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I shake my head as he devours it in three bites, sucking his fingers after and looking like he might go in for a second slice. I take the knife out of his hand and dump it in the sink. I pick the container up and close it, putting it on top of the kitchen cabinets where he can’t reach unless he climbs a chair.
“Eat as many carrots as you want. Have an apple, or a pear.”
“Gee, thanks, Dad,” Carter grumbles, going to the fridge and grabbing a carrot.
“You seriously need to work on your impulse control,” I mutter, ignoring the dumb joke.
“I’ll work on that, when you stop being so boring.”
So, never, as far as he’s concerned.
He starts crunching loudly. Sighing between bites.
I ignore him as I get things ready.
We both skipped breakfast and lunch, and I’m happy to wait for the meal I had planned out in advance to be ready before I eat.
“It’s so dark in here,” Carter grumbles.
“So go eat your snack in the living room,” I suggest, hoping he takes the hint. “That’s where the TV is. I’m pretty sure it’s much more fascinating than watching me cook.”
He snorts. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be back when I run out of carrot.”
I listen to him leave, relaxing once he’s out of the room.
I need some time to think while our mind-reading Omega isn’t lingering around, eavesdropping on everything that’s going on inside my head.
My body goes on automatic pilot with the food prep while I try to figure out what to do about Sara.
Knowing she’s out there makes my fingers tighten on the peeler.
She’s been trying to speak to me about this shit for years. Literally, for fuckingyears.
Somehow, I doubt she’ll just leave now that I know.
My options are fairly limited.
One, I avoid her until she gives up. Considering how determined she is, that could take more than a few years, and there’s no guarantee she’ll ever actually give up. I can see her waiting for me on the other side of the veil if I do that.
Two, I force her to cross over permanently. That’s kind of a dick move. She clearly isn’t ready to move on. As much as I want to forget what she told me, I don’t think I’d be okay with that option in the long run.
Three, I talk to her. Find out what she actually expects to gain from what she told me. That’s the option that brings my anger back to the surface.
I’m not ready to talk to her, clearly. Avoidance isn’t a permanent solution, but right now it’s all I have. I let out an irritable sigh as the peeler scratches my skin. A bead of blood bubbles up and I put the potato down to rinse my hand and the peeler in the sink.
I’m getting pissed off just thinking about Sara. I need to shelf the whole situation, at least until Christmas has passed. Maybe after, I’ll have calmed down enough to talk to her.
I turn the tap back off and go back to peeling potatoes.
Forget about her. Forget about all of it.
I pause everything, taking a few seconds to just breathe.
Rachel was gone for days. She just got back. I missed her.
I want tonight to be special, and it will be.
I’ll make sure of it.
