Chapter 3

After packing the car, I double-checked my apartment for anything I had forgotten. Mom has been blowing up my phone every ten minutes to see when I’d be there, and I tell her each time that it’s a five-hour drive and that I haven’t left yet. I was about to get in the car when the phone rang again. Ignoring it, I texted her to tell her I was about to leave. Cranking up the music as I tried to calm my nerves, I just prayed that I don’t see Chris any time soon. 

I arrived home almost two hours late due to traffic and a detour. I pulled up in the driveway, and Mom came out and hugged me, “Oh, my baby, I’ve missed you!” I smiled and hugged her, 

“I’ve missed you too, Mom,” I said. We got my bags out of the car after she finally released me. Mom escorted me inside and brought me to my old bedroom; there was fresh bedding, towels, and a fluffy robe. And as a bonus, mom situated my desk for me. 

“I remember when you were younger, you’d have so many colors of pens, so I bought a new pack for you.” She explained; I smiled, 

“You didn’t have to do that,” I told her, but she brushed it off, 

“I wanted to.” She said excitedly, “Somewhat of a reason to get you to move back home, but mostly because you said that you’d have to work while you’re here, and I know how your editing process is.” I shook my head; there’s no way she actually knows how I edit, is there? She saw that I was skeptical about whether or not she did, so she decided to prove it. “You start by printing a copy of whatever you’re editing for your editing process. Use red for grammar and colored highlighters to mark when a character is speaking. Different colors for the different characters. And if it’s a place, you’ll underline them to make sure you reread that part to make sure it makes sense to you.” My jaw nearly hit the floor; was I really that easy to figure out? 

“You win,” I stated; she beamed joyfully before capturing me in another rib-crushing hug.

“Good,” She said, “and as my prize, I want you to visit me more!” I smiled and hugged her back just as tight, 

“We’ll see, Mom.” When she let me go, she began helping me put things away. I pulled out my running clothes and changed, “I’ll be back later, Mom. I’m going to go for a run before dinner.” 

“Okay, be safe.” She told me as I headed out. I decided to go to my favorite place to run; Evergreen Park.

After a brief warm-up session by walking to the park, I plugged in my air pods and turned on some music. Giving myself a quick stretch, I bolted. Running was always my favorite type of exercise. While in school, my dad wanted me to join the track team and said it would look better on college applications than the writing club. I disagreed. For as long as I can remember, all I’ve wanted to do is write; I’ve never wanted to do anything else. 

Thinking about everything made me run faster. When my parents got divorced, Dad ran; we hadn’t seen him in almost ten years nor heard from him. I was worried, and deep down, I think mom was too. I stopped running when I got to the bridge; looking over the water in winter was one of my favorites. It honestly looked like the water was dancing with the winter air. When I look at this, I picture a great romance, and though it is cold, I feel warmth surrounding me. But then, “Sophia?” I heard a voice behind me; I felt my body stiffen. I knew who it was. I turned around to see Chris. He was older, and bits of gray protruded from his hair; he was handsome.

“Chris…” I muttered under my breath. Looking at him, I was reminded of everything that had happened. The anger and the sadness all came flooding back to me from all those years ago. Without another thought, I ran. Running as far as my legs could carry me until I finally reached the house. 

I ran into the house and straight to my room, shutting the door tightly behind me. I felt my heart race like it would pound out of my chest if I didn’t calm myself. Seeing him, I couldn’t help but feel anger and pain, but I missed him, the strangest feeling of all. I’ve missed him these last six years. He wasn’t just someone I wanted to be with; he was my best friend. I loved him, and I love him still, but I need to push past that. I need to move on. 

Once I calmed down, I went to my bathroom and took a shower before getting dressed in comfortable clothes for dinner. I walked into the kitchen to see my mother cooking dinner as I took a seat at the bar, “Hey,” she said, “how was your run?” I smiled, deciding not to tell her about my brief encounter,

“Yeah, it was nice.” I told her, “I’ve forgotten how much I love running outdoors compared to my treadmill back home.” Mom chuckled a bit before placing a plate of grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans in front of me. 

“I hope you’ve missed my cooking more.” I chuckled and picked up my fork as I began to dig in. Moaning in satisfaction by the delectable food,

“Yes!” I said excitedly. Mom laughed as she poured us a glass of wine before joining me at the bar. “Thank you,” I said, sipping the wine. 

After dinner, I helped mom with the dishes before heading to get my computer to work. Mom came over and patted my shoulder, “I have something to show you.” She told me as she set a shoe box beside me; I stared at it curiously as she sat beside me. 

“What is this?” I asked; Mom opened it to reveal letters addressed to us. 

“These are letters from your father.” I stared at them for a moment, then pushed them away, 

“Why do you have these?” I asked her, “They should have been burned the second you got them out of the mailbox.” Mom began explaining, 

“Your father has been getting help, as his letters say.” I rolled my eyes, “He wants to meet us, to make amends. It’s a part of his healing.” 

“He’s said the same thing before, Mom.” I told her, “And each time, he ends up worse off than he was.” 

“Sophia, I believe this time he is getting better.” I got up and gathered my computer,

“He hasn’t changed, Mom; no man will ever change!” I shouted, storming off to my room. I locked the door behind me. The rage I have for my father is valid; he has messed up so many times that I have lost faith in him, and it would take a lot more than just making amends to earn my forgiveness or my trust. I began working on my book because there was one thing I told myself I would never do; go to bed angry. 

Nearly an hour after midnight, I was almost done with an edit for chapter 11 of my book. I realized that was where the ending wasn’t making sense, but I continued to look over the rest of my chapters to be safe. It was about 1:30 AM when I emailed the third draft to Jesse and headed off to bed. 

I woke up the following day and went to the kitchen for breakfast. Mom was cooking when I walked in, “Good morning, Snowflake.” Mom said; I smiled, 

“Morning, Mom.” She placed a glass of juice in front of me, 

“How did you sleep?” Mom asked; I shrugged,

“Alright, I suppose,” I replied, taking the juice and sitting it on the table as I went around to fix a plate; only, Mom had it prepared for me already. I grabbed the plate and sat at the table, 

“What are your plans for the day?” Mom asked; once again, I shrugged,

“I know I need to get some work done. Maybe go for a run,” I replied; she smiled and sat beside me. 

“What about what we discussed last night?” Mom asked; I ignored her, “Sophia, please,” she begged, “at least consider seeing him. I’ll let you have that time together, just the two of you.” I looked over at her, her eyes pleading for me to agree, “Consider it my Christmas present.” Rolling my eyes, I finally decided to oblige her,

“Fine,” I said, “I’ll visit with him, but it’ll be on my terms.” Mom smiled at me,

“Great!” Mom said ecstatically, “Now, let’s eat.” I smiled and began eating. 

After breakfast, I helped Mom clean up before heading back to my room to get ready for the day, then got to work.