I couldn't visit Dad's the following day.
He seemed annoyed and confused and vexed. He kept trying to contact me, but it seemed weird to go there after knowing what he had done, to Mom...and to me.
However, after 15 missed calls, it stopped and I left a sigh of relief.
"Thank goodness"
I took my backpack and decided to leave when Mom knocked on the door
"Yes, Mom!"
We were okay. Though the days after led to more silences, I gathered her into most of my stuff like before. I started going to the kitchen and helping her. Cleaning became my usual duty. I started giving her some of the love I always did. In some way, she deserved it more than me.
"Dad's calling you", she poked her head in and raised her brows, "Don't tell me your not going"
I gave her a half smile.
She walked inside
