of my chest and I feel as if I can't breathe. What's happening to me?!

"Thanks," he says, blushing. "You're pretty amazing too."

I want to scoff at him, but instead I smile. "I'm definitely not amazing. But I'm glad you think so."